Chapter 26: The Cosmic Light Tree, A Year’s Planting

Originally, it was nighttime.

Around ten o'clock, there was no sun, no moon, no stars—only the chaotic mountain wind howling and the rising and falling cries of birds, beasts, and insects from near and far, high and low…

Tall trees stood silently in the forest, their outlines barely discernible in the darkness, imparting an indescribable sense of oppressive fear.

But now… it was still night.

Yet, it was no longer the pitch-black darkness where one could not see their own hand in front of their face.

Not far ahead, a colossal building had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, roughly twenty or thirty stories tall, square and featureless, illuminated brightly by the lights on the ground, though this did not obscure the blaze of lights within. Special glass tinted the building’s glow blue, each window a neat, orderly square, reminiscent of a game of Tetris on the verge of defeat…

On one side of the building, the sign for “Yangtze River Big Data Center” ran from top to bottom, its flamboyant neon flashing in a way more befitting a shady deal than the literal meaning of the name. Nevertheless, it instantly drew attention.

Such as Alpha Ji, and Ye Chao.

Most crucially, everyone else had vanished! Not a single person remained—only Ye Chao stood alone in the empty space.

Where was this place? Standing on the hardened pavement, between landscaped greenbelts, bathed in the reflected glow of the neon, Ye Chao stared blankly, forgetting even his headache and the ringing in his ears.

He was certain—there was absolutely no building like this near Jiangcheng, nor even within the city itself.

So many lights—aren’t they afraid of attracting monsters? Isn’t it a waste of electricity? Madness.

Alpha Ji’s expression changed dramatically, bursting out of Ye Chao’s mind, her big eyes wide as peas: “It’s still, still, still… here? The world, the world hasn’t changed? No apocalypse? No lost thirty years? Everything—was fake?”

“Well played, beautifully played!” She spoke through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with a sob, and before she knew it, tears streamed down her face. “Who? Who are you all??”

“Liu Sha? Xia Zhihan? Duan Yanze? Zou Guoqiang? Meng Yan?… All of you, come out now, I promise not to beat you to death!” She wiped away her tears fiercely, scanning her surroundings with anticipation, excitement, and a wild sense of regained hope.

Her gaze swept past Ye Chao, and her expression suddenly changed.

A torrent of emotion crashed over her, as if the Milky Way had fallen from the heavens—retch…

As she transformed into a vomiting emoji, Alpha Ji was suddenly doused in cold water, snapping back to reality…

Time could be faked, the world could be faked, but she was now parasitically attached to this boy, inexplicably removed from the data backend and appearing in the real world—this was no illusion.

What was really happening?

Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do?

==========

The night was dim.

Only those who had reached a certain level of power could sense it—a faint, nearly invisible force field enveloped the exit of the trial cave.

Shimmering waves pulsed, as if rain were falling in the darkness; you could feel the cold drops slapping your face, but it was almost impossible to see.

What could be seen was a world within the force field, blurred and unreal, like the area above a bonfire twisted by heat.

One by one, the students emerged from the cave, their bodies gradually becoming indistinct within the force field, warping and finally vanishing…

The night was too dark, their emotions too elated at passing the trial; not a single person noticed anything amiss, nor did anyone realize that just a few meters away, as per the script, the teachers who should have been “frozen” in the assembly hall were actually gathered in a circle around the cave entrance.

Each wore a solemn expression, their minds merging through some special method, transforming into a mysterious and indescribable force that sent each student into an unknown space-time.

When the last student entered, the group withdrew their powers.

Sweat appeared on every brow, expressions weary; it was clear their task was no easy feat.

“This Chronolight seed was meant for university-level assessment. Isn’t it a bit excessive to use it here?” Suddenly, a programming teacher on the outer ring broke the cult-like silence.

The Chronolight Tree was a legendary marvel of the apocalypse era, said to have no physical form, its branches able to pierce through space-time, traversing past, present, and future at will. You might glimpse a single branch or leaf, but never the whole; you could see it for a second or a minute, but never for all time—like seeing a dragon’s head without its tail.

No one knew if such a wondrous tree truly existed, for no one had ever seen it…

But its seeds were more common, especially in certain assessments and trials—like now.

The teachers in the inner circle, those who mentally activated the Chronolight seeds, glanced at Guan Junyuan, saying nothing.

“Excessive?” The Green Giant, Yao Dexian, laughed. He had removed his makeup; neither tall nor muscular, he looked entirely ordinary, even mildly honest.

Yet those with honest faces rarely survive in politics.

“Whether it’s fair to suddenly add an extra round, I’ll leave aside for now. Let me ask you just one question.” The district supervisor took out a thick cigar, lit it with a snap, inhaled deeply, smoke billowing from ears, nose, and mouth as he spoke, “If we reported the exam results as they were…”

“You Jiangcheng No. 3 High School—level 52, nine classes, a total of three hundred students, with talents like Xu Tiange, famous throughout the city… But in the end, a liberal arts student took first place.”

“What do you think people would say about it? How would they judge you, judge Jiangcheng No. 3 High?”

“Of course, the auxiliary subject teachers are fine—that counts as good guidance. My moonlighting doesn’t matter. But what about you main subject teachers?”

Indeed, that was the real issue—the main reason the extra round was so overwhelmingly approved.

Main subject teachers have reputations to uphold. Letting Ye Chao take first place—where would their pride go? Where would Jiangcheng No. 3 High’s reputation go?

“Besides, the proctor didn’t object, did they?” Yao Dexian looked toward the steadfast teacher.

The steadfast teacher remained silent.

“But Ye Chao’s abilities are truly impressive—connecting signals, linking teams, real-time monitoring. Without him, there’s no way they would clear the trial in four hours, with only nine casualties…” The programming teacher still spoke up for Ye Chao.

Yao Dexian gave the starry-eyed programming teacher a long look.

Had she not been female, had she not been fair-skinned and beautiful, she’d likely have been tossed out already.

Her name was Hai Lili, new to Jiangcheng No. 3 High School for just a few months. She possessed special abilities, specifically in healing, but her talent was weak—she could only do minor cosmetic work…

Big on curves, less on brains—not a good match. Yao Dexian curled his lip: “True, Ye Chao’s newly awakened powers are surprisingly strong, no one denies that. But you must understand, school courses are divided into main and auxiliary subjects, and in main subjects there are both martial and auxiliary branches—there’s a reason.”

“No matter how strong his abilities, they’re still auxiliary! If he can clear the university-level assessment with the same speed and excellence, then you can come protest…”

As he spoke, Yao Dexian’s tone suddenly shifted.

He stared, as if seeing a ghost, directly at the point of spatial distortion.

There, a human figure slowly emerged—the familiar silhouette that, since the beginning, had repeatedly defied their expectations, forcing them to hastily add extra rounds…

Although the posture was rather awkward.