Then, Su Yang followed in silently and poured a glass of water for Lu Chenyuan without a word.
He then began tidying up one of the electronic whiteboards already filled with notes, archiving Lu Ruoxi’s flowing thoughts into encrypted storage.
His movements were practiced and natural, as if he had repeated this action countless times.
"Brother, look."
Lu Ruoxi pointed at one of the whiteboards.
On it, there were no complex neural network diagrams—just an abstract, seemingly suspended sphere surrounded by bewildering mathematical symbols.
"All our work until now has been based on 'bits.' Either 0 or 1."
"We’ve made them increasingly complex, increasingly powerful."
"But now, I realize we might have chosen the wrong foundation from the very beginning."
Her pen drew a large X over the classic 0 and 1.
"We shouldn’t keep searching for treasure on a two-dimensional map."
Her gaze grew unfathomably deep.
"We should create a new universe."
Lu Chenyuan looked at his sister, then at the whiteboard covered in symbols as cryptic as ancient scriptures.
Suddenly, he understood—what she was doing was even greater, even more audacious than creating "Kaitian" itself.
She was aiming to overturn the very cornerstone of modern artificial intelligence.
"What Ruoxi means is…" Su Yang interjected at just the right moment, his voice tinged with unmistakable reverence and pride.
"She plans to introduce a 'quantum architecture' to the field of artificial intelligence."
"If you think of today’s large models as using abacuses to calculate pi, where we’re only competing over who has the bigger or faster abacus…"
"Then what she’s attempting now is inventing the computer."
Su Yang’s analogy instantly clarified the revolutionary nature of her work for Lu Chenyuan.
"A bit is a switch—either on or off. But a quantum bit can be both on and off simultaneously. A single qubit can carry exponentially more information," Su Yang added.
"What she’s building is a true AI brain, not just a supercomputer simulating one."
Lu Chenyuan studied his sister.
She was still slender, still quiet.
Yet within her, it was as if an entire universe was exploding into being.
"This path… is difficult," Lu Chenyuan said, his voice low.
"I know."
"There might be no results."
"I know."
"Then why—"
"But, brother," Lu Ruoxi interrupted, her gaze seeming to pierce through physical barriers,
"It’s there."
"I’ve seen it."
"I’ve seen the door—the one leading to a higher-dimensional computational space."
"I can’t pretend I haven’t."
With that, she turned back to the whiteboard, picked up her pen, and lost herself in her world once more.
Nothing else existed in her eyes now—only those cold yet infinitely captivating mathematical symbols.
Time itself seemed to freeze in that moment.
Lu Chenyuan stood there, silent for a long while.
He suddenly felt an invisible chasm opening between him and his sister.
He could move the world with capital and strategy.
He had even set his sights on the stars.
But he could no longer keep up with her thoughts.
Her mind was ascending at a terrifying speed, soaring toward heights ordinary human intellect could never reach.
Watching her solitary figure immersed in that realm of pure reason, an inexplicable ache welled up in his chest.
It’s lonely at the top.
This road was destined to be walked alone.
Just then, Su Yang stepped forward and draped a thin jacket lightly over Lu Ruoxi’s shoulders.
Then, he picked up the long-cold cup of coffee from her desk and walked out.
Moments later, he returned with a steaming glass of milk in its place.
He set it down beside her hand.
Not a single word passed between them.
Lu Ruoxi didn’t seem to notice either.
Yet the faintest hint of a smile touched the corner of her lips.
Having done this, Su Yang didn’t leave.
Instead, he pulled up a chair nearby, opened his laptop, and began translating the fragmented theoretical sketches from Lu Ruoxi’s whiteboard into quantum simulation algorithms that could run on classical computers.
This was his way of keeping pace with her.
He might never fly beside her at the same altitude of thought.
But he would always be the control tower behind her—clearing her runway, replenishing her fuel, ensuring she could fly higher and farther.
Seeing this, Lu Chenyuan’s worries eased.
His sister wasn’t alone.
Because she had Su Yang.
A companion willing to spend a lifetime looking up to her, guarding her, following her.
That was enough.
...
Time slipped by unnoticed.
In the crib, little Lu Shi’an stirred and let out a soft whimper.
The baby was hungry.
Lu Chenyuan walked over and lifted his son into his arms.
He mouthed a silent farewell to Lu Ruoxi and Su Yang.
Su Yang nodded in acknowledgment.
Lu Ruoxi remained lost in her world.
Carrying his son, Lu Chenyuan left the office that belonged to the future.
Back in his car, he expertly prepared a bottle and fed the hungry child.
Lu Shi’an drank eagerly, his dark, grape-like eyes fixed curiously on his father.
Gazing into those pure, innocent eyes, Lu Chenyuan found Lu Ruoxi’s words echoing in his mind:
"It’s there."
"I’ve seen it."
Suddenly, he smiled.
He bent down and kissed his son’s warm forehead.
"An'an," he whispered.
"Your aunt is drawing us a map of a new universe."
"And what Daddy must do is build a ship."
"A ship that can carry us anywhere on that map."
He looked up, his vision piercing through the windshield toward the cloudless blue sky—and beyond it, the unfathomable depths of space.
Everyone has their own battlefield.
Lu Ruoxi’s was at the farthest edge of theory.
His was among the distant stars.
Together, the siblings were pushing the boundaries of human civilization forward—one relentless centimeter at a time.
Just then, his phone rang.
Mo Qingli was calling.
"Chenyuan, how’s Ruoxi?"
Her voice instantly pulled Lu Chenyuan back from the abstract world of pure reason to the tangible present.
Instead of answering, he said something entirely unexpected:
"Qingli, I love you. I miss you—so, so much right now."
There was a palpable pause on the other end. After six or seven years together, Lu Chenyuan rarely spoke such words.
Then, a voice full of tenderness came through the phone, reaching Lu Chenyuan's ears.
"Mhm, Chenyuan, I love you too. You and Shi'an, come pick me up after work."
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
