Chapter 70

Chapter 70

A big shot like Lin Yuze wouldn’t summon Xiyu over just to give him a toy for no reason.

A specially prepared gift must have deeper meaning.

So that evening, Luo Xi began studying the new computer.

The sound of running water in the bathroom drowned out all other noise. Xiyu sat on the edge of the bathtub, eagerly watching.

In the end, Luo Xi shook his head.

Xiyu was disappointed.

But then Luo Xi smiled and mouthed slowly, “Powerful hardware—capable of many functions. And it has vulnerabilities.”

Xiyu blinked.

Luo Xi handed him the screen and lightly tapped the network button. The computer instantly switched to offline mode.

Xiyu was shocked. Maybe to ordinary humans, lack of internet is just an inconvenience, but in the Cloud Platform, the internet is the main tool used to monitor streamers’ thoughts and actions. If this machine never connects to the internet, no one would know what they’re doing with it. And with Luo Xi’s programming skills, this… this was clearly a powerful weapon!

Luo Xi clearly thought the same. He carefully packed the tablet into a small box and tucked it into his pocket without mercy. “Confiscated.”

Xiyu smiled faintly.

The hot water had been running for a while, and the small room was filled with steam.

Seeing the unguarded softness on Xiyu’s face, Luo Xi suddenly had a mischievous thought and gave him a hard shove!

Xiyu was startled and instinctively grabbed his arm!

The force of it sent both of them—still in pajamas—half-soaked. Neither gained the upper hand.

Xiyu was both angry and amused, glaring at Luo Xi with a touch of irritation.

Hot water slowly trickled down their chins.

Luo Xi smiled.

Xiyu didn’t let go. In fact, he leaned in, wrapped his arms around Luo Xi’s neck, squinted through the water, and pressed close to his face, saying, “Everything’s going to be okay.”That sentence held many meanings, but the hope in it was incredibly sincere.

Luo Xi couldn’t help but hold Xiyu as they sat back down. In Xiyu’s palm, he silently wrote: “Before everything else, we have to figure out a problem.”

Xiyu blinked in confusion.

Luo Xi wrote again: “Zhao.”

…Zhao Zhusheng.

Indeed, whether it was that person's deliberate approach or the unprovoked hostility, it all felt far too unnatural. Xiyu had originally planned to wait and let the other side slip up, which is why he hadn’t acted. He hadn’t expected that at the end of Rose Game, that guy would unexpectedly be eliminated—likely cutting off any further leads.

Xiyu looked seriously at Luo Xi, clearly asking—how do we investigate?

Luo Xi raised an eyebrow. “I’ll give it a try.”

On the day of the promotional shoot, the security department had brought in several staff from the Cyber headquarters to assist. They were mostly young people—photographers, makeup artists—buzzing with an enthusiasm that clashed starkly with Yuntai’s atmosphere, running around busy from morning till night.

Most androids were physically striking and already had established public personas in the audience’s eyes, so overall, the shoot went fairly smoothly.

Probably only Luo Xi’s photos, with his facial injuries, gave them a real headache in post-production.

After all the contestants in Area A had finished their shoots, Xu Tu was still reluctant to part with the makeup on her face. Holding a small mirror, she said, “So pretty… I’m not washing my face tonight.”

Bai Qi chimed in with flattery, “You look good no matter what.”

Xiyu sat nearby, shaking his head and chuckling. His silver hair had been styled into a look befitting a cold, aristocratic young noble. His strikingly beautiful face was fully revealed, and with a gorgeous Ragdoll cat perched on his shoulder, he was undeniably eye-catching.

While they were chatting, a makeup artist on break came over and said, “Hi Xiyu, could you give me an autograph?”

Xiyu looked slightly surprised. “An autograph?”

The makeup artist blinked. “My boyfriend’s been a huge fan of yours since two years ago. He got so excited when he found out I’d be coming here. I want to give him your autograph as a birthday gift.”

That reason was hard to refuse, and the company didn’t have any rules against it.

Xiyu accepted the pen she handed him and hesitated a moment before writing his name in the notebook. He couldn’t help but softly ask, “Do you have any photos of me from two years ago?”

People not usually based at Yuntai rarely followed strict rules. The makeup artist, like the nurse Tian Rui, was a bit impulsive. She pulled out her phone, tapped a few times, and projected a moving photo.

In the photo, Xiyu had long flowing hair, radiant and dazzling, his eyes full of arrogance. Yet that arrogance, paired with his stunning beauty, didn’t feel off-putting—instead, it became a jewel-like brilliance adorning him.…Such a powerful presence, and yet so unfamiliar.

Xiyu gradually furrowed his brows.

At that moment, the security staff, already aware of the disturbance, approached angrily and questioned, “What are you looking at?!”

Xiyu didn’t try to shift the blame and stood up immediately. “Sorry, it was my fault.”

The security personnel checked the photo and, seeing nothing that could cause trouble, finally gave a stern warning: “Reset means reset. Stop dwelling on the past. Smart people seize the opportunity in front of them.”

Xiyu smiled. “Yes.”

Xu Tu watched the person leave and clicked her tongue, eyeing Xiyu. “How did you go from queen-type bottom to how you are now?”

Bai Qi nodded beside her. “The key point is—you’re still a bottom. But who could resist once the boss shows up?”

“…,” Xiyu finally realized something was off. He looked around. “Luo Xi hasn’t finished his shoot yet?”

Xu Tu blinked. “He finished a while ago. Where is he?”

In fact, Luo Xi had taken the opportunity to slip out of the studio while the security staff were busy questioning Xiyu. He was now striding purposefully through the junior streamer residential area.

The stir caused by the end of the preliminaries had already faded here. Aside from a lucky few who advanced, most were still stuck in their bleak routines. Even the air felt cold and tense.

Ignoring the curious stares along the way, Luo Xi finally found Zhao Zhusheng in the reading room, lost in thought while holding a book. He immediately crooked a finger to signal him to come out.

Zhao Zhusheng frowned slightly but, after a few seconds, lowered his head and reluctantly complied, walking with clear hesitation.

Luo Xi had wandered these buildings for two years and knew exactly where to find blind spots in the surveillance system. He specifically chose a spot out of the camera’s view, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “How’ve the past couple of days been? Pretty hopeless, right?”

Cracks appeared on Zhao Zhusheng’s delicate face, but he still spoke stubbornly: “What’s there to be hopeless about? As long as I haven’t been reset, there’s still hope.”

Luo Xi let out a scoff. “You’re a brand-new streamer, no reset record, using a new type of gene. If you developed step by step, you’d probably be doing well. I’m not wrong, am I?”

Zhao Zhusheng shot back, “So what if you’re right?”

Luo Xi: “It’s just a shame someone used you to frame Xiyu, promised you a fast track to the top, gave you immense hope—and now that you’ve fallen from that high, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

As those words landed, the cracks on Zhao Zhusheng’s face deepened, and veins popped on his neck."You're already out of the game now—completely worthless. You might as well tell me who started it all." Luo Xi was blunt and efficient. "I’m sure you can tell I’m someone who follows through. If you come clean, I can at least guarantee your safety in Yuntai—at least until something happens to me. How about it?"

Though Zhao Zhusheng always wore a calm facade, at heart he was still a newcomer with no one to rely on. Now, facing the dark days of failure for the first time, all his previous pride and confidence had vanished. It was the easiest moment for him to waver.

Sure enough, after Luo Xi patiently waited, he finally opened his mouth: “Actually…”

“What are you two doing?!”

A sharp, scolding voice cut them off.

It was none other than Xia Zi, the deputy director of the security division.

She was a young woman, already a PhD from the Capital Military and Political University, and had only been assigned to Yuntai this year—most likely just to polish her résumé. She had always carried herself with arrogant superiority.

Luo Xi cursed inwardly, but could only sneer. “Oh, Deputy Xia—you’re back from your suspension?”

“Qualified contestants are to stay in their designated residential area. No wandering around! Luo Xi, don’t think you’re so special that you can ignore Yuntai’s rules!” Xia Zi barked. “You’ve left your living quarters without authorization more than once in the past few days.”

Luo Xi spread his hands. “The company told me to come out for a photoshoot. I got lost afterward—what could I do?”

Xia Zi laughed coldly. “You can find your way through a dungeon in the simulation, but you get lost in the company elevators?”

Luo Xi smiled deliberately. “Well, I did get lost. Surely that’s not a punishable offense?”

Xia Zi snapped, “Go back to your living area immediately!”

Despite being furious with her, Luo Xi had no choice but to comply—she was still his superior.

Once they were alone again, Zhao Zhusheng remained rooted in place, his face covered in cold sweat.

Xia Zi glanced at him. “What, that easy to sway?”

Zhao Zhusheng lowered his head. “We didn’t say anything.”

“The competition format has been released today,” Xia Zi said, arms crossed. “Although 192 streamers were selected as planned, the company won’t rule out accidents—natural or otherwise. So, there will be a vote for ten alternates next. Understand?”

At those words, a spark lit up in Zhao Zhusheng’s previously dull eyes.

“Prepare yourself,” Xia Zi ordered coldly before walking away in irritation, heels clacking on the floor.The table in the activity room was covered in playing cards. Bai Qi looked confident, while Xi Yu sat across from him, thoughtful. After a moment, he calmly admitted, “I lost.”

“You did really well to last this long. Almost no one in Yuntai can beat A-Qi,” Xu Tu said, resting her chin in her hand. “His mind is fast and he’s a total drama king.”

“Still can’t tell if that’s praise or an insult.” Bai Qi sighed. “Card games are about logic and reaction speed, sure—but even more so, it’s a psychological battle. You need to observe and think. And since the audience needs to understand what’s happening, the planners won’t make the rules too complicated. So don’t stress too much about the upcoming scenarios.”

Xi Yu nodded. “Thank you for teaching me.”

Xu Tu teased, “Why are you being so formal?”

“I know you all have an extraordinary level of trust with Luo Xi, but in the end, we’re still competitors if we’re pushed to the edge,” Xi Yu said seriously. “I don’t take your help for granted, so I have to thank you.”

“Oh, that.” Xu Tu smiled, dimples showing. “We made a deal with the boss—help each other when we have the strength, protect ourselves when we don’t. When the time comes, handle things calmly and rely on our own abilities. Don’t let the idea of ‘friendship’ become a burden that crushes us.”

Xi Yu nodded. “I understand. I’ll do the same.”

“So serious—what are you guys talking about?”

Luo Xi’s voice rang out from nearby.

He finally strolled back, holding a colorful little poster, which he tossed onto the table. “Look—Section Chief Qin just gave me this. Competition schedule.”

Naturally, the other three leaned in to read the brightly colored text.

[First Round of the Esports Tournament Begins May 1]

[192 streamers divided into 16 matches, with 6 winners from each match, advancing a total of 96 streamers]

[Gifts from viewers allowed during the advancement round]

[Those who fail to advance face reset—do your best]

[Meanwhile, Yuntai will launch a month-long online vote]

[Vote to select 10 non-advancing streamers as backup members]

[Streamers may promote themselves or others during upcoming livestreams]

No one paid much attention to the rest of the information, but they all frowned at the mention of the backup voting.Xu Tu blurted out, “This is bad—Mu Yuan may not be well-liked among the streamers and only hangs out with a bunch of shady friends, but he’s still managed to gather a large viewer following.”

Luo Xi cut straight to the point: “And esports tournaments definitely have betting markets overseas. A lot of people probably placed bets on Mu Yuan. Even if it’s just to recover their losses, they’ll go all out to vote him back in.”

Xi Yu’s gaze froze. “So Wu Zhi risked everything to eliminate him, and now he might be coming back?”

Bai Qi remained calm and optimistic as always: “He’ll only come back if one of the official players has an accident and can’t compete. I think we shouldn’t worry too much—let’s just focus on what’s in front of us.”

Luo Xi nodded, his long, strong fingers tapping rhythmically on the table—like he was seeing through some hidden scheme or forming a new plan of his own.

During their days in the new dorm, Xi Yu had been sharing a bed with Luo Xi.

Although there hadn’t been anything too improper between them, falling asleep in each other’s arms was still a blissful comfort.

One early morning, just before dawn, Xi Yu felt the space beside him grow empty. He opened his eyes and asked softly, “…What time is it?”

“Sleep a bit more, then go train as usual.” Luo Xi was already at the edge of the bed, quickly changing into his streamer uniform. He leaned down to kiss Xi Yu’s forehead. “I’m heading back to the lab for a bit. There’s something I need to confirm.”

Xi Yu’s understanding of Luo Xi was limited to their brief time together and a few in-game interactions, but he could tell that this man was never content with the status quo. He clearly had a complex plan brewing in his heart. So Xi Yu simply gave a soft acknowledgment and didn’t ask further, lest they be overheard and caught by the surveillance cameras.

The sound of running water from the bathroom passed, and the door opened and closed again.

Xi Yu turned over under the covers, hugging the curious little Qi who was watching nearby.

Qi immediately started purring and nuzzling against him, innocent and carefree.

Xi Yu murmured, “Only five days left until we’re thrown into another game… You’d better stay safe…”

Qi seemed to respond: “Meow…”

Xi Yu furrowed his brows and gave a wry smile, wondering whether he could ever truly give the little cat a real home—one that would have to be outside of Yuntai, surely.

But what kind of world existed outside of Yuntai?

He clutched the thin blanket tighter, thinking back to the pill Lin Yuze had given him… and dangerous thoughts began to stir.

The laboratory was one of the busiest departments in all of Yuntai. By breakfast time, Dr. Wang and his assistants were already hard at work, the whole room filled with the aroma of coffee.

As Luo Xi walked in, a female researcher organizing files in the lobby greeted him warmly, “Long time no see! You recovered already?”"I'm already fine," Luo Xi shrugged. "Just been caught up in a bunch of boring stuff lately, haven’t had the time to come help."

“We always knew you’d make the cut,” the female researcher said without a hint of doubt. “Professor Wang told us—you just focus on preparing for the competition right now. Maybe one day…”

She glanced around, then lowered her voice: “We’ll officially be colleagues, and you won’t have to risk your life anymore.”

Luo Xi had first demonstrated his programming genius in the game. Bringing him into the lab to help build data models and develop tools had been Professor Wang’s own idea. Initially, the Security Division had opposed it, but Professor Wang pushed it through with the higher-ups. That’s how Luo Xi got this rare opportunity. While the lab never publicly stated the value of his work, the money saved likely reached into the hundreds of millions. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have earned the respect of the researchers.

While they were chatting, Professor Wang passed through the hallway and greeted him: “Ah, Xiao Luo, perfect timing—come with me.”

Luo Xi immediately bid the female researcher farewell and strode into Professor Wang’s office.

“Though I’ve been busy, I still checked in daily on the streams. Word is, you’re doing quite well,” Professor Wang said, pouring Luo Xi a cup of hot water before sitting down. “No matter what others think, I want you to win. This is your best—your only—chance.”

Luo Xi remained calm, undisturbed by either praise or pressure, and asked, “Professor, I’ve wondered for a long time—why have you always helped me, supported me? You’ve never really answered that.”

Professor Wang was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m sixty-nine now. Even if I push on, I probably won’t last much longer. I’ve spent nearly my entire life devoted to human biology. I’ve made some modest achievements. Looking back, I’d say my merits and mistakes balance out. At this stage in life, I don’t care about many things anymore. But I still believe in this: everyone has a place they’re meant to be, something they’re meant to do—not just for themselves, but for the greater good.”

Luo Xi let out a soft, somewhat bitter laugh. “You believe I could make a bigger impact on society… outside of Yuntai?”

Professor Wang shot back, “Is that so strange?”

Not strange. Even noble. But Luo Xi didn’t believe it.

Professor Wang gave a couple of coughs. “I called you here today to ask you to focus entirely on the competition. Don’t come to the lab during this period.”

Luo Xi was sharp. “Something wrong?”

Professor Wang only replied, “Just trust me.”

Luo Xi trusted him more than most. After a moment’s thought, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll go organize the unfinished database files on the computer. Send someone over later to take over the handoff—if I end up getting reset, I don’t want the work I did to go to waste.”

“Can’t you say something a little more optimistic?” Professor Wang sighed. “Go on, I’ll have Liu Ye take over your tasks.”

Luo Xi stood up. “Then… let’s hope we get to meet again.”

Professor Wang’s expression grew a bit sad and conflicted, but he finally gave a nod.

Luo Xi parted with casual ease, but the moment he stepped out of the office, the calm veil over his eyes finally sank into a quiet, repressed weight.Artificial humans are strictly forbidden from contacting the outside world—this is an ironclad rule in Haishi’s entertainment management regulations.

Even Luo Xi’s work computer had been thoroughly inspected countless times. It was completely disconnected from any network hardware—considered extremely “secure.”

But as the saying goes, the higher the wall, the smarter the thief.

After working here for several months, Luo Xi had already secretly memorized the login password of a nearby researcher. He quietly took out the new laptop Lin Yuze had given him, swiftly logged into the lab's internal network, and successfully gained access to the internet!

Even just seeing the most common search bar for natural humans was, to someone imprisoned in Yuntai, a symbol of freedom.

But Luo Xi didn’t get carried away. He immediately searched for the voting page for the alternate streamers, scrolled all the way to the bottom, and finally found Zhao Zhusheng’s name.

He snorted coldly, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He quickly wrote a small, harmless virus and embedded it into the webpage, then rationally cut the connection in an instant.

Whether or not Xia Zi had deliberately stopped Zhao Zhusheng from coming clean that day, there was undoubtedly a deeper, more sinister force behind her.

—Luo Xi was determined to see whether someone like Zhao Zhusheng, who had zero popularity, could actually get ranked, and what accounts would be voting for him.

In just those few minutes, the assistant assigned by Professor Wang came over. She looked relaxed, eating bread as she said, “The professor asked me to take over your code. You better explain everything properly. Lunch is on me!”

“No thanks. A streamer can’t eat anything from outside Yuntai. Aren’t you afraid you’ll get yourself in trouble?” Luo Xi mocked her for her lack of caution, then turned to his personal desktop and began seriously walking her through his ideas for building the new data analysis tools.

The midday sun shone brightly through the training room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the rubber mats into a playground paradise for Xiao Qi to roll around in.

Xiyu was tirelessly running on the treadmill nearby. Though drenched in sweat, his mind remained clear.

A security officer was lazily hanging around the door, occasionally peeking inside.

Suddenly, Xiyu stopped, stepped off the treadmill with a towel in hand, and headed straight to the shared restroom with his head lowered.

He filled a new sink with cold water and plunged his head in without a second thought.

No matter how strong your lungs, the oxygen eventually runs out.

What made this self-harming act most difficult was resisting the instinctive urge to lift his head and breathe.

When Xiyu couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he choked on the water. His arms trembled as he gripped the edge of the sink, his nose and throat raw and painful. His lungs burned fiercely from the water he’d inhaled—it was an agony even worse than anything he’d experienced in the game.

In just a few minutes, he had pushed himself to the brink of shock.The security officer wandering outside heard the sound of someone collapsing and rushed over in a panic to catch him: “Hey! No. 00777, what’s wrong?!”

Xiyu’s face was soaked, dazed and unresponsive. The officer began performing emergency CPR, but Xiyu’s once-clear consciousness was already drifting far away.

Countless fragments of memory swirled in the darkness of his mind, surging like a sea full of foam—sometimes violent, sometimes dispersing.

Water... endless water completely soaked his body, but strangely, Xiyu found he could breathe within it.

His mind was utterly muddled, unable to sense the movements around him.

Then suddenly, all the water drained away with a loud rush, and several people in white lab coats flipped Xiyu over and began patting him, urging, “Breathe, breathe harder!”

Xiyu obeyed blankly, coughing up his first mouthful of fluid by sheer survival instinct.

Soon, a breathing mask was placed over his mouth and nose, steadily extracting the remaining liquid from his lungs.

The people holding him hauled Xiyu off the metal table, rinsed him vigorously with warm water, then quickly dried him off. They dressed him in a simple white shirt and jeans, while various instruments checked his temperature and heartbeat—the entire scene was chaotic.

…What is this?

Xiyu had no idea what was happening, until someone took his hand and led him into a clean, pure-white room. Only then did someone say to him, “Your master is about to arrive. Do your best.”

As they spoke, they pressed something like a stopwatch against Xiyu’s ear.

A sharp pain shot through Xiyu’s head, but the foggy state quickly cleared. He became aware that he was inside a research facility at Capital Medical University, that he was a specially customized, entirely harmless new-generation artificial human, and that this so-called master was the one who funded his creation—someone he was meant to serve for life.

Just as he was frozen in shock, the door on the other side of the room opened gently.

A very familiar figure entered, accompanied by staff—it was someone who had appeared repeatedly in his memories...

Xiyu blurted out, “A-Yu?”

A-Yu looked overjoyed, a smile spreading across his handsome face.

He rushed over in three quick strides, naturally cupping Xiyu’s face to inspect it closely, then pulled him into a tight hug: “Thank goodness, it finally worked. I was let down six times—I was about to give up.”

“Don’t worry. This time he was absolutely created according to your specifications—appearance, genes, everything. I guarantee his complete loyalty,” said the lab coat next to Xiyu, obsequiously.

A-Yu ignored him, still observing Xiyu with fascination, then smiled. “Seventh time’s the charm. Since you finally came out right, I’ll call you Xiao Qi.”Xiyu responded uncontrollably, “Okay.”

“Can I take him with me now?” A-Yu asked.

The lab coat readily agreed, “Of course. We’ve prepared a comprehensive knowledge base for you to download. He’ll be able to handle your assistant work very soon.”

A-Yu waved his hand casually, “No need. I’ll teach him myself. He should be smart—knowledge is only reliable when you learn it firsthand.”

As he spoke, he pulled Xiyu by the arm. “Come on, where do you want to go? Want me to take you out for some fresh air?”

The lab coat tried to stop him, “It’s better if he has a period of adjustment first.”

Xiyu hesitated, then said quietly, “I want to see what the world looks like.”

A-Yu paused, then raised an eyebrow, “That’s easy—just hope you don’t find it boring!”

The ultra-international metropolis glittered with neon in the night. Between towering skyscrapers, vibrant holographic ads and aircrafts filled the air—it was dazzling.

Xiyu walked along the crowded streets, astonished and full of curiosity. He reached a tall, glowing overpass and gazed at the golden river of traffic, unable to snap out of it for a long while.

A-Yu patiently followed by his side, even finding it amusing. “Interesting?”

Xiyu turned his head slightly. “…This world is so big.”

A-Yu burst out laughing, then slung an arm over his shoulder. “This is just one tiny corner of the world. There are thousands of cities on Earth, plus snowfields, deserts, forests, swamps… You know about all that, right?”

Xiyu looked down in thought and nodded.

A-Yu said, “Alright then, are you hungry? I’ll take you to eat!”

Only then did Xiyu realize how empty his stomach felt.

“Come to think of it, this is technically the first meal of your life. What do you want to eat?” A-Yu tapped his watch, and a holographic projection of nearby popular restaurants appeared in the air.

Xiyu looked around blankly, then spotted a cat-shaped robot flying past. It was carrying a vending machine while playing cheerful music, and its whole body radiated a sweet scent.

“…Cute.”

Xiyu immediately reached out and pressed down on the cat robot’s head.“Do you want to eat this?” A-Yu scanned a QR code with his watch, and the cat-shaped robot immediately sprang to action, turning and handing a cloud-like treat to Xiyu.

Xiyu blankly took it and licked it with the tip of his tongue.

The sweet fragrance of sugar.

This was the first taste he had ever experienced as a human.

A-Yu smiled as he watched, then sighed with admiration. “You’re really beautiful.”

“...” Xiyu lowered his hand and softly asked, “Why make me… your assistant? What am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing special, I was just lonely.” A-Yu leaned against the railing of the overpass and sighed. “The world is big, but there’s no one I can trust.”

Xiyu looked down, thought for a moment, and then seriously looked at him. “You can trust me. I won’t betray you.”

“Of course, it’s already written in your genes.” A-Yu raised an eyebrow, then couldn’t help but playfully cup Xiyu’s face and squeeze it.

But no matter what nonsense he said, Xiyu gradually couldn’t hear it anymore.

The dream, once again, turned chaotic.

A pair of strong hands cupped Xiyu’s face, accompanied by urgent calls.

Xiyu painfully opened his eyes, feeling a burning pain throughout his body, and his vision blurred more than usual.

Luo Xi’s concerned face appeared in his sight. He immediately embraced Xiyu, holding his damp head, and said, “What happened? They said you drowned yourself?”

Xiyu then realized he was still at the training room’s restroom door, with several security personnel already standing on the water-streaked floor.

He had to lie. “I wanted to wash my face… suddenly I lost strength…”

“Take him for a checkup,” one of the security personnel spoke up. “00777, you’re too careless. It could be a side effect from overusing the nutrition chamber.”

Luo Xi was well aware of Xiyu’s recovery condition. He looked at Xiyu’s face, somewhat skeptical, but ultimately decided to confirm his health first.

While everyone was busy protecting Xiyu, the imposing Summer Zi unexpectedly appeared, striding directly to stand in front of Luo Xi. “So you’re here.”

Luo Xi chuckled. “What’s with that? The whole building is under surveillance. You could’ve just asked the software for my location.”"Then I won’t be polite." Xia Zi’s expression was cold, her brows furrowed as she said, "I’m here to officially notify you that you’re not allowed to enter or exit the laboratory before the finals!"

Luo Xi: "What’s the reasoning behind this?"

Xia Zi crossed her arms: "There’s already evidence showing that you’ve been in contact with other streamers near the laboratory."

Luo Xi: "That was Mu Yuan provoking me."

"Regardless, other contestants have also had contact with the same streamer. We can’t rule out that you two weren’t passing on messages." Xia Zi took a document from her uniform pocket and tossed it at him. "I’ve already reported this matter to headquarters, and this is the notice of the decision."

Luo Xi unfolded the paper and quickly scanned through it, realizing what Dr. Wang had been so nervous about that morning. He calmly smiled without showing any emotion: "Of course, no problem. If there’s nothing else, I’ll accompany Xiyu for a checkup."

Xia Zi looked at the pale Xiyu with disdain and coldly refused: "Why accompany him? Can’t the security department protect him properly? Take him away!"

The security personnel immediately obeyed, quickly escorting the weak Xiyu out of the training room.

Luo Xi remained standing in place, unaffected by Xia Zi’s attitude, and gave a thoughtful smile: "Deputy Xia used to be idle, but recently she’s become quite strict."

Xia Zi ignored his sharp words, snorted coldly, and quickly disappeared from sight.

Although he appeared calm in front of others, Luo Xi was actually deeply concerned about Xiyu’s safety.

He couldn’t focus on training and surprisingly took a rare day off, anxiously returning to the dorm to wait.

About an hour and a half later, Xiyu, having taken some medicine, quietly returned, closing the door and saying, "Sorry, I made you worry."

Luo Xi immediately stood up from the sofa, grabbed his wrist tightly, and asked, "What exactly were you doing?"

Xiyu’s gaze was innocent: "I... I really didn’t mean to..."

Perhaps the cameras stopped him from telling the truth, but Luo Xi didn’t believe that explanation. He was clearly a bit angry, frowning as he said, "No matter what, you mustn’t harm your body. Don’t let me see this again!"

Xiyu stared intently into Luo Xi’s eyes, neither nodding nor shaking his head.

Luo Xi raised an eyebrow.

Xiyu suddenly and inexplicably smiled: "Now, do you have someone you can trust?"

Luo Xi didn’t know why Xiyu asked that, but he frowned and glared at him: "What do you think?"Should one harbor hatred for what they are born with? Xiyu couldn't answer that, but even after recalling those things while drowning, he still didn't feel hatred. Loyalty and trust might be controlled by genes, but liking... liking this feeling... must come from the heart, right?

He lowered his eyes, wanting to understand the process behind this "liking."

Unfortunately, those memories were stingy and wouldn't reveal everything.

At this time, Luo Xi had already anxiously placed his hand on Xiyu's forehead, then forcefully pulled him to sit at the edge of the sofa. "Stop being so strange, I'm worried. I'll go get you some lunch."

With that, he was about to leave for the cafeteria.

"Hey." Xiyu called out to him. "I want to eat."

Luo Xi froze. "Huh?"

Xiyu repeated it.

Luo Xi's expression was a mix of confusion, but he shrugged and walked out.

Before today, Xiyu had completely forgotten that such a thing existed in the world: sweet clouds spun from heating sugar and winding them onto a stick, like something childish.

But after recalling it, he couldn't help but think about it more and even desperately wanted to prove the memory was real.

Xiyu clenched his hands, suddenly afraid that Luo Xi would return with Western desserts, something different from what he was expecting.

About half an hour later, there was a sound at the door.

Luo Xi came in, holding a takeaway box in one hand and a white, round object in the other. He said, speechless, "What you want to eat is more difficult than a pregnant woman's cravings! The cafeteria aunt almost died from me, and I ruined two of her pots."

Xiyu silently looked at Luo Xi, and for the first time, there was a light in his usually serene eyes.

Luo Xi walked to the sofa and handed it to him. "Here."

Xiyu didn't take it. Instead, he suddenly pulled Luo Xi off balance and hugged him tightly, then softly asked, "Do you know what it tastes like?"

Luo Xi, speechless: "Of course, it's sweet. What's wrong with you?"

Xiyu smiled softly. "Mm, very sweet."

Volume Seven: Strange Thoughts in the Mortal World.