Chapter 122: Wake Up, It

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you play the piano.” Luo Shengying sat in a shopping mall, playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata in perfect harmony with Su Lin beside her.

Passersby gathered around, listening to the harmonious duet between the man and woman.

“Many years,” Su Lin replied with a smile.

Back then, to exchange for this master-level piano skill, he spent 20 “heavy gold” points to obtain it.

That truly was a nostalgic time—eighteen months, twenty points. Though just a minor skill, it marked his first step away from clowning and onto the ladder of art.

On a variety show interview, he used this skill to utterly humiliate an expert who had openly mocked him, claiming he had no real talent and only relied on absurdity and marketing to grab attention.

Honestly, the guy’s words weren’t entirely wrong. Everyone was just trying to make a living—he’d admitted his videos were meant for laughs. But this guy clearly wanted to turn him into a cautionary tale to boost his own reputation, so Su Lin didn’t hesitate to show off his flair in the expert’s own domain.

Ssshh—

Even now, recalling this simple, everyday urban scene still felt satisfying.

But he had turned the mighty System of Manifesting Before the World into a system for becoming a celebrity of daily urban life—sad, helpless, yet hilarious.

I wonder how many Manifestation Points I’ve earned by pursuing this high-end, premium route at this moment. Without me, the top few special effects creators on the internet couldn’t even afford to exchange for a piano-playing skill.

Foolish child, it’s faster to just clown around. Even a mosquito’s blood is blood—he can’t generate extraordinary events twenty-four hours a day.

If you can’t let go of your pride, I’ll help you. Compared to humanity’s survival, a little face-saving is nothing.

The viral code across eras lies in my hands—we will surely change the future!

After this, buy two packs of hot pot base. Tomorrow I’ll perform “Iron Pot Stew Self.”

Dawn Hall

The melodious music echoed through the spacious hall, while moonlight streamed through the glass windows above the walls, illuminating the dark interior.

Countless feathers of light spontaneously formed, drifting gently downward as the Holy God’s ten fingers played the black and white keys.

Exquisite and breathtaking.

“Too flashy,” Lao Lu snapped a photo with his phone. “I really want to know what’s going on in his head all day.”

Lao Tang’s throat felt dry. He thought it was pretentious too, but that didn’t stop first-time viewers from feeling the sheer elegance of the scene.

The two sat quietly until Su Lin finished playing, then gave two perfunctory claps.

“Send me the photo, thanks,” Su Lin said.

He rose from the stool, turned off the live stream function of the group chat, and ignored the group members’ personal comments about him.

The clothing woven from light particles faded, revealing the black down jacket underneath.

“I’m so handsome,” Su Lin said.

Lao Lu fell silent for a moment, then said: “I really wish you were mute. It’d be good for your followers.”

“I don’t need followers,” Su Lin extinguished the glow; the drifting light feathers dissolved into nothingness. “Let’s go find Chu Zihang.”

Awakening Yemengjia doesn’t even require a resurrection spell—her spirit is still alive, she merely lacks a physical body.

The three walked side by side; Lao Lu opened a portal ahead.

“Aren’t we looking for Yemengjia?” Lao Tang asked, puzzled.

“Didn’t you tell him?” Su Lin asked Lao Lu.

“Forgot.”

The three stepped through the portal to the entrance of the Kouten’ya Nightclub.

“Chu Zihang is your brother-in-law. Yemengjia’s egg is parasitizing inside Chu Zihang,” Lao Lu explained.

“What the hell is she doing?!” he exclaimed, voice shocked: “She’s serious?!”

“Serious.”

“Lust really did give her to the right person!”

Su Lin added beside him: “Oh, by the way, Caesar is Macallan—Pompey’s son. He’s your nephew.”

Lao Tang clutched his head, face filled with disbelief.

“Do dragon kings all have a thing for breeding human hybrids now?!”

“You’ve all lost your minds!”

“Shut up, you guy who’s spent twenty years in an open society and still can’t get a woman.”

Chu Zihang always finishes what he starts—even as a male host, he wouldn’t just disappear without notice.

After all, it was the Sperm Whale who took them in.

He held a farewell ceremony in advance, then performed a sword technique show, bowed deeply amid fans’ tears and shouts, marking the end of “Youjing,” the flower-like male host.

Then came Caesar’s exit performance.

Frenzied fans tossed wads of cash, desperate to keep him, but he walked straight toward the backstage, followed the corridor back to his room, and began packing his personal belongings.

He didn’t have much luggage—just some clothes.

He turned on the faucet and began washing champagne off his body.

Last night, he and Caesar arrived at the Michelin three-star restaurant, only to find two mixed-bloods fighting in the street—and all of them were using Blood Surge techniques.

Normally, they should’ve found a hidden spot to observe and try contacting the school.

But Chu Zihang charged out directly, activated Fourth-Degree Blood Surge, and rushed toward the god riding the eight-legged steed.

The being on the eight-legged steed removed his mask—and revealed the face of Chu Tianjiao.

“Stop!”

“I am your father!”

Then both sides retreated, leaving Chu Zihang and Caesar stunned.

Only when Anger emerged from the restaurant did they leave.

Splash—

The cold tap water slightly calmed Chu Zihang’s emotions.

He had no time to deal with Caesar’s father’s identity—his own father had returned; that’s Caesar’s problem now.

The issue before him now is…

Lu Mingfei…

“If you’re also a dragon…”

He turned off the faucet, grabbed a nearby towel, dried his body, and changed into clean clothes.

Knock knock knock

A knock came at the door. Chu Zihang turned the handle and opened it.

“….”

Before him stood a grinning young man waving at him—unlike his former messy, unkempt appearance, he now wore a tailored, luxurious outfit, his hair neatly styled.

Behind him stood two others—one of whom… was a deity he’d seen in his mind…

The Holy God, Su Lin

“Long time no see, Senior Brother,” Lao Lu greeted Chu Zihang.

“Come in,” Chu Zihang stepped inside.

The group closed the door.

“Who are you?” Chu Zihang asked.

“Lu Mingfei, Senior Brother, don’t you recognize me?” Lao Lu spread his arms.

“The Lu Mingfei I know has a different gaze,” Chu Zihang said.

“Huh?!” Lao Lu feigned surprise: “So you noticed I’ve been missing your gaze? Come here, little brother, give me a hug.”

“Uh, never mind,” Lao Lu, seeing Su Lin’s strange look, restrained himself.

“In some worlds, you wouldn’t…” Su Lin couldn’t help asking.

He strongly suspected this old dragon had once played the “transformation and marriage” game in some timeline.

“I’ve been straight for a million years!”

“Oh.”

Chu Zihang asked Lao Lu: “Why are you here?”

“We came to wake up Yemengjia,” Lao Lu said.

He snapped his fingers; the surrounding space began to violently shake and ripple.

Before Chu Zihang could react, they suddenly appeared on a school playground.

Sunset light bathed the campus; in the golden autumn, red maple leaves drifted down in the wind.

“Shilan Middle School?” Chu Zihang stared, puzzled.

Lao Lu pointed toward the basketball court. Everyone looked.

There, a young Chu Zihang was playing basketball; on the spectator seats sat a girl.

Chu Zihang couldn’t believe it—he had already killed that girl, this dragon king—he remembered the blade slicing through her scales, piercing her heart, the cold scales, the scorching blood, and…

That face in his memory.

Sunset light bathed the spectator seats, staining the world red. A girl sat on a plastic chair, wearing a high-neck wool sweater, a school skirt, and brown women’s leather boots. She gazed quietly at Chu Zihang, smiling like a blooming flower.

“I didn’t expect you’d come back to life, Nortong,” Yemengjia smiled, her white, lotus-like arm resting on her thigh, chin propped on her palm. “Senior Brother Lu, you’ve made it big and still remembered little sister me—how touching.”

“I am your father,” Lao Lu recited.

Yemengjia’s expression froze, her face turning awkward.

“Is this guy your husband?” Lao Tang glanced at Yemengjia, then pointed at Chu Zihang. “You’re eating old grass, huh?”

Yemengjia’s face darkened. She gave Chu Zihang a cold glance and said indifferently:

“He created a girl named Xia Mi. I was merely playing the role he invented to achieve my own goals.”

“Look at this human, trapping himself in illusory shadows, locked in that cage.”

“Too bad you showed up—otherwise, I would have crushed his consciousness one day and broken free from him.”

Her tone brimmed with mockery and arrogance: “You’re lucky, Brother Chu.”

Chu Zihang remained silent, merely staring at her.

Su Lin leaned close to Old Lu’s ear, feigning a whisper—but his voice carried clearly to everyone present: “I told you her mouth was harder than alchemical weapons, and you didn’t believe me. This guy doesn’t even know that tsundere went out of style in 2023.”

Old Lu covered his mouth with his hand, glancing at Yemengjiade, and said: “Understand—she’s fooling even herself; she has to be even tougher in front of outsiders, or she’ll lose face.”

Su Lin shook his head: “Teacher Big Ye responds well to the ‘play hard to get’ tactic.”

He pulled a book out of the historical projection.

Su Lin opened the book and showed it to Old Lu: “Look at this passage—it just said she wouldn’t board his ship, and now this passage claims we’re all on the same boat.”

Old Tang also curiously leaned over.

The three of them rustled through the book, Old Tang’s expressive eyebrows twitching constantly, occasionally lifting his head to gaze at Yemengjiade with pity and mockery.

The mental world was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

Tokyo time, 11 p.m.

An emergency meeting was convened.

“Chu Zihang has gone missing,” Angre said to Lu Mingze. “And we’ve just confirmed: the Earth and Mountain Dragon King, Yemengjiade, has awakened. Our scouts saw her on that floating island.”

“Probably my sister lured him away. Minor issue—don’t interrupt my bar-hopping.” Pangbei rose to leave, but Chu Tianjiao blocked him.

“Explain yourself!” Chu Tianjiao glared fiercely at Pangbei.

He had only just escaped control not long ago—barely one day away from reuniting with his son—and now his son was gone, linked to the awakened Earth and Mountain Dragon King?!

Like Angre, sitting at the same table as the Dragon King didn’t mean he’d abandoned past grievances and hatred—it was merely to face a stronger enemy.

In truth, the world was changing too fast; he couldn’t even summon the will to fight that Supreme Being. The promises it made suited his tastes perfectly.

But that’s how work is—even if you hate it, you still have to do it.

“Why did she take my son?!” Chu Tianjiao suppressed his unease—he cared only for his ex-wife and son.

“Why? Whyyyy?” Pangbei sneered twice: “Who in the Cassell Academy doesn’t know she’s your son’s girlfriend?”

“You didn’t know your son was dating a Dragon King? Otherwise, how do you think he could’ve killed her on his own merit?”

Like a thunderclap, he stared blankly at Angre.

Angre hesitated, then nodded.

This kid is that wild?!

“So,” Yuan Zhisheng said to the Cassell Academy members, “the three special envoys you sent to the branch are, respectively, an incomplete Supreme, the Dragon King’s boyfriend, and the Dragon King’s son?”

“It’s a coincidence,” Angre said sincerely.

The Snake Clan’s backs prickled with cold sweat.

These weren’t inspectors—they were essentially delivering three nuclear bombs to this place.