At night, the stars rose, the lights shone brightly, and the entire city resembled a dazzling city of light. Huge cloud boats hovered in the air like floating palaces, and colorful psychic light and shadow danced and shifted on the glass curtain walls of the tall buildings, like the projection of some ancient fairyland. Psychic barriers loomed between the buildings, occasionally revealing long streaks of sword light. This was the sound of cultivators wielding flying swords, their psychic trails streaking through the night sky like falling stars, a touch of luxury and elegance.
The streets were bustling with people, and psychic mechanical assistants of various colors shuttled among them, some delivering goods, others selling hot psychic barbecue skewers on the street. The air was filled with the alluring aroma of roasted animal meat and fragrant spiritual rice. Intelligent floating advertisements hovered in the air, continuously playing promotional images of mecha battle competitions. The commentary was passionate and surging: "The Tiandan-class mecha showdown, the peak battle is about to begin, stay tuned!"
This is a city where cultivation and technology blend seamlessly. Cultivators use psychic energy to power their magical instruments, while ordinary people rely on psychic machinery to make their lives more convenient. However, all this prosperity and bustle has nothing to do with Xiang Fan.
He dragged his exhausted body, hands in his pockets, head bowed as he walked briskly down the street, his maintenance uniform still reeking of engine oil from the workshop. He tried to avoid the glamorous monks and nobles, fearing he would accidentally rub against their priceless vestments and draw a barrage of ridicule.
"Flying Sword Delivery, the most convenient delivery service for cultivators, as fast as lightning!" An advertising robot floated in the air, its mechanical voice carrying an enthusiastic sales pitch.
Xiang Fan glanced casually and smiled bitterly after seeing the price: "I can't afford it. I have to be frugal even when eating steamed buns, and I have to pay for it with a flying sword..."
Turning a corner, a massive psychic internet cafe caught his eye. A neon sign flashed: "Yunxiao Psychic Internet Cafe—Providing the most advanced psychic access equipment, an exclusive virtual battlefield connection platform, limited-time offer—only ten spirit stones per hour!"
Through the floor-to-ceiling psychic glass, he saw that the Internet cafe was full of young monks, who were enthusiastically discussing a spiritual battlefield game that had just ended.
"Did you see that? The Team Zero just now was simply invincible!" An excited young man waved his arms, his eyes full of fanaticism.
"Nonsense! Zero is a legend in the Spirit Realm battlefield! I don't know how many masters have been trapped by that shabby mecha." Another person said enviously.
Xiang Fan's mouth twitched slightly. He was a bit amused and embarrassed by these comments, but he didn't stop. He just wanted to hurry back to his cabin, take a shower, play a few games of Spirit Realm Battlefield, and then get into bed and sleep.
Ran Xing's prosperity never belonged to him. He was just a small man making a living in a repair workshop.
His residence was on the edge of the city, far from the suspended streets of light and shadow, and devoid of flying swords and cloud boats. The streets were narrow and dim, with the occasional clang of falling machine parts. The psychic lamps on the roadside flickered faintly, seemingly ready to go out at any moment.
Pushing open the door of the cabin, a familiar scene came into view - a narrow bed, a scratched wooden table, a psychic heater that had been repaired countless times, and through the window you could see the broken mecha in the yard.
The mecha's shell was covered in cracks, and its psychic core glowed dimly. It looked like a battle-hardened veteran, ready to be completely scrapped at any moment. But Xiang Fan knew it still had life, simply dormant, awaiting the day of rebirth.
He sighed, placed the discarded parts he had brought back from the workshop on the table, and picked up a cracked psychic conduit. After examining it carefully for a moment, he murmured, "Old buddy, if this conduit can be repaired, perhaps you can move again."
The mecha did not respond, still standing there quietly, like an ancient statue.
Xiang Fan patted it gently and smiled self-deprecatingly: "Forget it, you won't mind me being poor anyway."
He casually picked up a psychic welder, put on his goggles, and began to repair the tube. The only sound in the room was the crackling of psychic sparks, which was particularly clear in the silent night.
The night sky of Ranxing is still bright, and the entire city is shrouded in glory. In this humble little house, a young boy is busy repairing his only "comrade". He knows that maybe one day in the future, he can also soar into the sky in a mecha like those high-ranking monks.
But before that, he still had to solve the problem of how to make this broken mecha move normally.
Xiang Fan rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply, feeling that the road ahead was as long as an endless repair project.
Xiang Fan quickly washed his face, climbed into the mecha's cabin, and expertly activated the psychic network connection device. A flash of light danced through the data stream, and a cold, mechanical voice echoed from within the cabin: "Spiritual Realm Battlefield Access Successful, Account: Zero, Welcome Back, King of Glory!"
He exhaled softly and leaned back in his chair, feeling his body gradually enveloped by psychic data. A familiar sense of lightness washed over him. The fatigue of the real world seemed to be isolated at this moment, and his consciousness quickly sank into another vast battlefield.
In the virtual conference room, the partners of Team Zero are already online.
Shadow Killer (Ning Yuge) was the first to greet him, his tone exaggerated: "Boss, why are you so late today? Are you working overtime again?"
Xiang Fan rubbed his eyes and replied with a tired smile, "Yeah, there's a lot of work in the workshop, I just finished it."
Ling Ruoxi deliberately frowned and said with a hint of sarcasm: "Junior brother, you can't do this. It's too hard! Do you want me to help you apply for some living allowance?"
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