127. It Seems Like a Fish's Memory

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Chen Sheng took off his glasses and swept his gaze around, searching everywhere for a certain girl.

Naturally, he found no one.

After all, it was still the dead of night, and Yu Youxin was naturally still occupying Chen Sheng’s bedroom.

Almost instinctively, Chen Sheng walked to the bedroom door and raised a hand to knock, but suddenly stopped. He had no idea how to begin, nor was he certain that Yu Youxin would be willing to open the door at this hour.

Standing there, he hesitated for quite a while before lowering his head in dejection.

“It’s obviously my own bedroom, yet I still have to stand outside the door and hesitate…”

Muttering these pointed words, Chen Sheng turned around and walked to the sofa. He flopped down onto it, then casually switched off the light.

Forget it. Forget it. I’ll deal with it tomorrow!

With that thought in mind, Chen Sheng unconsciously closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

For some unknown reason, Chen Sheng fell asleep extraordinarily quickly.

That instantly put the girl in the bedroom in a foul mood.

Lying prone on Chen Sheng’s bed, Yu Youxin knitted her lovely little brows and stared at the bedroom door with her large eyes. She had sensed Chen Sheng approaching just moments before, and had wondered whether he had somehow returned from that bizarre world again.

Then she sensed that he wanted to knock, so she stopped pondering the matter and waited for him to do so, ready to open the door for him.

Yet after waiting and waiting for quite some time, she sensed him walk away again.

At first, Yu Youxin was still hopeful, thinking that perhaps he had merely gone to get a drink of water or something. But moments later, she sensed someone sleeping heavily on the sofa—and the person’s presence was exceptionally familiar.

“Idiot Old Chen…”

A meaningless murmur escaped her little mouth. Then the girl grabbed the quilt beside her with one hand, pulled it over her face, and rolled over twice, considering herself properly tucked in.

In any case, she had no need to sleep. This was merely a symbolic nap.

After all, she had already slept long enough over the past thousand years. She had gone to sleep during the height of a flourishing dynasty and awakened to find that dynasty reduced to a former one. Even White Cloud Mountain, which represented the imperial bloodline, had become a place shrouded in an eerie atmosphere.

The world called it the Undying, ranked eighty-sixth.

That was exactly one rank above Three Rivers City.

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…

When the sun rose, Chen Sheng came out to bask in its warmth. He had specially prepared a small sofa and placed it in the corridor outside the door. Facing the faint sunlight, he lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

His skin was no longer as frighteningly pale as it had been at first—white as though carved from jade—but compared with that of an ordinary man nearing thirty, he was still far too pale.

Of course, the most important point was how drastically his skin differed from his former appearance.

The sun slowly moved from the eastern horizon toward the center of the sky, and the winter sunlight gradually grew scorching. Feeling the faint heat upon his skin, Chen Sheng’s mood began to brighten. It meant that today, too, he could happily become a little darker.

Come to think of it, he had experienced a strange sensation while sunbathing these past few days.

It was as though he were charging himself.

Under the blazing sunlight, Chen Sheng could clearly feel his strength gradually increasing. The most obvious change was naturally in his physical power.

When he had carried the sofa outside earlier, he had used only one hand, and it had felt remarkably easy, without the slightest sense of weight.

Although it was only a small sofa, it still weighed at least seventy or eighty pounds.

How strange!

“This may be because that peculiar method of cultivation was incomplete. After I mastered it, the robust physique and astonishing speed it granted me were themselves fundamentally incomplete. But once I began transforming into a life-form from another dimension, that peculiar cultivation method seemed to have been completed—and the deficiencies in my body began to be filled in as well.”

That was what Chen Sheng thought.

The reason he had been unwilling to reveal this ability in the past, to show off before others and pursue fame and fortune, was partly due to his personality and his indifference toward various desires. But this was also an important consideration.

A physique far stronger than an ordinary person’s, along with speed swift enough to rival the wind and lightning—these were extraordinary powers. Yet in Chen Sheng’s eyes, they were also imperfect extraordinary powers.

They could easily be countered.

And once his identity became known, certain people would find it exceedingly easy to manipulate him.

After all, Chen Sheng could achieve freedom from desire, but he could not become devoid of emotion or fear.

Using one’s family as a threat was despicable, but it was also an incomparably effective method, one that had been used throughout the ages.

That was why so many novelists wrote their protagonists as orphans. It had to be said that this was a setting that placed them in an inherently invincible position. That way, even if the protagonist possessed no common sense whatsoever, he could remain fearless and unburdened, with nothing to hold him back. Nor would he forcibly yank readers out of bed and shout, “Dalang, it’s time for your medicine!”

Even though Chen Sheng now possessed more extraordinary power than before, he still had no intention of showing off before others.

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He now had a feeling rather like sitting in oblivion, beyond the self.

Aside from beauty before his eyes, which could still cause slight ripples across his heart, he could remain unmoved by everything else—for instance, the temptations of money and promotion.

“For most people in this world, everything they do throughout their lives amounts to nothing more than scraping by. What is called glory is merely the art of scraping by. A difficult road is merely the absence of any way to scrape by.”

That was the clearest expression of Chen Sheng’s thoughts.

Suddenly, Chen Sheng heard the sound of a door opening.

He looked over, and, unsurprisingly, saw that the girl had finally opened the bedroom door.

She was still wearing that oversized, ill-fitting pajama set. With her arms slightly spread, she drifted out as lightly as a happy little bird, carrying a faint, delicate fragrance as she came to Chen Sheng’s side.

Her fair, jade-like arm immediately rose to block part of the sunlight. Then her eyes shifted, and her clear pupils settled on Chen Sheng, still lying on the sofa.

“Old Chen, you’re sunbathing again!” she said brightly.

Remembering what had happened the night before, Chen Sheng’s eyes lit up.

Was this not the perfect opportunity to apologize?

Without hesitation, Chen Sheng hurriedly admitted his mistake.

After all, what had happened the previous night really had been his fault.

He had lost himself in that healing game and gotten carried away, unable to come back to his senses for a while.

Still, there was one thing the little girl had said that was absolutely correct.

That healing game really was only suitable for playing alone, not for teaming up with others. Otherwise, once someone let themselves go, it was all too easy for conflicts to arise.

However, faced with Chen Sheng’s sincere apology, the girl only stared at him in bewilderment.

“Huh? Old Chen, what are you talking about? Why are you apologizing to me?”

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