Chapter 95: Ideal

“So this is the game you said you were stuck on?”

Bai Li realized with a start, her gaze sweeping the area.

She withdrew her hand from the petals she had touched and looked at her fingertips—there was nothing there.

“I never thought games nowadays could be so realistic, just like that… Ultra Dream? And it even pulled me in for co-op?”

Lin Du had no idea how to fabricate a story.

After thinking it over, he decided that rather than come up with a complicated tale and get caught, it was better to just go along with what she said.

So he simply nodded.

“Mm… yes. This is the newest… game.”

“Then you’re pretty efficient.”

Bai Li punched his shoulder.

“I just mentioned it last night, and you brought me along this morning.”

She paused, her tone carrying a hint of complaint.

“I called you all morning, but you didn’t stir. You were just lying in bed, ignoring me completely. I thought you were dead…”

“Wait.”

Lin Du raised a hand to stop her.

“It’s already morning out there?”

“Yeah.”

Bai Li nodded.

“The alarm woke me up at seven, but luckily it’s Saturday, so you can play as long as you want.”

After Bai Li finished speaking, Lin Du felt something was off again.

“No, that’s not the point.”

He looked up at her.

“You came into my room?”

Bai Li felt a twinge of guilt under his stare, but she forged ahead anyway.

“Y-yeah, you wouldn’t wake up.”

“And then? What did you do?”

Lin Du’s voice trembled.

“Um… I…”

Bai Li awkwardly scratched her cheek, her voice growing softer until the last words were barely a whisper.

“Your bed looked really soft…”

Lin Du raised his hand and covered his face.

“Alright, I get it.”

That would also explain why she had ended up in this world.

Maybe the wristband’s use affected a small area around it, and when Bai Li got close to him, she was caught in that power.

It wasn’t some “co-op feature”—just an ordinary accident.

“Not bad, little brother.”

Chi Yu had somehow appeared beside him and lightly elbowed Lin Du in the side.

He tilted his face up, his golden eyes full of mischief.

“To have such a beautiful fox sister sleeping with you—I’m really jealous.”

“Go away, go away.”

Lin Du waved his hand impatiently.

“Kids shouldn’t say things like that. Who taught you?”

“I’m not a kid, little brother.”

Chi Yu’s expression suddenly turned serious, the curve of his lips vanishing, his gaze steady.

“I am…”

He counted on his fingers, but after a while, he still couldn’t come up with a specific number.

“Hmm… anyway, I’m a lot older, older than all of you.”

He finished speaking, clasped his hands behind his back, and lifted his chin like a teacher waiting for students to ask questions.

Bai Li looked at him, then at Lin Du, and asked:

“Is he… an NPC?”

Lin Du was silent for a moment, then looked up toward the black mountain beyond the village.

“I have a question I want to ask you first.”

He turned to Chi Yu and pointed at the mountain in the distance.

“That dragon on the mountain out there… what is it really…”

Chi Yu followed his finger and looked at the mountain.

The boy’s profile was tranquil in the light, his eyelashes low, his red hair swaying gently.

The boy slowly raised his head and gazed calmly at Lin Du.

“That’s me. Or rather, a part of me.”

“What’s going on?”

Bai Li also noticed the mountain shrouded in darkness, where a black dragon coiled.

Even from this distance, the oppressive aura was suffocating.

She instinctively moved half a step closer to Lin Du.

Chi Yu walked in front of them, turned around, and faced the distant mountain.

“Actually… this whole world is a projection of my memories.”

He lowered his eyelids, as if recalling the past.

“Many years ago, there was a village like this in my world.”

“Everything you see really existed, but they disappeared a long time ago…”

“I knew it.”

Lin Du stepped in front of Bai Li.

“You said that dragon is also you—what do you mean?”

Chi Yu was silent for a moment, head bowed, as if organizing his words.

Then he looked up, his gaze passing over Lin Du’s shoulder to the black mountain in the distance.

“The villagers found me when I was young.”

His voice grew soft.

“They were very kind people. Back then I was tiny and knew nothing. They gave me food, a place to sleep, taught me to talk, taught me to write.”

“My power gradually emerged as I grew older. In the end, I couldn’t control it…”

“But I failed them.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He didn’t continue, only let out a soft sigh.

Neither of them pressed him; they just silently watched the boy raise his head again.

“Do you know about the Star Wedge?”

Chi Yu suddenly changed the subject.

“Yes.”

Lin Du nodded.

“The strange person called it a treasure that lets you have whatever you wish for.”

Chi Yu tilted his head.

“Strange person? That’s an odd name.”

He waved his hand, dismissing the idea.

“Having whatever you wish for—that’s an exaggeration. It doesn’t have that kind of power. To fulfill a wish, you have to pay an equal price.”

He held up a finger and wagged it in front of them.

“Equal exchange—you don’t get everything for nothing.”

“After the village was destroyed, I came across the Star Wedge by accident.”

He looked up, watching the petals floating in the air.

“But I had nothing to pay. I had already lost everything.”

“So, to prevent my power from running wild and hurting anyone else, I had to do it.”

“I gave up my freedom, chose to separate my power, seal it completely, and then sleep inside this Star Wedge.”

“Later, you seem to have found this gem and used some means to obtain the power sealed within.”

Lin Du remained silent.

He knew what Chi Yu was referring to.

“But that’s wrong. That power doesn’t belong to you.”

Chi Yu’s voice grew heavier.

“You’re only borrowing it—or rather, constantly stealing it. As you use it, sooner or later you’ll be eroded by that power and become its slave.”

He stared intently at Lin Du.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Bai Li stood to the side, her gaze shifting between the two of them.

She felt the atmosphere had turned subtly tense, but she seemed to be just an observer, not entitled to an opinion.

Chi Yu took a step forward, raised his face, his golden pupils calm and earnest.

Like a child explaining a great truth, or an old man offering a final warning.

“I know why you came here,” he said.

“But I’m sorry—you can’t use that power anymore.”