Chen Chen slowly sank back into an abyss. During the brief process of transmission, he reminisced about everything in the past.
He felt that he ought to cry, but when the moment of remembrance truly arrived, he still maintained a smile.
The transmission process did not last long before Chen Chen felt a sense of solid ground beneath him.
Yet a sharp, splitting pain followed immediately after. Chen Chen could feel that he was lying on the ground, his entire body surrounded by a piercing cold as if he were trapped inside an ice cellar. This body must have suffered injuries, and the pervasive pain nearly caused him to faint.
[126.] Chen Chen tentatively called out, yet this time 126 unexpectedly failed to respond right away.
Sensing that something was amiss, Chen Chen slowly propped himself up, intending to sit. He wore only a short-sleeved shirt and long trousers, which explained why he felt so cold.
When he finally sat up and took in the surrounding scenery, his emotions could no longer be described simply as surprise.
He had collapsed at the base of a massive tree that appeared to be roughly ten stories tall, looking entirely unlike anything that could possibly exist on Earth. The surroundings were humid, resembling a wild forest.
The ground beneath was damp, soft, and fertile, dotted with low grass and wildflowers. Forcing his eyelids open, Chen Chen gazed into the distance where trees of varying heights stretched out like a tropical rainforest. Fluttering among them were butterflies, or rather, things that shone with a crystalline brilliance.
They indeed possessed wings, yet their colors were dazzlingly vivid, and their entire bodies seemed to emit a soft glow.
Startled by the spectacle, Chen Chen helplessly licked his parched lips and turned his head toward the other side.
An abandoned spacecraft lay upon the ground over there. Judging from its exterior, it was indeed a spacecraft, relatively small in size, but it looked severely damaged.
We are completely doomed, Chen Chen thought. Has he been dropped straight onto another planet?
As he moved, he accidentally aggravated his wounds, plunging his vision into darkness with a wave of intense pain. Suddenly, the clear sound of a whistle drifted from deep within the forest.
The sound was long and piercingly clear, and something seemed to be stirring amidst the woods.
Startled, Chen Chen instinctively lay back down to resume playing dead.
Before long, Chen Chen heard footsteps drawing closer and closer. One, two… No! This did not sound like human footsteps at all.
The owners of the footsteps clearly possessed a definite sense of purpose, and Chen Chen could sense them closing in.
They finally came to a halt just two or three meters away from him.
Chen Chen heard voices speaking, yet he could not understand a single word of the language as a rapid flurry of syllables was exchanged.
While Chen Chen could not comprehend it, the original owner of this body clearly could.
“Is this it? He human…” one of the voices inquired.
Holding his breath, Chen Chen suddenly caught another voice speaking.
“Hmm injured, he non-aggressive…”
Chen Chen’s heart skipped a beat. The voice he heard was deep, mellow, and resonant, bearing the rich timbre of a cello.
As they continued conversing, Chen Chen could no longer suppress his curiosity and cautiously peered through narrowed eyes.
At that single glance, the breath Chen Chen had just drawn froze halfway inside his chest.
These were two figures, to describe them using Chen Chen’s frame of recognition, they were centaurs. Indeed, centaurs.
Standing nearly two meters tall, their upper bodies resembled those of humans with exposed, muscular chests. The skin on the right side was as white as snow, while the skin on the left side possessed a honeyed bronze tone.
Their lower bodies belonged to horses, possessing sleek, graceful physiques superior to any horse Chen Chen had ever seen. The centaur on the left had a black horse body and medium-long hair, though his features remained unclear for the moment.
However, Chen Chen’s gaze locked firmly onto the figure on the right. Everything about him was extraordinary: a cascade of long, silver hair draped down his shoulders, and his horse body was a snowy white that seemed to shimmer with light.
Having presumably reached a consensus, they fell silent, prompting Chen Chen to immediately cease his observation.
Silence returned, save for the whisper of the wind and the fragrance of flora drifting through the air. Chen Chen felt someone approach, carrying an aura as sharp and biting as the dead of winter, reminiscent of ice, snow, and frost.
A moment later, Chen Chen felt a pair of arms wrap around him.
His heart hammered frantically, threatening to break free from his ribcage.
He could perceive that it was the silver-haired centaur who had lifted him up. The centaur’s hands were icy, his arms powerful. Cradled bridal-style, Chen Chen felt the other’s chest pressed directly against his arm.
Chen Chen’s heart rate spun out of control as the chill in his body was gradually replaced by warmth. He caught the scent lingering on the other person, reminiscent of sweet fruit intertwined with the fragrance of trees and wildflowers.
“Are you certain? To hold him…” the companion beside them questioned.
The one holding him gave no response, and Chen Chen could feel them moving forward. Yet the throbbing of his wounds slowly crept back, draining away his meager energy, and Chen Chen drifted into unconsciousness once more.
When Chen Chen awoke again, he was no longer outdoors. He regained consciousness amidst a soft, comfortable warmth, catching the aroma of medicinal herbs while the pain throughout his body had noticeably subsided.
[Host, you are finally awake!]
It was 126.
[Where did you go?]
Following a brief silence as usual, 126 spilled everything, [Host, the main system summoned me away.]
Seeming to deliberate for a moment, 126 added, [Before transmitting the information, Host, there is something I wished to tell you.]
Lying down with his eyes closed to rest, Chen Chen replied, [Go ahead.]
[It is like this. The previous world nearly collapsed several times, which is why the main system called me away. Our system essentially extracts the consciousness of individuals who have already departed from the real world, grants them memories and distinct personalities, and lets them live out lives within these worlds. Once they eventually depart, the world is recycled. These worlds are all constructed using material drawn from human consciousness, reality, and fantasy.]
Chen Chen frowned. So that was how it worked? Could there be other people out there just like him?
[However, due to limited resources, whenever we cannot locate enough individual consciousnesses, we recruit living people from the real world to help us complete the world, acting as cannon fodder roles. Most people choose to forget everything and return to reality in the end, experiencing no lasting impact.]
[Yet you are very different, Host, and your presence exerted influence on the characters inside, which is why signs of world collapse began to appear.]
Remaining silent, Chen Chen processed this information internally.
Seeing that he said nothing, 126 continued, [To prevent such occurrences from happening again, the main system therefore…]
Chen Chen: [Therefore hoping I will avoid OOC behavior and complete the task swiftly?]
126 fell silent.
Finally opening his eyes without expressing agreement or objection, Chen Chen simply remarked, “I will give it careful consideration.”
[Come to think of it, you haven’t transmitted the background information to me yet, have you?] Chen Chen changed the subject. [Hurry up, 126, before someone comes in.]
[Oh, oh! Understood!] Scrambling into action, 126 transferred the data across.
This was a futuristic fantasy world where humanity’s activities were no longer confined to Earth as they began exploring the outer cosmos.
Decades prior, humanity had discovered this planet inhabited by centaurs.
Maintaining a relatively primitive lifestyle, they had lived in peace, untouched by worldly strife.
Yet human greed knows no bounds, and humanity sought to invade and conquer. A war between the two planets erupted three years ago, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides before coming to an abrupt and silent halt.
The two planets signed a treaty, establishing an immediate ceasefire. As for the reasons behind it, aside from top officials, no one knew.
The owner of Chen Chen’s current body was named An Rui, a linguist and biologist.
Naturally, someone so exceptional still occupied the role of cannon fodder, harboring an unrequited crush on a man named Zhou Qin, with whom he had traveled to this planet for biological research.
Unfortunately, the two had become separated during their respective journeys, and An Rui’s spacecraft had suffered a malfunction, leading to the situation Chen Chen had just encountered.
An Rui was indeed remarkably talented, serving as both a linguist and biologist. Long before the war, when he was just a teenager, he had visited this planet and studied the centaur language.
Zhou Qin was no less impressive, standing as a renowned biologist. At the same time, he shared a mutual affection with his childhood sweetheart, making the two of them the picture of a golden couple.
Good grief, Chen Chen was left speechless. The original host had actually fallen head over heels for a straight man whose heart already belonged to someone else.
This romance was destined to be a tragedy.
Their joint expedition this time was intended for biological research. Ever since signing the peace treaty, the two planets had maintained friendly exchanges through mutual personnel deployments.
This trip included both An Rui and Zhou Qin, though An Rui had fought hard to secure this opportunity himself. Since Zhou Qin was scheduled to get engaged upon their return, An Rui was likely giving himself one final chance.
Reviewing these details mentally, Chen Chen let out a silent sigh.
[Ding-dong, Host, your primary task is to locate Zhou Qin and rendezvous with him.]
The task arrived promptly enough. Unsurprised, Chen Chen nodded in acceptance.
At that moment, sounds drifted from outside the door. Chen Chen slowly sat up to find that the visitor entering the room was one of the centaurs who had rescued him.
Chen Chen mentally designated him as “Little Black.”
Catching sight of Chen Chen awake, Little Black looked rather surprised and muttered something Chen Chen recognized as meaning, “You woke up so quickly.”
Approaching the bed, Little Black tapped the injuries on Chen Chen’s forehead and arm before speaking in halting, broken phrases, “Mind the wound, infection, do not.”
Amused by his accent, Chen Chen nodded and offered a soft “Understood.”
Inspecting the wounds on Chen Chen’s body further, Little Black picked up a bowl of herbal medicine that had been simmering nearby and handed it over. Catching the potent, heavy scent, Chen Chen hesitated with visible reluctance.
Yet he ultimately pinched his nose and swallowed it down.
Though the herbal brew tasted bitter, it left behind a lingering sweetness. Handing the empty bowl back to Little Black, Chen Chen pondered for a moment before asking in their language, “What is your name?”
Startled by the fluent query, Little Black stared at him in astonishment for a long beat, muttering suspiciously to himself.
He then answered Chen Chen, “Alistair.”
Switching to human speech, Little Black listened as Chen Chen repeated the name softly to himself, feeling a sudden surge of curiosity about the silver-haired centaur’s name.
Having finished tidying up, Little Black, or rather Alistair, informed Chen Chen that the chieftain wished to see him and prepared to escort him out.
Nodding in agreement, Chen Chen recalled that meeting the chieftain was part of their original agenda upon arriving here anyway, and he could take the opportunity to ask for assistance in locating Zhou Qin.
Walking along slowly, Alistair, who appeared rather young, hopped and skipped ahead of him.
Before long, they arrived at a large tree hollow that evidently served as the chieftain’s dwelling.
Signaling to Chen Chen, Alistair darted away in a flash.
Left with little choice, Chen Chen stepped inside on his own.
The interior was quiet, yet the moment Chen Chen crossed the threshold, a scene caught his eye that made his heart skip a beat.
The chieftain was none other than the silver-haired centaur, who was currently tending to a wound. With his back turned toward Chen Chen, an injury marred his shoulder blade; something had deeply gashed the flesh, and blood was actively welling from the gash.
His skin was exceptionally pale, making the crimson hue stand out with stark vividness. A trail of blood wound its way down his shoulder blade, cutting across his beautifully sculpted, powerful back before dripping onto his equine form.
That single droplet bloomed like a flower upon his body.
Sensing a presence at the door, the man treating the wound whipped his head around without warning.
Chen Chen was struck speechless, gazing at his back and the single drop of blood staining his snow-white horse body.
What a waste, he thought to himself.