The continuous sunny and warm weather has caused golden waves to surge in the wheat fields, and every ear of wheat is full of the scent of sunshine.
However, in this vibrant scene, the figure that appeared in the fields every morning has disappeared.
Lin Yi fell ill.
A sudden high fever confined him to his bed.
This is not a recurrence of an old injury, nor is it a curse coming back to haunt him; it is the result of his own choice.
With godlike will, he forcefully suppressed the restorative power within his body that was capable of instantly reshaping stars, ordering his body to return to its most primitive and vulnerable mortal state.
He wanted to use a mortal illness to completely bury the ghost known as the "Master of Time and Space".
Sweat soaked through the pillow and mat, and it felt like ice crystals were stuck between my bones. Every breath was accompanied by a burning pain.
This was a long-lost, pure pain that gave him a strange sense of peace.
The news was strictly controlled within a very small circle, but there are no secrets that stay hidden forever, especially in a place where everyone's thoughts are focused on one thing.
The first to notice something was wrong were the group of teenagers in the kitchen.
"Teacher Lin... didn't come today."
"He didn't come yesterday either."
"I don't think he came the day before yesterday either."
It's been three days.
The man who always smiled as he accepted the largest rice bowl, and who could make even a coarse grain pancake taste like a delicacy, has not appeared for three whole days.
A little girl with pigtails is holding a broken bowl with one half missing. Inside the bowl is the thickest porridge that she had deliberately saved.
She lingered in front of that familiar wooden door for a long time, her small figure stretched long in the setting sun.
She drew circles on the ground with her toes, her mind in turmoil.
Will Teacher Lin think she's being nosy?
What if she disturbs my rest?
In the end, the longing for that warm smile overcame my fear.
She stood on tiptoe and gently knocked on the wooden door with her knuckles.
"Tap, tap, tap."
There was a moment of silence inside the door before a suppressed cough and dragging footsteps could be heard.
The door hinges creaked and slowly opened a crack.
Lin Yi's face appeared behind the door. His face, which always wore a calm smile, was now as pale as a sheet of paper. His lips were cracked and his eye sockets were sunken. Only his eyes still shone with a gentle light when he saw the small figure at the door.
He leaned against the doorframe, took a breath, and then forced a smile, his voice hoarse but clear: "Today, you are the hero who delivered the food."
The little girl's face flushed red instantly. She forcefully thrust the broken bowl forward, almost spilling the porridge: "Teacher Lin, here you go... Drink this, and you'll get better."
Lin Yi did not refuse. He reached out his slightly trembling hand and took the broken bowl.
The rim of the bowl still carried the warmth of the girl's hand.
He looked at the simple rice porridge in the bowl, and the most ordinary aroma of rice seemed like the most effective medicine, dispelling the last trace of loneliness belonging to the gods in his heart.
The child watched him drink a few sips before turning and running away, shouting back as he went, "I'll come again tomorrow!"
Lin Yi smiled and waved until the small figure disappeared at the alley entrance before turning around and closing the door.
He didn't finish the bowl of porridge. Instead, he went to the windowsill and carefully poured the remaining half bowl, rice and soup, into a worn-out earthenware pot.
In the pot, a wild wheat seedling dug out from a crack in the rock is weakly stretching out its leaves.
This was planted the day before he fell ill; it symbolizes new life, and also symbolizes himself.
The boiling rice porridge was poured over the roots, and the tips of the wheat seedlings seemed to tremble slightly, as if they too could feel this clumsy but sincere warmth.
At the same moment, Chu Yao, who was far away at the top of the academy tower, sensed seventeen crystal-clear ripples spreading across the entire school's mental network.
These seventeen ripples came from seventeen different people—a respected old professor, a spirited young soldier, a taciturn peasant woman, and even the most mischievous student.
Without consulting or conspiring, they made the same decision at that moment, without prior agreement.
They took turns delivering meals to Lin Yi.
A peculiar understanding formed between them; neither of them said, "Let's go see Teacher Lin." Instead, they used a phrase full of ritual.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to be a kitchen hero for a day."
This sentence was like a secret password, passed silently among the seventeen people.
Deeper underground, Ivan's enormous body resonated with the planet's core.
His intermittent whispers, like the friction of tectonic plates, echoed in Chu Yao's mind:
"It...is afraid..."
“It’s not afraid of swords, not afraid of annihilation… but this.” Ivan’s thoughts pointed to the figures rushing between the kitchen and Lin Yi’s hut. “It’s afraid of being treated as… an ordinary patient who needs to be cared for.”
For a remnant of a god who was once high above and treated all living beings as mere straw dogs, to be pitied, cared for, and treated as a mortal who needs a bowl of hot porridge to survive is more devastating than any form of attack.
This denies the very basis of its existence.
Lin Yi's illness became the gentlest yet cruelest form of torture inflicted on that remaining consciousness.
He never used any extraordinary power to speed up his recovery. Instead, like the most stubborn patient, he lay quietly in bed, feeling every change in his body.
The illness made him more lucid than ever before.
The arrival of each "kitchen hero" is like a small festival.
He began using his still-movable fingers to record details of each food delivery person on small, pre-cut slips of paper.
The burly man named A Niu always added an extra slice of ginger to the meat soup he brought to ward off the cold.
The woman named Aunt Chun, I remember, didn't seem to like salty food, and the dishes she always cooked were just the right amount of bland.
The silent boy would put down his lunchbox and squat on the steps by the door, remaining silent until he heard the sound of bowls and chopsticks being put down inside. Only then would he get up and leave silently, as if confirming in this way that he had really finished eating.
Lin Yi wrote down these observations on a slip of paper and, when returning the bowl the next day, quietly slipped it into the bottom of the bowl along with some inconspicuous return gift—perhaps a smooth pebble or a dried wildflower.
That day, the person who delivered the food was a young man whose eyes always carried a hint of melancholy.
He put down his lunchbox and was about to turn and leave as usual when Lin Yi called him back.
"etc."
Lin Yi handed over the empty bowl, which the young man took, his fingers touching the small note tucked into the bottom of the bowl.
He unfolded it with a puzzled expression.
The note contained only one sentence, the handwriting slightly crooked due to the owner's weakness, yet powerful enough to penetrate the paper.
"Your mother took care of the wounded in the field hospital in the same way, right? She would be proud of you."
The young man was jolted, as if struck by lightning.
He suddenly looked up, staring intently at Lin Yi, his eyes instantly turning red.
This is the deepest secret buried in his heart, his greatest pride and pain in his midnight dreams.
His mother was a battlefield medic who died in a rescue operation. He never mentioned his mother's profession to anyone, only saying that she was an ordinary woman.
He always felt that it was his own cowardice that prevented him from being as brave as his mother.
And now, Lin Yi has revealed this secret in the gentlest way.
That's not spying, but a kind of understanding and recognition that transcends time and space.
The young man could no longer control himself. He didn't cry out loud, but buried his face in his hands, and hot tears gushed out from between his fingers.
The emotions suppressed for many years were released in the most complete way at this moment.
He wasn't crying for himself, but for his heroic mother, whom he had hidden away, who had finally received the most sincere respect from a stranger.
These drops of scalding human tears were like the last straw that broke the camel's back.
Deep within Lin Yi's consciousness, the last remaining remnant consciousness belonging to the "Master of Time and Space" finally launched its final and most frantic counterattack!
"boom--!"
An invisible, icy pressure, seemingly emanating from the primordial universe, instantly enveloped the entire academy!
Everyone who is running, talking, or working is simultaneously having a terrifying illusion implanted in their minds—
Above Lin Yi's cabin, the sky shattered like a fragile piece of glass, with dark red cracks spreading out to reveal the cold, desolate starry sky behind it.
The roof of the cabin was ripped off by an unseen force, and Lin Yi lay on the bed, barely breathing, his life force about to be extinguished.
Immediately afterwards, a colossal, towering phantom slowly descended through the rift.
The phantom's face bore a seven-tenths resemblance to Lin Yi, yet it was filled with divine indifference and majesty.
His gaze swept across the earth, and everyone who was looked upon felt their souls tremble.
The ancient "master of time and space" has descended!
A voice as grand as thunder resounded deep within everyone's soul:
"You mortals! Your savior has reached the end of his road! Kneel before me, offer your loyalty, and I will grant him eternal life and protect you for all eternity!"
The divine might was like a prison, changing the very fabric of heaven and earth!
This is the last gamble for the remaining consciousness.
It will use the most familiar methods—fear and divine authority—to reshape believers and regain control.
In its imagination, these insignificant mortals would immediately kneel down, trembling, and worship the miracle.
However, this time, it was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Under the illusion, no one looked up.
The girl with pigtails, who had just finished delivering food and was running along the road, was startled by the sudden darkening of the sky. Then, remembering something, she quickened her pace, shouting towards the kitchen as she ran, "Aunt Wang! Teacher Lin's porridge is getting cold, quickly bring me a hot bowl!"
An old farmer harvesting herbs in the field looked up at the terrifying crack in the sky. His cloudy eyes showed no awe. He spat, hoisted a bundle of herbs still fragrant with the scent of earth onto his shoulder, and rushed with all his might towards Lin Yi's yard, shouting, "Bullshit about the sky collapsing and the earth splitting! My warming soup is ready, that's what matters!"
The young man who had just been crying wiped away his tears, turned around and rushed towards the academy's medical department. He was going to get the best medicine, or at least the ordinary medicine!
In their eyes, there were no phantom images of gods descending from the sky, no cracked sky, and no soul-shaking call.
In their eyes, there was only one patient lying in bed, needing a bowl of hot porridge, a dose of herbal medicine, and a warm greeting.
He's not a god, not a hero, just a neighbor who gets sick, suffers, and needs to be cared for.
"No...it's impossible! How...how dare you..."
For the first time, that grand voice was filled with panic and fear.
The illusion, amidst the resolute footsteps of countless people rushing towards Lin Yi, and the shouts of "Quickly, change to hot porridge!" and "I've made some soup to dispel the cold!", collapsed like a burst bubble!
The sky cleared up, and the oppressive atmosphere dissipated.
Remnant consciousness utterly defeated!
It let out a defiant shriek, transformed into a streak of light, and desperately rushed towards the "Well of Memory" deepest in Lin Yi's consciousness.
It will be there to etch its final curse, an eternal mark—
"You... owe me!"
However, when it rushed to the wellhead, it was horrified to find that the wellhead, which was originally as calm as a mirror, had somehow transformed into a flowing ripple of wind, both gentle and resilient.
That was Chu Yao's power.
The remnant consciousness used its last bit of strength to crash into it, trying to carve words, but as soon as its will touched the wind pattern, it was instantly smoothed out and blown away by the flowing power, leaving not even a trace.
"No--!"
Just as it was about to completely dissipate, a heavy, solid force rose from the bottom of the well, like the rumble of the Earth's core.
Ivan used the pulse of the entire planet as his pen and the laws of the earth as his ink to carve a line of inscription in reverse at the bottom of the well.
That was neither a curse nor a judgment, but a statement.
"You were once a human being, and you could have been remembered."
The last vestige of his consciousness crumbled completely upon seeing these words.
It vanished silently, like frost meeting the scorching sun, amidst the footsteps of a little girl running with hot porridge, the panting of an old farmer carrying herbs, the steaming bowls of food handed to him from all directions, and the gazes of those who no longer looked to the gods but cared only for their neighbors' ailments.
Lin Yi woke up in the warm morning light.
The high fever subsided, and although he was still weak, the heavy feeling that had made it hard for him to breathe had disappeared.
My mind was crystal clear, and I felt an unprecedented sense of ease.
He slowly sat up and opened the window.
Outside the window, the place was packed with people.
They didn't make a fuss or cheer; they just stood there silently, and when they saw him wake up, a relieved smile appeared on their faces.
The morning light shone on their simple faces, giving them a golden glow.
Lin Yi looked at them. These people, in the past few days, had won a war they themselves didn't even know they had won in the most clumsy but sincere way.
He supported himself on the edge of the bed, slowly got out of bed, and walked to the door.
He didn't say thank you; those two words seemed too pale and powerless at that moment.
He simply raised the bowl that had been empty all night, and just like many days before at the festival celebrations, his face once again wore that familiar, languid smile, and asked:
"Who's treating me to dinner today?"
The crowd was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter, filled with the joy of surviving a disaster and a sense of closeness.
"Let me do it!" A boy rushed forward and shoved a steaming hot lunchbox into Lin Yi's hands.
Lin Yi took the lunchbox, opened it without hesitation, and took a big bite of the warm steamed bun.
The sweet aroma of wheat spread in my mouth; it was the taste of the earth, the taste of sunshine, the taste of home.
As he chewed, his gaze inadvertently drifted past the crowd and toward the distant horizon.
On that bluish-green mountain ridge, a spectacle never before seen was quietly unfolding.
Countless tiny, crystallized wheat blossoms, as fine as dust, are slowly rising from the depths of the wheat field. They shimmer with diamond-like brilliance and converge in the morning breeze to form a dazzling ribbon of light, like a galaxy pouring into the sky, magnificent and mysterious.
Lin Yi's pupils contracted slightly, and he stopped chewing.
He gazed at the galaxy flowing against the current, sensing a new and pure rule of life contained within it, as if he heard a question from the distant past.
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