Chapter 22: Cherish Time
On the Star Network, a single headline dominated the number one trending spot.
[The first large-scale holographic online game, “Ancient,” meticulously crafted by the Number One Gaming Company, is about to launch! Closed beta registration is now open! @Stay tuned!]
When netizens saw the explosive news sitting at the top of the trending charts, they eagerly clicked the link to join in on the hype. However, they found a sparse landing page displaying nothing but the official server online time. Frustrated by the lack of details, the community immediately erupted into a frenzy of speculation.
Did the Number One Gaming Company buy their way to the top of the trending algorithm? They’ve released countless holographic games over the last few years, and they still have the nerve to brag about this being the “first” one?!
[User A]: To be fair, this actually is the first time the Number One Gaming Company has independently developed a large-scale holographic MMORPG. Technically, the headline is correct!
[User B]: I wonder what the setting is? Please don’t tell me it’s yet another interstellar exploration or sci-fi war game. I am utterly exhausted by those tropes!
[User C]: I heard a rumor that this game is fundamentally different from their previous titles. It’s allegedly built entirely on data recovered from ancient planets excavated by historians. Everything from the architecture to the wildlife is strictly prehistoric!
[User D]: Is the person above me a paid corporate shill? Do you have any idea how much historical data you’d need to sift through to build an entire world from scratch?! We modern humans can barely decipher half of the artifacts we find, let alone render them into a functional holographic matrix. The sheer data volume required would be astronomical… Also, I am a verified history major at Capital University! For the record, there were no ‘star beasts’ in ancient times—only regular wild beasts!
Regarding the company’s bold claim that the virtual world was reconstructed from genuine historical records of ancient civilizations, the public reaction was heavily divided. Some eagerly anticipated the launch, others couldn’t care less, and a vocal minority dismissed it with utter cynicism.
Yet, despite the controversy, Ancient was an undeniable phenomenon.
Virtually every citizen across the interstellar federation had heard of the game, and millions swarmed the registration portal to compete for a spot.
Securing a closed beta slot carried a massive perk: the company wouldn’t reclaim the hardware after the testing period concluded! Once the game officially launched to the public, beta participants could continue playing for free using their premium testing cabins.
Driven by the desire to bypass the steep retail cost, citizens aggressively fought for a position—even when the application required them to submit a mandatory 100,000-word post-test evaluation. After all, purchasing a luxury gaming cabin out of pocket cost several million star credits, a price tag far beyond the reach of the average consumer.
Meanwhile, inside the Number One Gaming Company headquarters, the Research and Development department was trapped in a state of absolute chaos.
“Hurry it up! I can’t believe we forgot to adjust the time flow! If the server runs on a strict one-to-one ratio with reality, players who work during the day won’t ever get to experience daylight in-game!” the president bellowed, his face dark with fury. “Thank goodness the closed beta cabins haven’t been shipped out yet. If the public discovered an oversight that massive after delivery, our firm would become the laughingstock of the entire tech industry!”
Sweat poured down the R&D manager’s face as he scrambled to put out fires. One second he was bowing frantically to apologize to the president, and the next he was sprinting across the floor to micromanage his subordinates’ diagnostic logs. He devoutly wished he possessed three heads and six arms to survive the shift.
Bizarre.
It was truly, profoundly bizarre!
Although the rest of the village didn’t seem to notice a thing and continued to go about their daily routines as usual, Lu Yunxi could clearly tell that something was deeply wrong with reality.
In her previous life, she had been a pragmatic realist who never would have questioned the linear flow of time. But ever since she had reincarnated into this strange, spiritually-depleted fantasy world, she had learned to accept the existence of the supernatural.
For instance, the terrifying realization that time itself could accelerate.
Inside her home, Yunxi sat quietly, staring at the training logs in her hands with utter confusion. Lately, she had made it a strict habit to write down a detailed summary of her physical drills at the end of every day before depositing the parchment safely into her spatial dimension.
Following her intervention in Daya’s crisis, she had logged exactly twenty-nine days of training. Yesterday was day twenty-nine; today was supposed to be day thirty.
Yet, when she spoke to the neighbors this morning, they casually mentioned that a full two months had flown by since the Li family scandal!
At first, a wave of paranoid doubt had consumed her. Had she somehow slept through a two-month coma? Were the villagers playing a coordinated psychological prank on her? Was she suffering from a severe case of amnesia?
But today, she obtained definitive proof that the malfunction didn’t lie with her memory—it was a glitch in the fabric of time itself.
She bolted out to the courtyard and looked up at the sky.
When she first stepped outside, the pale light of dawn was just breaking over the peaks. But by the time she walked to the center of the yard, the sun suddenly flared with scorching, midday heat. She kept her eyes glued to the heavens, watching in real-time as the azure sky darkened into a deep twilight, until a canopy of brilliant stars began to twinkle in the night sky.
Lu Yunxi: …
In the span of less than three minutes, the sun had risen, hit its zenith, and set into complete darkness. This terrifying display was the exact reason she had abandoned her plans to hunt on the mountain today. One look at the heavens was enough to confirm she hadn’t lost her mind.
As she stood frozen in a daze, the darkness broke, and dawn began to fracture the horizon once more.
Staring at the sun violently rubberbanding across the sky, she pressed a palm to her forehead in sheer speechless exhaustion. She turned on her heel and retreated back indoors—out of sight, out of mind.
Accessing her spatial bracelet, she began methodically reviewing the personal journals left behind by her ancestors, desperately searching for any historical precedent of time acceleration. This ancient world truly defied logic! Even if its magic had withered centuries ago, the fact that the temporal flow could fluctuate so wildly was terrifying.
She just didn’t know what kind of impact it would have on her own life.
Watching the chaotic strobe light of day and night flickering through the windows, she withdrew her gaze, ate a quick meal, and crawled into bed. Faced with a cosmic anomaly of this scale, she was entirely powerless. There was nothing left to do but sleep it off. If the timeline was still malfunctioning when she woke up, she would simply have to figure out a way to adapt.
When her eyes finally fluttered open again, Yunxi glanced toward the window and found that the sky had finally stabilized into a normal, steady morning light. A surge of profound relief washed over her, and she felt like leaping for joy.
Phew!
Thank goodness she hadn’t wasted her entire night brainstorming survival strategies for a hyper-accelerated world, otherwise she would have squandered her mental energy for nothing. Everything was perfectly back to normal today.
Humming a happy tune, Yunxi finished her breakfast, gathered her bow and arrows, and prepared to head out. But the moment she swung her front door open, she found Grandma Li standing right on her threshold.
She flinched backward, clutching her chest. “My goodness… you scared me! Grandma Li, what brings you over so early?”
Remembering how much the elderly woman had looked after her over the years, Yunxi quickly pushed her shock aside and politely ushered her into the living room.
“Please, Grandma Li, sit and have some tea.” Fortunately, she had diligently mastered the art of tea preparation back when her mother was alive; otherwise, she wouldn’t have a clue how to properly entertain a guest today. “Is there something urgent you needed to discuss…?”
Grandma Li observed her poised demeanor, giving a soft, approving nod of maternal pride.
“Xiaoxi, your dear parents were always incredibly helpful to our family when they were still with us. Now that you’re on your own, it’s my turn to look after you!” Grandma Li gently took her hand, patting the back of her palm with a warm, doting expression.
A sudden, deep sense of foreboding flared in Yunxi’s gut. The elderly woman’s radiant smile perfectly mirrored the exact expressions of her modern relatives whenever they were about to aggressively pressure her into blind dates.
Is this an illusion? she thought, a cold sweat breaking out.
“I came by today to quietly gauge your thoughts first,” Grandma Li murmured, leaning in close to whisper conspiratorially. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on a future husband?”
Lu Yunxi: …
I have no thoughts at all!
“Grandma Li, I am still far too young! Why on earth would I be rushing to find—”
Before she could finish her protest, Grandma Li cut her off, shaking her head in stern disapproval.
“Child, you simply don’t understand the ways of the world yet! You’re already fourteen years old; most girls your age have been courting for a long time now. When you turned eleven, you pleaded that you were too young and wanted to focus on playing at home, so I let you be. But you are fourteen now! Naturally, it is time to start looking. Just tell me what kind of boy you like, and this old lady will do everything in her power to find him for you!”
“Fourteen years old?!” Yunxi completely tuned out the matchmaking babble. The number hit her like a lightning bolt, causing her to jump up in absolute shock. “Grandma Li, you must be mistaken. How could I possibly be fourteen? I’m pretty sure I’m not even twelve!”
“Xiaoxi, have you been spending too much time alone in this big house? You’ve managed to forget your own age!” Grandma Li looked at her with deep, maternal concern. “You share the exact same birth year as our Dabao and Daya. How could I possibly make a mistake about that? In fact, I’m planning to start scouting matches for them soon, too!”
Seeing the elderly woman staring at her as if she had lost her mind, Yunxi’s eyelid twitched violently. Yet, Grandma Li spoke with absolute, unshakable certainty.
A wave of intense vertigo washed over her.
In other words… during my sleep last night, while the sun and moon were violently spinning across the sky, a full three years actually evaporated in a flash?! Is that… really possible?
Clinging to the last shred of denial, she casually offered a few noncommittal answers to placate Grandma Li, quickly escorted the old woman out the front gate, and pulled up her system user interface.
To her utter dismay, the numerical value listed in her age profile had indeed updated to 14!
Just perfect!
In her own mind, she had only just crossed the threshold of twelve, yet her physical body had suddenly been launched to fourteen overnight!
No wonder the elders always preached about cherishing time! It was a literal law of nature here. Three whole years had passed in the blink of an eye, and she hadn’t accomplished a single thing—she had literally slept right through them!
