Chapter 13: If You Understand My Frustration, Please Teach Me

One walks, one follows. Jiang Huan pursued closely, giving the person she was tailing no chance to escape. After playing the hero and punishing evil, how could he still feel wronged?

Jiang Huan was extremely curious about Bai Jingchuan’s personality. He possessed an innate aloofness and arrogance, yet there was a hint of vulnerability. If the soul were a vessel, when struck by unhappy events, the sound it made while shaking would be unique—a sound only those of the same kind could hear. She followed Bai Jingchuan into the subway. Among the crowd bundled in thick coats, his lone shirt stood out starkly, though he seemed indifferent, riding all the way to the terminal station.

The destination this station led to… was the planetarium? Was the producer also contemplating scenes for his characters?

The planetarium was nearing closing time. Jiang Huan waited a few minutes, purchasing a ticket just before being stopped by the staff. If not for following Bai Jingchuan, she wouldn’t have thought to visit the planetarium so soon for inspiration. There were only a few visitors inside. She trailed behind him as he walked through the long corridor, hopping lightly up the stairs and then back down. He even seemed to pause momentarily—had he noticed her?

The light projections displayed moving blues. White shapes resembling fish swayed their tails, swimming from one segment to another, splitting dreams and merging back into them. The venue’s spherical and shell-like structure formed a ring. Jiang Huan looked up—during the day, sunlight might pour in to create an eclipse. Standing here felt like being in a fairytale of stars and moons. Jiang Huan had gradually come to appreciate the joy of fantastical realms during her previous project. Before that, she was simply a woman with no intention of pursuing science fiction interests, living a life of commuting, eating takeout, and watching dramas, harboring modest dreams. Now, walking amidst the canvas of stars, the marble textures, volcanic eruptions, cloud scales, and ocean foam—all these natural wonders became mere adjectives against the vast expanse of the universe. Jiang Huan paused, gazing at the scene on the screen, standing far apart from Bai Jingchuan. She felt this indescribable sensation was akin to something slowly yet profoundly altering… human emotions.

A text appeared on the starry dome.

The astronomical bureau had surveyed and reasonably calculated that on April 1, 2023, an X5-class solar flare would erupt, severely disrupting Earth’s magnetosphere and ionosphere. Both human bodies and electronic devices would be affected. This geomagnetic storm might bring extreme weather, typhoons, earthquakes, and auroras. A red alert for electromagnetic storms had been issued, carrying poetic messages from high-latitude life forms and species to Earth. Perhaps behind this magnetic storm, the trajectories of tens of millions of lives would be rewritten. Perhaps this was the universe forcefully delivering poetry, hoping those who had abandoned hope would embrace life anew.

What did this mean? 2023? Wasn’t that next year? Jiang Huan didn’t dwell on it, instead stealing glances at Bai Jingchuan, who stood by another door in the distance. Was this how he wrote Emotional Tide ? Like lovers of the cosmos and spacetime, communicating their longing through faint radio waves, searching for traces of their beloveds in artificially reconstructed old cities. Was he part of this solitude? She recalled the cosmic message from Emotional Tide : “Do you see that heart-shaped planet, blue on the left, yellow on the right, yet pink overall? It’s a romantic gift from the universe. Two galaxies collided to form the shape of a heart—a romantic and fated encounter after billions of years of celestial movement. Only those who witness it can truly feel it. Dark matter in the universe pulls each other, and within the vast magnetic fields lie countless parallel worlds. Different choices diverge into different trajectories. Don’t worry about beings in this world who haven’t met. As time flows, life appears in another form, meeting again with different faces.”

Bai Jingchuan’s leather shoes clicked, and Jiang Huan’s canvas sneakers tapped along behind him. Even the most dramatic teenage crush couldn’t boast such a poetic backdrop. Beneath the projection of the starry sky, she felt as if she were watching the person she liked under a meteor shower.

Jiang Huan even began to suspect—was this some clever ploy by him to lead her here for inspiration? If so, it was indeed a sly move by the producer, especially since it was after work hours. He left the exhibition hall, and Jiang Huan quickly exited through another door, her soles scraping loudly against the floor, nearly tripping herself. Such clumsiness wouldn’t suit this poetic setting—she wasn’t some clichéd anime heroine! Just as she thought this, she stumbled into someone’s arms. Could it be Bai Jingchuan? How would she explain tailing him here? Could she bite back? Would he remain silent? Being mute was rather pitiful, and suffering often evoked sympathy…

As she raised her head, she briefly wondered if her body smelled after a day’s work or if her lack of makeup made her look too haggard. The person she bumped into wore a shirt but lacked muscle tone beneath—it was just a staff member. He looked puzzled: “In such a hurry? We’re closing in half an hour.”

“Not at all! Sorry!”

Embarrassing!

She hurried forward, finally catching sight of his tall figure once more. Even if Bai Jingchuan discovered her, it was fine—they could take the same metro back downtown. Surely, even a picky superior could tolerate sharing a ride, right? Wait, weren’t these two roads perpendicular? How could someone vanish after turning a corner?

[You are about to enter a mission unrelated to Jiang Huan. Do you accept Mission 1-6?]

Before Bai Jingchuan appeared numerous fleeing shadows. These shadows were residual data lingering in the real world—conscious but without physical form. Left unchecked, they would disrupt people’s digital lives, corrupt information, damage electronic devices, and even cause power outages in certain areas. They needed to be promptly eliminated.

The invincible man felt slightly dizzy in the suburbs—he hadn’t eaten to replenish his energy, and his body was weak. Earlier, when splitting the gray shadow, he felt as though he were treading on cotton. Clearing sixty shadows wasn’t difficult, but with a weakened body, it became challenging. From suburban roads to residential areas, then teleporting to the seaside, he could feel his stamina draining like a battery as he used his abilities.

It was an illusion. Upon completing the mission, Bai Jingchuan found himself standing on a stone path by the sea, braving the midnight chill. Text popped up:

[Mission 1-6 complete. Lv 16 upgraded to Lv 18. Earned 5,000 gold coins and 1 Prop Selection Box. Note: Your body has sustained minor damage. Please repair it promptly. After completing this mission, proceed to the following address for repairs. Be sure to conceal your identity.]

Because he wasn’t a complete body, he couldn’t even go to a hospital? The die seemed to read his thoughts, popping up beside his ear as if to console him: “Feeling down, huh? Everything tied to Jiang Huan—do you regret coming to the real world? Actually, you can always press the undo button and choose to end your life, though I don’t recommend it. But the choice is yours.”

Bai Jingchuan stood by the sea, waiting for his breathing to steady. He didn’t feel any discomfort or pain, only the cold seeping through his shirt. If he were to break down and disappear now, his journey from Magu City to the real world would end abruptly—and he wasn’t ready to give up. Yet staying here meant enduring humiliation. Not only were his talents restricted, but his dignity was trampled by the system, leaving him undignified. The sea breeze whistled past his ears as he tried to recall the comfortable, peaceful life in Magu City—arriving punctually at court for judgment, reviewing criminals’ life records to make decisions, teaching students once a week, revising papers and laws, occasionally balancing scores in Magu City competitions. It had been fulfilling, brimming with a sense of accomplishment. But…

He had no friends there, not even someone he could call a companion.

When criticized for unfair judgments, few stood by him.

Girls admired him but never entered his life. Nothing in his life was worth cherishing.

Even his bed wasn’t cozy—no color scheme could make him sleep soundly. He could hear birds chirping at dawn and count neon lights in the dead of night.

The superior life in Magu City wasn’t worth missing. He stood before the tide, mocking himself. Unaware, he had thought he was living a secluded yet fulfilling life. Now, standing in the wind, his hair disheveled and fingers stiff, unable to feel his heartbeat, he guessed this was where he needed repairs. He believed himself whole, capable of discarding what he didn’t need—but now, he was broken.

“I found you!” A voice came from behind—it was Jiang Huan. He turned in surprise as she limped over: “The road here was tough—I twisted my ankle. Finally, I found you…”

People who fought shouldn’t pity each other’s wounds, but his heart was tugged again—he couldn’t bear seeing her. Jiang Huan approached, grabbing his shirt sleeve: “Stop running—you’re hard to chase. I need to tell you something. You seem to be in pain, judging by your furrowed brows, but you’re a man… Can you endure it for now?”

Bai Jingchuan wasn’t in pain, but with Jiang Huan gripping him, his brows relaxed—not because he was happy, absolutely not.

“All seven male leads’ data were lost—they should be phased out. I can accept that. Perhaps the company’s production systems have been revamped, and their character designs are outdated. A holographic character’s popularity cycle is about three years. Typically, after three years, everyone likes new characters. There are evergreen characters, but I failed to create them—it’s my shortcoming.”

Bai Jingchuan couldn’t speak, his ears burning. Instinctively, he took a step back, but Jiang Huan followed, touching his cheek and firmly holding his face in her hands: “Why are you avoiding me? Do you hate me that much?”

They had embraced upon their first meeting, and now she was cupping his face. Was this deliberate intimacy or an unconscious act? What did she want?

His heartbeat quickened—thump, thump, thump, thump.

“Sorry, I’m not treating you as my superior right now. I just meddle too much. You’ve been silent lately, which is strange, and you came all the way here alone… Maybe you need a friend. People connect through stories. An accidental encounter, locking eyes—that’s a beginning. Physical contact reveals differences from strangers. Chemistry takes care of the rest…”

Before her words ended, a wave crashed over. They had merely been standing by the shore, but water flooded halfway up their legs. Such rapid tides weren’t normal—at least not in Li Bode’s experience.

Bai Jingchuan’s usable abilities were reduced to just 15% of their true level, yet instinctively, he pulled Jiang Huan into his arms, shielding her from the wave’s impact. His body, trained by the system, remained steady even without talent boosts. He could surf barefoot if needed, but Jiang Huan couldn’t—she’d be swept away, losing her breath to the tide. Protecting her was instinctual—but when had he developed this instinct? The force of the wave left him dizzy. She always seemed connected to water; whenever near it, Bai Jingchuan ended up drenched. At first, he thought it was coincidence, but now he understood. Behind the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods lay secrets—sending him to Jiang Huan because this girl faced danger. Jiang Huan was barely wet, hastily unwrapping her scarf to dry his head: “Why are you soaked again? My scarf was wrapped inside my clothes—it’s warm!”

Bai Jingchuan, tired of enduring silently, tried to step back, but Jiang Huan’s scarf firmly held him in place: “Don’t go—it’s fine, don’t worry. It’s just a scarf, bought cheaply from a roadside cart. No need to mind!”

The scarf still carried her warmth. Though drenched once more, Bai Jingchuan felt unusually warm. Was this scarf so powerful? Jiang Huan wiped the water from his face, tilting his head to pat his ears as if soothing a child. Her warm fingers pinched his earlobes and traced his neck, making his ears burn—an experience never felt in Magu City.

“That… Teacher Bai, if you won’t speak, can you at least stop looking at me… Your gaze is a bit… It’s hard for me to talk.”

Li Bode’s handsome appearance was striking, a man whose beauty astonished all. But he never cared. He had beautiful eyes that once indifferently scrutinized everything, now shimmering ambiguously like rippling water. Jiang Huan saw it all, so whether in professional settings or private moments, she avoided his gaze as much as possible.

“Some might think you’re a born Casanova. But forgive me for saying this—they say that because they want to dismiss you.”

Bai Jingchuan continued to stare at her.

“I don’t like being misunderstood, and I don’t expect my efforts now to completely change your perception of me. But emotions—the things you think are unnecessary—are small hopes that keep people alive a little longer. Many people cling to a rope to stay suspended on a cliff, always tempted to cut it or let go. Love is one of those things, as are other emotions. I’ve been following you since the planetarium. Sorry, but I needed you to know—whether it’s my previous characters or you, they all matter to me. I’m trying hard to live, so you can’t cut my rope.”

The sea breeze brought the cold, masking their breathing beneath the surging waves. Bai Jingchuan trembled, his face cupped by Jiang Huan, a faint warmth transferring between them. She didn’t let him leave, her voice rising with intensity: “I could have ignored you, acted like a proper subordinate, but I got impatient. When I have something to say, I can’t wait. Why aren’t you speaking? Are you mute?”

Bai Jingchuan could breathe, sigh, groan in pain, and hear his heartbeat when silent—but he couldn’t speak. The girl before him was shorter, bare-faced, yet brimming with fiery determination because of her frustration. It was as if she were determined to change his mind no matter what.

He had to admit, Magu City had advanced to an almost absurd degree, while the real world seemed mundane and backward in comparison. Yet the continuous blows and shocks made him realize how little he knew about this world—especially the girl before him, who baffled, saddened, agitated, and irresistibly attracted him every time. Love was like an intangible embrace after pouring out one’s soul—depressing and devoid of accomplishment. He was invincible, yet he now truly felt weak. He suddenly understood why his eyes automatically recorded the moment their fingertips touched—he had never been so focused. Every time he immersed himself in Magu City’s competitions, there was precise calculation, not reckless abandon. The reason for this, he wasn’t ready to admit just yet.

[Jiang Huan’s affection towards you: +50.]

Her affection was still increasing…

“What now? Anything you want to say? If you don’t, I’m leaving.”

Bai Jingchuan remained silent, and Jiang Huan’s intensity grew. He didn’t resist, only listened carefully, gazing at her sorrowfully, as if opening a fresh wound. The invincible man revealed vulnerability, and the next moment, he would draw her into a trap. His sadness was too pure, his gaze too clear—it was dazzling. Villains weren’t pitiful; a villain’s pity was always a trap. She shuddered under his gaze, pulling her scarf away and retreating: “What kind of look is that? I’m leaving…”

[Jiang Huan’s affection towards you: +100. Voice functionality restored. Total level upgraded to D-class. Please manage your affection interactions accordingly.]

“Teach me.”

Jiang Huan froze—what did he say? After staying silent for so long, he suddenly spoke?

“I’m no Casanova. I’m just an ordinary person. No prestigious status, no admirable talents—just a failure… a very basic… human.”

“Huh?”

I’ve seen your persistence, felt your unwillingness to admit loneliness. In this brief time, I’ve experienced palpable heartache. Anxiety builds when you can’t immediately express what matters to you. Unspoken feelings for someone you miss grow heavier like a stone in your chest. Now, as you hold onto me, the stone in my chest has disappeared. Even the faintest glimmer of light on the horizon shines as brightly as a rainbow.

A person like a rainbow—only upon meeting do you realize their presence. In this city of thin air, I have no one else to think of, no particular concerns, but my heart is always drawn to you. The stifling frustration and agitation in my throat have dissipated. Now, I feel clarity, like regaining the ability to breathe freely.

“Teach me—what you understand about love.”

PS: Goodnight, everyone! Typos will be fixed when I wake up.