Chapter 8: The Sun

Inside the classroom.

Even after more than an hour had passed, Chu Zhu was still lost in thought—how could it be Chinese?

If it were truly a dream, then Chinese would be perfectly normal. Even if the language shifted from Chinese to English, then to some unknown tongue as he communicated with others in the dream, that would be expected! After all, it was all a product of imagination.

But if it wasn’t a dream… what would that mean?

Chu Zhu’s mind raced.

Ancient civilizations, ancient ruins, ancient relics unearthed from those ruins—mobile phones, combination locks, and a series of electronic devices.

Ancient ruins that strongly resembled nuclear power plants or some other nuclear-related facility… and the electronic voice prompts from those ruins were in Chinese, a language never before used in this dream world?!

So…

If it wasn’t a dream, that would mean… the ancient civilization was one that used Chinese? A civilization capable of constructing nuclear facilities and using the Chinese language… a civilization!

Chills ran down his spine.

“Zhuzi, what’s going on?” Lin Xia patted Chu Zhu on the shoulder, startling him awake. He sat down beside Chu Zhu without hesitation, pulling out a steamed bun from his pocket and taking a few bites. “You look lost in thought.”

Lin Xia was Chu Zhu’s closest friend, their bond forged over years of shared experiences. They attended the same kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, and high school, eventually enrolling in the same university, placed in the same class, and even assigned to the same dormitory.

Though they weren’t in the same class during high school due to academic demands and saw each other less frequently, their relationship remained strong.

If either of them had been a girl, they could have been called childhood sweethearts.

“I suddenly realized that my dream might actually be real,” Chu Zhu confessed without hesitation. Or rather, he had shouted about his dream countless times since childhood—his father, mother, grandparents, even his teachers from elementary to high school—all knew about it!

Now, even if he wanted to hide it, it was too late.

During his more rebellious years, he even thought this was his unique ‘chosen one’ ability, only to be repeatedly beaten down by reality.

Back then, the few who believed his dreams were real were his peers—though now, as adults, whether they still believe or not was unknown.

At this point, Lin Xia was the closest person to him.

“…Again with this? Fine, fine, I get it! When your golden ability awakens and you become invincible, defeating all enemies from the heavens, I’ll just live by flattering you! And when you become emperor, make me your close attendant—oh, and no castration, plus full benefits!” Lin Xia said seriously, clasping his hands in mock respect.

“I’ll be the first one below, raising my hands high, hopping around, pretending to cry… Don’t worry, I’ve been watching videos on Cantonese cuisine lately, studying hard! I guarantee you’ll get the authentic Peninsula Sun private server experience.”

“Get lost,” Chu Zhu rolled his eyes and sighed. “But this time, it’s real! I feel like I’m starting to lose the ability to distinguish between dreams and reality.”

Lin Xia’s expression finally shifted; he abandoned his usual carefree demeanor, pursed his lips, and then…

Pulled out his phone.

“My roommate has a mental illness, and it’s getting worse. What should I do?”

Chu Zhu blinked.

At least have some shame! Chu Zhu laughed in disbelief. He couldn’t bear being unfairly labeled as mentally ill without inheriting any of the benefits of such a diagnosis.

“But seriously!” Lin Xia didn’t actually search anything, casually slipping the phone back into his pocket, his face showing envy. “I’ve always envied you… compared to mental illness, this feels more like a superpower!”

“In dreams, I can do whatever I want! I can be a citizen of the motherland! I can go to amusement parks… Oh my, I’ve wanted to say this since I was a kid—we’re secretly learning, and once you finish studying, you get to dream about going to amusement parks, visiting attractions, having fun, while we just waste time actually sleeping… Damn it, what beasts!”

Lin Xia’s eyes reddened as he spoke.

“...But if things really get serious!” Lin Xia pondered, then joked, “How about we ask for leave now and go to the school clinic?”

“You just want to skip class, you coward,” Chu Zhu said, half laughing, half exasperated.

“What are you talking about, adopted son?” Lin Xia scoffed. “You’re not the sun yet, and you’re already out of breath calling me fat?”

They were teasing each other, of course. But Lin Xia wasn’t entirely joking. He concluded, “I personally don’t think it’s a bad thing, since I haven’t noticed your emotions becoming uncontrollably volatile. But if you feel something’s wrong, you can get checked out. I can go with you. After class, we can find the counselor?”

Chu Zhu smiled and declined.

As the bell rang signaling the start of class, they let the matter drop.

In truth, Chu Zhu wasn’t opposed to going to the hospital, nor did he mind his condition being exposed—what difference would it make?

Could society still dissect him now?

Even if it came to that, it wouldn’t be like in the movies where they slice you into pieces!

Or rather, convincing others that he lived as realistically in his dreams as in real life would be absurdly difficult! Except for Lin Xia, who had known him since childhood, who else would believe it?

But Chu Zhu had already seen through it.

Even if he went to the hospital, the outcome would be perfunctory… nothing but a waste of money! Doctors simply wouldn’t find anything wrong. He had been through too much since childhood.

Doctors wouldn’t believe his vivid descriptions—they’d just assume it was hallucinations caused by his condition! And since everything else seemed normal, they wouldn’t even prescribe medication!

The professor was a little late arriving to class, but few students seemed to mind. In fact, if the teacher hadn’t come at all, many students might have been happier.

“Class! Society is advancing!” Professor Chen didn’t take a serious tone for the lesson. After less than ten minutes of formal teaching, he smoothly shifted topics, pulling out his phone and waving it. “Everyone should have downloaded the latest AI version on your phones, right?”

“Yes, yes!”

“I have it on mine.”

“I have five versions of AI!!”

Many students raised their hands, their faces bright with excitement and joy. Professor Chen was one of the more gentle instructors, valuing student interaction greatly. The class atmosphere was never too serious.

“Technology is advancing incredibly fast,” Professor Chen mused. “Although I teach programming languages and not AI directly, it’s related! I’ve tried it myself and feel like I might be replaced soon… maybe the entire education system will have to be reformed because of it before long.”