Chapter 79

On the roof of a twenty-story residential building.

A man and a woman from the Executive Department of the Cassel Academy lay on a moss-covered concrete slab.

Su Lin sat on the rooftop railing, expressionless, watching the traffic below, his mind churning with thoughts.

He was thinking about a question.

If you could return to the past, everyone would spare no effort to leave no regrets.

But what if, upon returning to the past, you found another version of yourself—someone you cannot replace, and who will one day vanish?

What would you do?

You are merely a spectator, destined to pass through.

Yet you cannot help but want to join the performance, to alter scenes you dislike, snatch the director’s script, scribble over it; if the script is too poor, you’d tear it up and write your own preferred version.

“Everything you want.”

“Everything you care about.”

“Everything you’ve lost.”

Su Lin murmured to himself, legs dangling, heels rhythmically tapping the wall with a thump-thump sound.

It’s such a mood-killer—he couldn’t even finish his roast duck and had to pack it up and leave.

His conversation with Lu Mingze left him unsettled—not because of Lu Mingze himself, but because of the Lu Mingfei from a different future, one he had long ignored.

He’d assumed coming to Lu Mingfei’s world would be a casual harvest of points, a bit of chaos—never expecting to get tangled in this.

From his perspective, no matter what, Lu Mingfei’s current future is better than the original one.

If left to another version of himself, he’d inevitably live a happy life.

He could grow strong just by lying around, with a chat group as a cheat.

In other words, the pain of youth literature had already been crushed under the weight of the Dragon King’s urban tropes.

The only flaw is that the “lucky loser” who returned from the future has changed.

“He knows he is Lu Mingfei—but how many Lu Mingfeis is he?”

Lu Mingze wore an expression of disappointment, his eyes dimmed.

“He is not my brother.”

“He became me.”

“But he is not me.”

Su Lin recalled Lu Mingze’s expression when he said those words—the bright restaurant lights couldn’t illuminate the darkness within him, as if waiting for someone who had been gone a long time, only for that person to return, no longer the same as before.

“Wanting to give him every best scene in every script, letting him live a happier life in my place.”

Su Lin suddenly felt a strange familiarity about Old Lu—as if he’d seen him somewhere before. After much thought, he remembered.

It was from his childhood.

At the Lantern Festival fair on the hill behind his small county town, candied haws, lotus seed soup, zodiac sugar sculptures—vendors shouted their wares nonstop; the noisy atmosphere only deepened the festive end-of-year mood.

His parents carried him around, and he wanted this, he wanted that.

Children’s memories are fickle—when he saw something he wanted, he forgot the last time he’d been scolded and punished for his tantrums.

Unexpectedly, his parents bought it all.

He tasted each item first; if he didn’t like it, his parents finished it for him.

Back in elementary school, he didn’t understand why his parents had suddenly become so indulgent—anything he wanted, they bought.

“Linwa, are you happy today?” his mother asked, hugging him.

“Happy.”

He forgot what his expression had been then—probably a brilliant smile.

“Your dad and mom can only afford so much—today, let you be happy,” his father said, ruffling his hair. “If your dad had the means, I’d buy you a plane.”

“But your dad and mom can’t buy you a plane, or make you happy every day.”

“So you must study hard—strive to make yourself and your future children happy every day.”

His parents’ expressions had blurred in Su Lin’s memory; he only faintly remembered these words and the festive surroundings.

He once thought his father was just urging him to study hard and improve daily.

Later, when Su Lin started working and entered society, during idle moments he chatted with married colleagues and witnessed all kinds of things.

Only in his free time did he realize: his parents had wanted to give him the best, but were limited by reality, so they hoped he would become the ideal version of themselves.

Those tutoring classes, those criticisms...

They poured intense expectations onto their child, hoping those hopes would take root and let the child live a more brilliant, happier life in their stead.

Not all parents are like this—but only parents hold this mindset.

Su Lin’s vision is now excellent—he can clearly see every passerby on the street.

Parents picking up their children after school stood before fruit stalls, selecting the largest, most vibrant fruits from the mixed batch.

Old Lu... that guy is different from the future selves of Xiao Yan, Ye Fan, and Han Li.

To the current Lu Mingfei, Old Lu has become like a parent—or another Lu Mingze.

Whether the current Lu Mingfei wants it or not, he only wants to cram every best thing, every best plot, every best ending into his past self.

Su Lin couldn’t say exactly what was wrong, but he felt a heavy oppression.

“Sigh.”

Su Lin sighed. It wasn’t all bad—but the question was, after living a million years, how much of his values still resembled the current Lu Mingfei’s? It was a question Su Lin had never considered before.

Was what he thought best truly what the current Lu Mingfei would accept?

Especially that guy—he’d scattered so many incarnations across past worlds in the future, creating countless divergent timelines.

According to Lu Mingze, the birthday gifts he wanted to make up were too many—even the gift boxes alone could drown the current Lu Mingfei.

This guy now even ignores Lu Mingze’s advice; the only benefit might be humanity itself.

Because someone complained modern tech was too backward to satisfy his entertainment, he planned a leapfrog technological breakthrough.

Directly jumping to the Fifth Industrial Revolution.

“What a hassle. Maybe I should just cause a little chaos and head home.”

What does it have to do with me? After thinking it over, the worst that could happen is Lu Mingfei gets overwhelmed by all this “happiness”—it wouldn’t be too bad.

After all, who knows how much power the future Lu Mingfei still has? Better not meddle.

Su Lin thought for a while.

Whatever. No one said I can’t take benefits from both sides.

Wait for Lu Mingze’s reply.

“Hey, you two on the ground—awake yet?”

Su Lin spoke listlessly, not turning around, only gazing up at the night sky.

The city lights were too bright, drowning out the stars; all he could see was the moon, though there were no clouds tonight.

The two Cassel Academy execs, hearing this, abandoned their pretense of sleeping.

They realized their earpieces hadn’t been removed and still had signal.

Both tensely scrambled to their feet.

“If you attack me, I’ll break your arms. If you try to run, I’ll break your legs.”

“If you speak out of turn, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

To prevent unnecessary trouble, Su Lin delivered his warning plainly.

“Achoo!”

Su Lin suddenly sneezed—he was baffled. Even with a divine essence’s historical projection embedded, could he still sneeze?!

Who’s cursing me? Who’s ruining my vibe?