Moonlit: We’re finally down to the last arc~
Volume 4: Twilight Galaxy
The “Deep Blue Sea” has come to an end, yet, both players and viewers find it hard to return to reality. Especially the breathtaking scene on the Day of Doom, a miraculous play of light and shadow painted with the price of the entire world. Though the two months were not long, everyone felt a prolonged illusion, as if they had experienced the entire journey from birth to death. Their emotions fluctuated throughout this familiarization with the world—warmth, danger, great joy, great sorrow, shock, sudden realization. The complexity of these emotions is difficult to fully describe, but after all the stunning moments faded into endless nothingness, everyone felt a sense of emptiness and loss.
Because they knew the Deep Blue Sea had not been truly destroyed, there was not much sadness in their hearts, but an indescribable regret lingered. It was as if they had understood something, but upon careful reflection, it seemed as though they hadn’t. However, that world, where every blade of grass and tree was steeped in tenderness, left a deep impression in their hearts. Unnoticed, a softness settled quietly within them. Perhaps one day, this softness would take root and quietly grow without their awareness.
As a one-time survival game, clearing the game meant that “Deep Blue Sea” would cease its operation. Yet, it left a significant mark in the realm of real survival games, pioneering a new era in survival gaming.
Three days after the game was cleared, the official website of “Deep Blue Sea” launched the game’s settlement. Besides distributing various game rewards, the website provided a comprehensive introduction to “Deep Blue Sea” and explanations of how to clear the game. The discussion platform on the official website remained highly active after the game ended. Apart from the astonishing rewards from “Deep Blue Sea”, other popular topics included the oath of life and death between Ye Jian and Shu Xun, the two gods winning effortlessly once again, and Shu Xun’s peculiar “built-in game-clearing” trait, which fascinated countless viewers.
At this moment, Shu Xun, the center of attention due to his unique game-clearing constitution, was comfortably nestled in a small hanging chair, basking in the sun. After leaving the Water Blue Galaxy, everyone gradually returned to their own galaxies. Naturally, Shu Xun and Ye Jian also returned to their residence. Before that, however, they made a stop at the Information Management Department to update Shu Xun’s personal information. Thanks to the presence of live-streaming software, Shu Xun had practically grown up under everyone’s watchful eyes. With ample documentation, all procedures went smoothly, and Shu Xun finally confirmed that inserting his identity into the information database did not cause any issues.
When they returned home, it was late at night. Ye Jian wore a (tense) blank expression for quite some time because Shu Xun’s little bedding was now placed right next to his pillow. But unlike before, Shu Xun was no longer a small bundle. Ye Jian stood frozen in his confusion for an unknown amount of time until the sound of snoring suddenly reached his ears…
Ye Jian looked towards the sound and saw a furry ball completely filling the small hanging chair on the south side of the coffee table, with some of it even spilling over the edges. The chair, which had been indented, now bulged into a smooth, rounded curve. The blue-gray fur rose and fell rhythmically, glistening like satin under the light, and the soft snoring was especially clear in the quiet room.
Ye Jian, who had been agonizing for who knows how long: “…”
In the end, the general maintained his blank expression as he silently returned to the bedroom, his inner turmoil a river of tears.
Over the next two days, Ye Jian, who had been tense every night, finally calmed down, only to be engulfed by a cloud of depression. The reason was that the general discovered that after returning home, the hierarchy of importance in Shu Xun’s mind was as follows: the small hanging chair, the fish tank, the kitchen, the dining table, Big Bliss, Little Bliss, and then himself…
After returning home, Shu Xun spent half of his time in his beast form. As a fluffy ball, his favorite spot was the small hanging chair by the coffee table. He would curl up in it to sleep. Upon waking, he would cross his little legs and check the updates about “Deep Blue Sea” on his light brain. Heaven knows the confusion Ye Jian felt the first time he saw the furry ball cross its legs and look at the screen. Meanwhile, the furry ball was much more composed, raising its little paw and saying, “Good morning”. After that, it continued grooming its whiskers while watching the screen.
Ye Jian suddenly had a feeling that he was soon going to discover many different sides of Shu Xun.
The rewards from “Deep Blue Sea” were indeed abundant. The game-clearers were granted partial development rights to the Water Blue Galaxy. Over the past few days, Shu Xun had already begun studying interstellar resource development and management. Although the system was vast and complex, Shu Xun, who felt wealthy with a tank of fish and Ye Jian, believed he was quite rich. With no immediate danger of starving, Shu Xun was in no rush at all.
Ye Jian, who had no idea what Shu Xun was thinking, sneezed and continued handling his official duties with an expressionless face.
After returning to the real world, the sudden slowdown in the pace of life allowed both Shu Xun and Ye Jian to settle into a comfortable routine. Ye Jian would occasionally go out for a while to handle some necessary matters, and Shu Xun was finally able to go out alone. However, someone who had lived alone for twenty years was clearly accustomed to solitude. Without realizing it, he had developed a habit of staying indoors. So, most of the time, Shu Xun would still nestle in the small hanging chair, using his light brain to gather the information he wanted.
Just like now, Ye Jian had gone out yesterday, leaving only Shu Xun and Big Bliss at home. It was nearing noon. Big Bliss was bustling around the kitchen in an apron while Shu Xun was nestled in the hanging chair, chatting with Meng Muyu, Gray, and Lie Yang through his light brain. This time, there was no logout time limit, so everyone exchanged contact information, though Nuan Dong declined. The Phantom race is highly exclusive, preferring not to engage too much with other races. Naturally, no one pressed him on it, but Nuan Dong mentioned that if there were similar games in the future, he would participate again.
As for Nuan Dong, the group indeed couldn’t see through him. He appeared suddenly and disappeared just as quickly. After the game ended, he vanished without a trace, making it hard not to suspect something about his identity.
In the chat window at that moment, five names were displayed: Lie Yang, Meng Muyu, Gray, Shu Xun, and Ye Jian. Gray explained that his real name was Yan Hui, but since it sounded a bit like “ash”, everyone could just call him Gray.
Lie Yang: “Don’t you guys feel like Nuan Dong has this vibe of coming and going without a trace? Even after clearing the game, his emotions didn’t seem to change much.”
Meng Muyu: “The Phantom race has extremely high mental strength and can easily control their facial expressions. Typically, when a game is cleared, players show some emotion, but Nuan Dong was controlling his expressions, neither showing relief nor any other emotion. It’s like he was wearing a mask, making it impossible to gauge his true thoughts.”
Shu Xun: “Not showing anything is, in fact, revealing something. Otherwise, knowing that the Phantom race is already under suspicion, Nuan Dong, with his mental strength, could have controlled his expression to display a normal reaction. But he didn’t, and even Lie Yang noticed his abnormality. This indicates that he saw something extremely shocking, so much so that he couldn’t spare the focus to control his expression, leaving him only able to maintain his usual warm smile.”
Lie Yang sent an emoji of someone clutching their heart. “This feels like the most condescending compliment I’ve ever received.”
Shu Xun stroked his little whiskers and casually sent an emoji of a pat on the head. “No worries. You’ll get used to it.”
Lie Yang immediately responded with an emoji of a cat enjoying being petted. Just as he was about to send another message, a new one popped up.
Ye Jian: “Heh.”
Lie Yang instantly shuddered and sent an emoji of fur standing on end, then went silent.
The once lively chatroom suddenly fell into dead silence.
A certain general, busy with his duties, exuded an icy aura that made everyone around him retreat in fear. Bai Ya, who was standing in front of the desk, felt uneasy, wondering if there had been a mistake in the report he had just presented. Gathering his courage, he cautiously asked, “General, is there something wrong?”
Ye Jian lifted his head, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. The person in front of the desk instinctively straightened up even more, bracing for a reprimand.
Ye Jian’s cold voice echoed, “Where was that emoji made?”
Bai Ya: ???
A moment later, Bai Ya, still somewhat bewildered, stumbled out of the room. Even after walking a considerable distance, he couldn’t shake the shock. The usually cold and aloof General Ye was actually interested in studying chat emojis, and not just any emojis—he was fascinated by the soft and cute art style.
So, moments later, in the chatroom:
Gray: “I agree with Shu Xun’s theory. Nuan Dong might have had suspicions before entering ‘Deep Blue Sea’, which is why he deliberately maintained a neutral expression during the final. And the name that the green grass chose for himself at the end, it doesn’t seem like it was purely to sound masculine.”
Shu Xun: “Leng Bei, Leng Bei—in the Five Elements theory, the five directions East, South, Center, West, and North correspond to the five seasons: Spring, Summer, Late Summer, Autumn, and Winter. The North represents Winter, so Leng Bei essentially means Cold Winter, a name that is the exact opposite of Nuan Dong.”
Meng Muyu: “I see. Shu Xun had been teaching Leng Bei and Ling Yang about cultivation during the journey. Leng Bei definitely isn’t just a simple name.”
Lie Yang: “I guessed that long ago! Leng Bei doesn’t have the same imposing vibe, so there must be some deeper meaning.” He followed this with a fist-clenching, arm-flexing emoji. But just as the emoji appeared, another message from Ye Jian popped up.
Ye Jian: “Heh.”
The chatroom fell silent again…
As the atmosphere grew tense, Ye Jian sent another message—a photo. The content of the photo was simple: a slender hand. The hand looked quite impressive, long and well-formed, appearing very powerful. Just as everyone was puzzling over what hidden clue the photo might contain and was about to start a discussion, Ye Jian sent yet another message.
Ye Jian: “I worked all morning. My hand is tired.”
Meng Muyu, who had been rapidly analyzing the photo, nearly spat water all over his light brain. Gray quietly deleted his carefully constructed line of logical reasoning, while Lie Yang, after pouncing towards his screen, took a closer look to ensure he hadn’t misread anything.
Shu Xun, who had just stood up to grab a grape from the coffee table, had his attention fixed on the light brain. As a result, he missed his step and, with a thud, fell headfirst onto the coffee table. One of his little feet got stuck in the hanging chair, and his entire fluffy body formed a smooth curve, plastered against the table.
Just as everyone was caught in a whirlwind of confusion, Ye Jian sent another message—this time, it was an emoji. The emoji depicted a small, gray, furry wolf cub, sitting there with its mouth open wide, yawning, before letting out a few soft, non-threatening howls. None of them had wolf bloodlines, so they couldn’t understand what the little wolf was saying. As they stared at the screen in bewilderment, the wolf cub began rolling around from one side of the screen to the other.
The screen displayed the little gray wolf, who was clearly in a playful mood, practically begging for attention. The sheer cuteness was almost overwhelming, and after a few seconds of stunned silence:
Lie Yang sent a series of horrified emojis. “Help! I think my light brain’s infected!”
Meng Muyu quickly followed up, “It’s not your light brain that’s infected—it’s Ye Jian! What’s the military’s emergency contact number? Has Ye Jian been hacked?”
Gray: “…”
Ye Jian, with an expressionless face, looked at the messages on the screen, feeling nothing inside.
Though his position was twisted, the fluffy ball’s eyes quickly filled with amusement. He immediately sent a head-patting emoji in response.
On the screen, the rolling gray wolf finally stopped and sat obediently.
Ye Jian, still expressionless, felt utterly satisfied.
Everyone else: “…” They all felt an inexplicable urge to flip something over.
At this point, Meng Muyu and the others didn’t yet understand the concept of “dog food”—a term used to describe when a couple’s public display of affection unintentionally makes others feel envious. They only felt like they were being force-fed something strange.
Meanwhile, back at the military base, everyone noticed that their normally stoic general seemed to be in an unusually good mood today. Every now and then, he would glance at his light brain, a look of contentment crossing his face.
At home, the living room was bathed in warm sunlight, which gently illuminated the clean coffee table. The fluffy ball was still sprawled out, but now both of his little feet were resting on the hanging chair, while his soft body was spread out like a pancake on the table. His little paws nimbly tapped on the screen, occasionally grooming his whiskers, looking utterly relaxed.
