Chapter 104
Luo Shizhen slept very deeply.
This time, it was once again a magnificent, beautiful dream of wandering around and devouring treats.
He felt incredibly hungry, so famished he wanted to take a bite out of himself, but looking down, he realized he had shrunk.
He couldn’t even manage to eat himself.
Luo Shizhen floated vigorously in the air, his mind filled with nothing but eat, eat, eat. He pursued the treats running wildly across the ground, swallowing them down one by one.
This one was delicious, that one was tasty, and the other was quite good too.
But every time he was in the middle of a massive feast, the second he spotted the familiar silhouette of a pet, he would instantly turn and bolt.
Luo Shizhen vaguely remembered that his body shrinking to this minuscule size was entirely his pets’ doing.
They undeniably wanted to eat him.
Luo Shizhen naturally didn’t want to be eaten.
He hid away, waiting until it was safe and his pets were nowhere to be seen before emerging once more to continue his feast.
In truth, he didn’t harbor any complex thoughts; when devouring food, he simply felt it was delicious.
Pets would harm him—so he had to avoid pets—and then continue devouring treats.
In the dream, this cycle repeated for an eternity. Because the dream version of Luo Shizhen didn’t know math, he couldn’t calculate exactly how much time had passed.
He only knew that after a prolonged period of stealthily and covertly feasting, he once again encountered his pets.
This time, it was the largest one.
If Luo Shizhen knew the word “equality,” he would likely love every single one of his pets equally.
But who could blame him? He was a total illiterate in the dream.
If out of the seven pets, the dream version of Luo Shizhen loved the little rabbit best because it possessed beautiful soft fur, vibrant colors, and always proactively cozied up to bring him peace of mind…
Then his seventh favorite was that silver little snake.
The little snake’s scales were beautiful too, shimmering brightly.
But Luo Shizhen preferred soft fur.
Furthermore, the little snake grew too quickly. Although it wasn’t the absolute first pet he had raised by his side, it grew the fastest and best among all of them.
Its scales were no longer soft, becoming extraordinarily hard, and even the horns on its head were rigid, offering absolutely zero tactile texture.
It wasn’t like the little rabbit or the fox that would dance around Luo Shizhen; it always coiled alone in one spot, focused entirely on its own business.
It was the very first to leave the city Luo Shizhen had constructed, and it possessed the most dominant power. Compared to its grown form, Luo Shizhen preferred it when it was tiny. Although 99% of his mind was filled with eat, eat, eat, the remaining 1% still reminded him that the silver snake was not to be trifled with once grown.
Not just in terms of raw combat power, but also in its disposition.
It was always aloof and unreadable, yet inexplicably, the other pets either deferred to its leadership or feared it deeply.
However, it rarely showed its face. The last time he had seen it was when Luo Shizhen’s growth cycle was interrupted and he was stabbed during his threshold to adulthood.
Thus, when Luo Shizhen was soaring through the sky devouring food to replenish his energy, the second he caught a glimpse of that silver silhouette, he instantly turned and bolted.
He was terrified of being captured and never being able to eat delicious treats again.
As Luo Shizhen fled forward, he stole a glance back at that silver figure.
The other party stood at the edge of a precipice, bowing its head slightly toward him. Its majestic body was hidden deep within the clouds, leaving only its head lowered very far down.
This was a game Luo Shizhen loved to play when the little snake was tiny.
The little snake had been massive since infancy. When he first picked it up, it was only half his size, but after a bit of feeding, its body rapidly outgrew his by a wide margin.
Luo Shizhen used to love sitting on its head and sliding down its long, winding body.
Because its body was so incredibly long, various treats would occasionally spill out as he slid down. Luo Shizhen merely had to open his mouth wide and wait to be fed.
The dream version of himself didn’t know what this action was called, but the waking Luo Shizhen knew. This was called an open buffet!
To someone whose mind was filled with nothing but food every single day, this was already the most entertaining game he had ever experienced.
The little snake hated playing this game, always keeping a deadpan, cold face. But back then, it hadn’t grown up either; since Luo Shizhen wanted to play, it had no choice but to indulge him.
Later, when it grew up and became more than ten times larger than Luo Shizhen, it refused to accompany him in playing such a childish game.
Yet right now, it had lowered its head toward Luo Shizhen.
If it had been the old days, Luo Shizhen would have happily rushed forward long ago.
But now, he ran even faster.
It’s a trap! It’s absolutely a trap!
The little snake must think he smelled delicious, trying to pretend they were playing a game just to coax him over and devour him.
In the past, Luo Shizhen didn’t mind letting his pets nibble on him a bit. But right now, his body had significantly shrunk.
Furthermore, him being willing to be eaten was entirely different from his pets launching a sneak attack to devour him.
Floating in the air, Luo Shizhen unhappily swallowed hundreds of treats in a single gulp, then lazily drifted off to another location.
The dream version of himself couldn’t even distinguish an emotion like “unhappy”; he merely registered an instinctive discomfort whenever he thought of his pets, much like the sensation of a famished stomach.
His reaction was perfectly blunt: Since thinking of them brings discomfort, I simply won’t think about them.
However, thoughts weren’t something that could be easily controlled; after all, they remained rooted inside his head.
So Luo Shizhen directly tore his own brain out.
Stripped away along with his brain were all of his past memories.
He didn’t need these things. Anything that brought him discomfort should be discarded completely.
His already small brain was easily pried out by him and forcefully hurled away.
Afterward, he could continue happily eating and drinking just like before.
“My brain… my brain…”
In his half-waking state, he struggled desperately to pursue his discarded brain.
At this moment, he associated it with how he hadn’t been smart since childhood. While others could memorize a text after reading it two or three times, he had to read it a dozen or twenty times and still might fail to commit it to memory.
If he could chase his brain back, would he be able to memorize his texts after just two or three readings as well?
Chen He’an felt the slight squirming of the person beside him.
Propping himself up to look, he found Luo Shizhen’s face flushed a rosy red from sleep. Fine beads of sweat lined his forehead as if he were caught in a nightmare, his brow furrowed tightly as his lips continuously murmured:
[Brain]
Has this child been under too much pressure lately?
Chen He’an had been young once himself; he knew exactly what it felt like to transition from a protected school bubble directly to the active front lines.
Lowering his eyes, he gently wiped away the sweat from Luo Shizhen’s forehead, watching as the sleeping youth’s thick eyelashes fluttered slightly before his eyes slowly blinked open.
Turning his gaze toward him, those eyes—which still carried a trace of lingering bewilderment—instantly lit up, brimming with absolute reliance.
“Teacher.”
Luo Shizhen was still a bit muddled, reaching out a hand to touch his own head.
But after extending his hand, he couldn’t remember why he wanted to touch his head in the first place.
Chen He’an looked at him with a smile. “You were just talking in your sleep, calling out ‘brain, brain’ repeatedly. What’s wrong? What did you dream about?”
Luo Shizhen thought hard, but he couldn’t remember a single thing.
But still, a brain…
His eyes lit up.
He smacked his lips slightly. “I want to eat hotpot. Hotpot with pig brain.”
Many people disliked eating pig brain, but Luo Shizhen had never been a picky eater; he devoured whatever he was given.
He had accidentally tried pig brain once while dining at a hotpot restaurant with Chu Xiao and the others, intensely falling in love with it.
Chen He’an smiled and patted his head.
He really is still just a child.
Just like old times, the moment food was mentioned, his eyes would sparkle.
“Alright, we’ll eat hotpot. We’ll head out in a bit; treat it as a welcoming feast for you guys.”
Luo Shizhen had slept all the way until the late afternoon of the following day. At this time, driving to a nearby hotpot restaurant was perfect timing.
“The personnel from Eternal Day have already arrived to pick up Lin Ke for his medical exam. Once we finish dinner, you guys can hitch a ride back together.”
Luo Shizhen, who had happily hopped out of bed and was diligently making his sheets, froze. “Go back?”
“Yes. The East District is hazardous; it’s not good for a bunch of rookies like you to remain here for long. It’s better to return to the South District to properly accumulate experience.”
The consistently obedient Luo Shizhen felt a wave of reluctance:
“Teacher, can’t we stay for a few more days? I haven’t seen you in so long; I want to spend more time around you.”
He looked at his teacher expectantly. In the past, the second Luo Shizhen wore this expression, Chen He’an would yield to absolutely any request he made.
Yet right now, Chen He’an shook his head resolutely. “No. You must return today.”
Luo Shizhen instantly grew dejected. “Alright then.”
“Then Teacher, when are you returning to the school? Can I visit you at the school when the time comes?”
Chen He’an lowered his eyes, gently stroking the young Purifier’s head over and over:
“It’s hard to say. We were deployed here on a temporary basis. If other cities require reinforcement, I might be reassigned elsewhere, so I might not return to the school at all.”
“Oh, alright.”
Luo Shizhen felt a bit sad, but he was thoroughly accustomed to partings, so he didn’t show much of a reaction.
In any case, they could chat online or make phone and video calls.
Chen He’an fell silent for a prolonged moment before suddenly asking:
“Shizhen, do you know what it is you truly want to do now?”
This was a topic they had discussed before. Luo Shizhen shook his head in a slightly bewildered manner.
“I’m still not entirely clear. But I think things are pretty great right now—hanging out with everyone, clobbering bizarres, and getting a high monthly salary. It’d be nice if things could stay like this forever.”
To be perfectly honest, Luo Shizhen couldn’t wrap his head around what kind of life he truly wanted to lead.
Chen He’an wasn’t particularly surprised either; kids this age rarely harbored any concrete goals.
Eating, drinking, playing, and having fun was exactly the state a youth at this stage should be in.
He down, he secretly wished Luo Shizhen could find a goal.
In a world like this, lacking a goal was akin to a small boat drifting dynamically on the open sea—swaying precariously without an anchor.
Once you had a goal, you gained an anchor, ensuring the vessel wouldn’t capsize no matter what crisis arose.
He supposed this was exactly what it felt like to raise a child—wishing for them to remain frozen in their happiest phase, yet knowing perfectly well it was impossible since everyone must grow up. Thus, his only recourse was to do his absolute best to smooth out the road ahead before the youth fully matured.
Wishing for him to grow up quickly, yet wishing he would never grow up.
Wishing for him to remain forever sheltered under an elder’s wing, yet knowing perfectly well it was an absolute impossibility.
Luo Shizhen had no idea what was running through Chen He’an’s mind.
He felt that staying around his teacher brought immense joy, giving him the exact same sense of grounding stability he used to feel when collecting bottles with his grandmother as a child.
“Teacher, then is there anything you truly want to do?”
“Me? I want to protect my students, ensuring you all grow up safe and sound.”
Chen He’an poked Luo Shizhen’s cheek, his smile warm and gentle. “So you must eat well, drink well, and grow up healthy.”
Luo Shizhen immediately patted his chest; this was absolute child’s play to him:
“Don’t worry, Teacher! My Fifth Uncle always says I’m as strong as an ox, and I have a massive appetite—Chu Xiao and the others can’t eat nearly as much as I can.”
He was right in the middle of trying to display his robust frame when his nose suddenly twitched:
“So fragrant…”
Chen He’an’s brow knit tightly. Shielding his student behind him, he pulled open the door and stepped outside.
A single glance revealed the sky completely choked with thick, billowing pollution.
Stationed by the doorway with his arms crossed, Sui An lifted his eyes, scanning the young Purifier who was following obediently behind Chen He’an, before speaking lazily:
“The East District has been pulled into a bizarre domain.”
Raising an eyebrow, he extended his arm—because he was tall and slender, his reach was naturally longer than average—and effortlessly tapped the tip of Luo Shizhen’s nose.
“But those things definitely never expected that a Purifier would be sitting right here in the East District.”
Translator’s Note:
Thanks for reading, and see you next time!
Recommended Reads
