Chapter 272

Zhao Xing opened his eyes, his finger still touching the deactivated transparent panel. That faint light had shrunk to a tiny point, like a star refusing to go out. He slowly withdrew his hand, the warm sensation in his palm still lingering.

Zhao Chen sat in his wheelchair, staring at the interface at the bottom of the equipment. The electric wire was broken, but just then he heard a sound—not coming through his ears, but appearing directly in his mind as three words: "Don't shut it down."

"It doesn't want to be shut down." Zhao Chen looked up and said.

Zhao Yang stood between her brothers, both hands gripping the hem of her clothes. She didn't speak, but she tapped the tip of her foot twice on the ground—their childhood signal meaning "I understand."

Just then, footsteps came from outside the door, neither hurried nor slow, stopping at the laboratory door. The door pushed open, and He Yushui walked in holding a tablet. She wore a faded work coat, her hair a little messy, as if she had just run over.

"It works." She said, "The Metaverse Siheyuan is now online."

The triplets turned their heads to look at her.

"I used the Data Stream from the day you fixed the wiring as the base, and added the stability protocol left by Uncle Jia." He Yushui placed the tablet on the table; the screen lit up, showing a three‑dimensional model. "Now people can come in and take a look."

"Who will look?" Zhao Xing asked.

"The first batch is a hundred people who signed up, including elders and children." He Yushui swiped the screen, "They're wearing lightweight headsets, so they won't feel dizzy or tired. I just… want them to see what our place looks like."

Zhao Yang leaned in to look at the screen. The image showed the courtyard of the Siheyuan, the old locust tree swaying in the wind, leaves rustling. The kitchen window was open, the aroma of food drifting out. A cat crouched on the wall, its tail swaying back and forth.

"I took this yesterday at noon." He Yushui said.

Zhao Xing didn't move. He knew this wasn't an ordinary recording. It was alive.

He Yushui lifted her head, "Do you want to go in and show them around?"

The three exchanged a glance. Zhao Chen nodded.

He Yushui pressed the start button.

A flash of light before their eyes.

When they opened their eyes again, they stood in the virtual courtyard. The ground was paved with blue bricks, with a bit of green moss growing in the cracks. The air carried a faint smell of coal stove, along with the sunshine scent of airing bedding.

"They're here!" Zhao Yang pointed at the entrance.

A group of translucent figures appeared one after another, visitors wearing headsets walking in one by one. Some lowered their heads to look at their feet, discovering they could step into the brick gaps; others reached out to touch the wall, feeling its rough texture.

"Oh my, this is exactly like our home used to be!" a white‑haired elderly woman suddenly exclaimed, her voice trembling, "That jar—the one for pickled vegetables—how could even the cracks be the same?"

The young person beside her supported her, "Grandma, please don't get upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm happy!" the elderly woman wiped the corner of her eye, "I thought I'd forgotten, but it's all here."

The visitors began to move. Some went to the kitchen to look at the stove; others crouched to watch ants relocating. A little boy ran to the well, tried to crank the pulley, and it actually creaked.

"Does it really work?" he shouted back.

"Of course." Zhao Yang walked over, "Give it a bit more strength."

The boy pulled hard, and the bucket really rose up, water splashing onto his shoes. He froze, then burst out laughing.

"Me too!" others gathered around.

Zhao Xing watched the crowd, slowly walking to the eaves. He raised his hand and traced, and an image appeared on the wall: a rainy day, two people holding umbrellas walking down the alley, the umbrella tilted to one side to give the other more space.

A young person stopped.

"These are my parents." he said.

No one responded. Everyone fell silent.

Zhao Xing lowered his hand, the image vanished. He looked in another direction and said softly, "This is my father's laboratory, this is my mother's garden."

The visitors followed his gaze. In the virtual space, everything was clear and visible.

"You three are…?" someone asked.

"We live here." Zhao Chen sat in his wheelchair, looked up and smiled, "And we're also your guides."

"Can others come in here too?" someone wondered.

"Yes." Zhao Yang said, "In the future everyone can build their own digital cottage."

"Then I want to build a winter one." a little girl raised her hand, "When it snows, I and my grandfather make a snowman together."

"All right." Zhao Yang nodded, "Then I'll help you find a carrot for the nose."

Everyone laughed.

He Yushui stood before the control console, watching the user count jump. Ninety‑nine thousand nine hundred ninety‑seven, ninety‑eight, ninety‑nine…

One million.

A system prompt popped up: 【Metaverse users exceed one million, reward 【Virtual Economy Specialization】】

Before he could react, a red light flashed in the lower‑right corner of the screen, so brief it was almost invisible. He opened the log and found an anomalous entry: unauthorized script injection, source unknown, automatically isolated.

"Something got in." he said.

Zhao Chen immediately turned his wheelchair to another machine, pulled up the data stream chart. In it he saw a segment of code shaped like a twisting vine, lying still, neither moving nor disappearing.

"It isn't moving." Zhao Chen said, "but it's awake."

Zhao Yang leaned in, looked for two seconds, "Don't touch it."

"I know." Zhao Chen didn't move his hand, "I'm waiting for it to act."

He Yushui glanced at the main screen; visitors were still touring. An elderly man sat on the virtual threshold, pulling his granddaughter close as he told the story of who married whom and who moved away years ago. The scene was warm, laughter continuous.

"Let's not interrupt." he said, "Let them finish watching."

Zhao Xing remained standing in the courtyard's center. He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking. He knew that faint light was still flickering on the equipment in reality, and he also knew that the silhouette in the wasteland world might be gazing in the same direction.

He silently repeated to himself, "Don't look for her."

There was no reply in his mind.

But he felt a change. The signal that had forcibly broken in was now blocked. A new encryption layer had been generated, driven by him.

"All right." He opened his eyes, "Temporarily safe."

He Yushui exhaled in relief, "Today counts as a success."

"It's not over." Zhao Chen stared at the screen, "It left footprints."

"Who?"

"I don't know." Zhao Chen enlarged that segment of code, "But it remembered our structure. Next time they come, they won't just take a look."

He Yushui fell silent for a moment, then turned on the broadcast system.

"Friends," she said in a calm voice, "Thank you for coming to the Metaverse Siheyuan. The experience is about to end; please slowly take off your equipment and return to reality."

The visitors waved goodbye reluctantly. Some said "Thank you" to the air; others took photos as souvenirs. After the last figure disappeared, the whole virtual space fell silent.

Only the triplets remained standing in place.

"Shall we shut it down?" Zhao Yang asked.

"No." Zhao Xing looked at the empty courtyard, "Leave it on."

"Why?"

"Because." Zhao Xing pointed at the sky.

In the virtual sky, amid the originally clear clouds, a thin line appeared. Very faint, as if someone had scratched the screen with a fingernail. It didn't move or spread; it just hung there.

Zhao Chen pushed the wheelchair forward a step, "It's watching us."

Zhao Yang grabbed the hands of his two older brothers.

He Yushui stood behind the control console, her finger hovering over the shut-off key, but she didn't press it.

The user count on the screen dropped to zero.

That thin line was still there.