Chapter 453: Claiming the Reward

"Hui Liyi, your birthday's coming up—I'll buy you a bag?"

"Waste money? No waste— we're not short on cash! Didn't I tell you before? That hot, money-burning IP movie everyone's talking about? I wrote the screenplay—it's hundreds of hours long."

"Save money… let's just eat meals together from now on. Don't be mad—I promise I won't spend recklessly, okay? Love you. See you tomorrow."

Gao Moumou put down his phone, feeling as if he'd swallowed a Haagen-Dazs flavored with happiness—its silken, sweet taste spreading from his mouth through his entire body.

With a girlfriend like this, his life had already left the group of single dogs and lickspittles ten thousand miles behind, arriving straight at the final station—only needing to meet the Buddha to achieve perfection.

"Though writing that screenplay cost me a few years of life, and left my spirit a bit fractured, it doesn't matter."

Gao Moumou turned on the gas stove, took out a bag of braised beef-flavored instant noodles, smashed it with one punch, and tossed it into the trash; then he pulled out a pack of old-pickled-vegetable beef-flavored instant noodles.

"The payment was generous. Thank you, Shu Hang. Go to hell."

"Now, I can finally enjoy a quiet, ordinary, perfectly plain happy life—hahaha~~~."

The instant noodles had barely been in the hot water for ten seconds when Gao Moumou turned off the gas stove, picked up the small milk pot, and walked straight to the living room to sit on the sofa and pick up his chopsticks.

He loved eating instant noodles with a slight crisp texture—the time it took to walk from kitchen to living room kept them perfectly springy.

"Hui Liyi isn't here—so quiet." Gao Moumou took a bite of noodles, turned on the TV, and planned to find some news channel to eat with.

As a qualified web novel author, he regularly updated himself on current events to avoid falling out of touch with society.

"Mars live?"

Gao Moumou glanced at the subtitles, confirmed it was the TV science and education channel, and didn't change the channel—just watched casually; if he didn't eat soon, the noodles would turn soggy.

Slurp~

Slurp~

He ate two bites of noodles and drank some broth. For some reason, was this channel silent?

"Hello, viewers."

"We previously saw Gundam use a chokehold on Unit-01, Erlang Shen successfully kicked Feitianquan away, Iron Man rescued an ordinary person and a cultivator who used Ten Thousand Swords Return to Save a Magical Girl—do they get along? Are they a couple?"

"We're verifying these details with the NSA. I hope I'm not insane. In any case, Mars has returned to normal."

What the hell is this talking about? Is the host insane?

Gao Moumou set down his bowl and chopsticks in bewilderment. On the TV screen's black-and-white footage, Mars' desert landscape was pockmarked with craters like the Moon.

The broken Unit-01 lay quietly there, as if after a great battle—dusk's glow, scarred and battered—the black-and-white image frozen in place.

You call this normal?!

Mars? Unit-01? Are you kidding me?

Gao Moumou held his bowl, staring at the frozen image on the TV, wondering if he'd accidentally switched channels.

But luckily, since returning from filming his last movie, his heart had grown stronger—he no longer reacted emotionally to ordinary things.

"Probably some overseas prank. I'll check online to see what's going on."

I wonder if this has spread yet—someone faked a video, and the TV station staff are way too careless.

"We're verifying these details with the NSA. Please hold on—I hope I'm not insane."

Verifying with the NSA? Bro, you—

As Gao Moumou complained, he opened his phone browser—and saw a full screen of trending topics.

【BREAKING! Curiosity Rover Sends Shocking Footage! Cultivators on Mars.】

Gao Moumou immediately clicked the trending topic—and saw a stream of black-and-white footage, with a flood of live comments.

"I just saw a bunch of gods driving tractors on Mars?"

"Iron Man's here—where are the rest of DC?"

"Iron Man's Marvel, idiot."

"YouTube and Twitter have confirmed it—all national TV stations are broadcasting the same thing!"

"My friend works at Bandai—just now, Japanese police came in and sealed off the company. He just told me they're starting to confiscate phones."

"Nonsense. This is definitely a hacker prank—I work at Marvel and nothing's happened. Never mind, there's some commotion downstairs—I'm going to check it out."

"This does seem unscientific—if it's real, wouldn't the live stream have been cut already?"

"Why do some of these people look familiar? They look like characters from movie trailers I've seen."

Only then did Gao Moumou realize his class group and author group were exploding with chatter about this.

"Two people just got off Unit-01?!"

Hearing the host's voice, Gao Moumou turned his attention back to the live feed.

Before the Mars rover stood a disheveled young man in a loose shirt, holding the hand of a girl dressed as a shrine maiden—even in black-and-white, her face radiated angelic beauty.

"Not Ayanami Rei?" the host said, surprised.

The young man looked troubled, waved at the girl, and she suddenly held an oil-based pen and a small notebook, as if writing something.

"I think I've seen this guy before," Gao Moumou muttered.

On screen, the shrine maiden turned the notebook around, facing the camera—written in Chinese characters: 【Lu Mingfei and Hui Liyi were here. ^_^】

So it's not Shinji Ikari and Ayanami Rei.

"."

Lu Mingfei???

Hui Liyi???

Are you kidding me?

On screen, Lu Mingfei looked at Hui Liyi with a mix of helplessness and affection, took the notebook from her curious hands, flipped to a fresh page, and scribbled a few words.

He turned it toward the camera—【Wishing Jiang Nan and Herzog a lifetime of happiness.】

This time, even the TV had no sound. Gao Moumou opened WeChat and called Song Shuhang.

"No answer"

He was certain this man was the actor portraying Lu Mingfei.

"What's going on?"

While the host on the TV channel remained silent, the internet had exploded.

After a flood of question marks across the screen, in a high-end residential area of Earth's capital, a businessman's phone rang incessantly.

After his shower, he put on a robe and glasses, staring at the dozen missed calls on his phone, dazed; before he could even wonder what was happening, the doorbell began ringing nonstop.

"Who is it?"

"Your delivery!"

Can deliveries even enter this neighborhood? No, I didn't order anything.

Gao Moumou tried calling Song Shuhang but got no answer, and Master Tanyun was also unreachable; baffled, he sat on the sofa and kept watching the livestream.

But it was already clear: everything shown above was fake, yet the production team didn't even invite him for the second movie—this was just too infuriating.

Exciting!

After a while, the girl portraying Hui Liyi had flown away, leaving only the actor portraying Lu Mingfei wandering nearby; strange phenomena occasionally appeared in the sky, and the visual effects were absolutely perfect.

"I wonder which screenwriter got so unlucky," Gao Moumou said, watching the TV.

No sooner had he spoken than the screen shook violently, and the camera seemed to have flown an impossibly great distance.

A tall figure leapt down from above, turned his head—and revealed a distinctly East Asian face, one that looked unmistakably kind.

"It really is you, my dear friend," Gao Moumou said, still surprised. "Mr. Su really is a big boss."

Gao Moumou saw Song Shuhang's expression on screen suddenly turn to terror; static flickered across the image, then the screen went completely black.

This must be the end of the promotional ad.

The cost of this marketing campaign must have been enormous; the first movie had just premiered, and the box office for this hundred-hour film couldn't yet be estimated, yet they'd already bought a new IP and launched a global advertising campaign.

This isn't bad—I'm one of the screenwriters of the first movie, so I'll get some fame from this too.

Ding dong—

"Who is it?" Gao Moumou asked, puzzled, walking toward the door.

"We're from the property committee—your downstairs neighbor is leaking water."

"It's already been handled, rest assured—the modern cultivator community has ample protocols for such matters."

Huangshan Zhenjun looked at Su Lin and the others, speaking apologetically: "It was our fault for failing to eliminate unstable factors before the event."

"Nonsense," Su Lin said, pressing down on Lu Mingfei's head, politely replying: "My unworthy child has caused you trouble."

Lu Mingfei suddenly exploded, wrenching free of Su Lin's hand, gritting his teeth: "Su! Are you trying to take advantage of me?!"

Bang!

Lu Mingfei clutched his forehead in pain as Kleine calmly retracted his cane:

"You specifically went to the Mars rover just to show your face and caused trouble for ordinary people."

"Hey," Lu Mingfei grabbed Kleine's collar, smiling sweetly: "Talk all you want, but why did you hit me on the head?"

"Let's see if your head's empty."

Huangshan Zhenjun, sensing the atmosphere turning sour, quickly stepped in to defuse it:

"Actually, this ties in perfectly with the previous movie—we've publicly claimed it was some movie-obsessed hacker group that stole the footage and hacked into the space agency to interfere with the broadcast."

Cultivator factions won't interfere with normal human societal development, but the accumulated power they've built over millennia is beyond imagination.

Bai Zunzhe and other cultivators with extensive Western connections intervened, and after a little maneuvering, the matter was quickly resolved.

After all, compared to Iron Man, Gundam, True Dragons, Yang Erlang, or Magical Girls battling on Mars, a classic hacker incident is far easier for people to accept.

"To explain certain implausible elements, the movie has now been rebranded as a super cultural IP jointly backed by multinational capital; as compensation, a portion of the box office revenue will be distributed to those or corporations involved in this incident."

Huangshan Zhenjun paused, then looked at Song Shuhang: "Shuhang, this incident has had some impact on you and that young friend Gao."

"Mmmmm, mmmmm."

"Sorry, you're wearing a hazmat suit—I can't understand what you're trying to say."

Before them, Song Shuhang wore a thick hazmat suit, glowing faintly green amid the dark, dense forest of the island.

"He means he doesn't mind himself, but hopes it won't affect Gao Moumou," Su Lin said, reading the chat group's text aloud. "By the way, could you seniors help me remove the radiation?"

Bai Zunzhe smiled slightly and explained:

"Shuhang, you've already been resurrected once. Though you're a fourth-rank cultivator, your actual physical strength and cultivation far surpass that of a normal fourth-rank cultivator—these residual radiations pose no real threat to you; instead, they'll strengthen your innate Qi recovery."

"Woof! Cheer up, Shuhang!" King Dou Dou patted Song Shuhang's hazmat suit, then disgustedly wiped his paw. "You've only died once—be grateful. You've still got so many resurrection artifacts left unused."

"I'm King Dou Dou—I nearly got killed by Huangshan Da Sha, and I didn't even have a resurrection artifact!"

Huangshan Zhenjun shook his head; King Dou Dou was too insensitive to Song Shuhang's feelings. How could any normal cultivator be cheerful after dying from a nuclear reactor explosion?

"That's true," Song Shuhang nodded. "This is a small step—but also a giant leap toward changing fate!"

"That's true," Song Shuhang nodded. "This is a small step, but also a giant leap toward changing fate!"

Has King Dou Dou broken Song Shuhang's mind?

Clearly, King Dou Dou has been putting too much pressure on Song Shuhang.

He's struggling to handle Bai Zunzhe's charm while also dealing with King Dou Dou's reckless antics.

"Sigh," Huangshan Zhenjun sighed, putting a collar on King Dou Dou. "I've got some matters to attend to with King Dou Dou. You all chat on."

Huangshan Zhenjun departed, pondering whether he should marry off King Dou Dou.

"As for the remaining prizes, apart from those who placed, distribute them equally among all contestants," Bai Zunzhe said to Su Lin.

"Fine," Su Lin nodded. "But there won't be much—let them pick one ordinary-level cultivation technique from my library as a participation reward."

The top ten are full, and barely any of the next forty remain—it's just that the final opponent, the limitless monster, was too terrifying, leaving almost no leading contestant untouched.

"Then let me thank all the contestants on behalf of the participants, Brother Su," Bai Zunzhe chuckled. "Afterward, I'll also take all the contestants to one of my collected Mystical Realms."

"Then I shall thank Friend Su on behalf of all the competitors," Bai Zunzhe chuckled. "Afterward, I will also lead all the competitors to the Mystical Realm I have collected."

Distributing those resources among such a vast number of contestants brings little benefit; only Comrade Su Lin is so extravagant as to treat knowledge not as a resource, generously imparting it to other cultivators.

In the cultivator world of this realm, Su Lin's reputation is currently unmatched.

In the previous two simulated universes, as long as one was not a demonic cultivator, even lone cultivators could enter after passing the assessment and ultimately obtain the complete Dao art, offering hope to those with no path to cultivation or extreme hardship.

"Mmmmmm"

"Wuwen, you can write your words using a projection." Bai Zunzhe reminded him.

【Senior Bai, I wanted to ask you earlier—this Hand Tractor Competition seems rather casual; you haven't set any mandatory rules.】

"My original intention was simply to invite you all here to have fun," Bai Zunzhe said contentedly:

"With so many reclusive cultivators and beings from countless worlds present, I thought it better to add more variables than to hold a competition whose outcome was already known—enjoyment matters most."

Su Lin's eyes flashed with sharp brilliance as he smiled: "Then, White Zunzhe, are you enjoying this Hand Tractor Competition?"

"Very much so, but it's not perfect," Bai Zunzhe said with regret. "I should have joined the competition myself. Next time, I must participate personally."

"There will be an opportunity," Su Lin agreed. "Come on, Wuwen, I'll take you to experience the Principle of Destruction."

"Senior Su Lin, you're not going to destroy me once just for the experience, are you?" Song Wuwen said warily, yet with a flicker of interest—he weighed whether exchanging it for resources might be better, but that was a Principle.

Su Lin gave him a strange look and replied, "How could I? I'm not some demon."

After all this time, doesn't Song Wuwen understand his own character yet? It's deeply saddening.

"Sorry, I overthought it," Song Wuwen exhaled in relief—apparently his passive talent had not activated this time.

That's right—reality is reality. Yes, just as other worlds have differences from the books, the settings described aren't necessarily entirely accurate.

They arrived around the contestants choosing to comprehend Principles.

"Senior Jiangshan, why are you here too?" Song Wuwen asked.

"The editor-in-chief was pleased with my commentary this time and gave me a choice: become chief editor of the West Siberian Cultivator Realm or be assigned as Senior Su Lin's exclusive interview correspondent," Jiangshan grinned happily:

"Fortunately, Senior Su Lin is reasonable—he said he admired my previous performance and will grant me a unique opportunity containing many Principles. Only after I gain something from it will we discuss the interview."

"." Song Wuwen stepped back half a pace, the words stuck in his throat: "You—"

"Hehe," Jiangshan pulled out a folding fan and grinned. "We cultivators must dare to be our true selves. Later, I'll also arrange an exclusive interview with the Demoness Young Lady."

He leaned slightly toward Song Wuwen's ear and whispered:

"Young Friend Wuwen, you're close to Senior Su Lin—do you have any exclusive news about Mr. Light and the Demoness Young Lady? Many Immortal Maidens are watching this. If you have any information, I'll pay handsomely."

Song Wuwen swallowed hard and suddenly felt cold. He glanced at Senior Su Lin, who had turned back casually—his smiling eyes seemed to gleam with something strange.

"Take it."

Jiangshan's face lit up instantly, yet his hand felt unnaturally heavy.

He looked down—it was a long string

of Resurrection Artifacts?

"It's yours, Senior Shanjiang."

"I'm Jiangshan."

"You'll be Shanjiang soon."

Leaving behind those cryptic words, Song Wuwen departed with a sigh with every step.

For the first time, he felt the ache of wanting to thank someone yet being unable to help them enough—if only he had a hundred times more Resurrection Artifacts.

I'm working overtime every day; update times are unstable.

Sigh… I'm just a workhorse too.

(End of Chapter)