Chapter 71: Zhi-Xi HE

The government had a dedicated department that studied each replica. They scoured countless different replicas to identify common patterns, aiming to uncover the weaknesses of the [Ghost] system. Their ultimate goal was the same as Tan Manyu’s—find exploitable flaws.

These behind-the-scenes personnel had access to far more replica data than viewers. While they hadn’t yet found a breakthrough point, they had already identified and marked players suspected of being members of the cult-like organization operating globally.

However, the cult was expanding rapidly, and without direct exposure, it was hard to tell who was truly involved.

Fortunately, both Tan Manyu and Li Zhi were highly sensitive to such individuals. From the start of this replica, they had been wary of Zhou Jianzhang and his group. Even if the team survived, their ritualistic sacrifice of teammates would likely be stopped before it could succeed.

“After I drop you off at the hospital, I’ll have to report back to my department,” Tan said. “I’ll push for your request. You might need to come in later.”

Li Zhi smiled. “Sure. Call me anytime.”

Before ending the call, Tan added seriously: “Things are getting worse outside. Official resources are stretched thin. Try to stay indoors as much as possible.”

Li Zhi agreed.

After hanging up, she walked to the window and looked out.

From this angle, she could see the neighborhood shopping street. It used to be the liveliest place around—shops, food stalls, elderly dancing to music, kids learning roller skating. At night, the small fountain in the center lit up with neon lights, bustling with life.

Now, only an empty plaza remained. Not a soul on the streets. All shops closed, except one community center providing essential goods. Armed guards stood at its entrance—an effect of government control measures.

In just three months, the world had changed drastically. If things continued like this, societal collapse was inevitable.

Eventually, apocalypse and chaos would coexist—true hell on earth.

Li Zhi drew the curtains shut.

Outside, Shang Jinru called up to her: “Zhi Zhi, what do you want for dinner?”

She learned from her mother and sister that during her time in the replica, Yao Mingfeng’s team had delivered supplies. The kitchen was stocked with fresh vegetables and meat. Shang picked up a bag of frozen chicken thighs: “Want me to cook some chicken for you?”

Li Zhi nodded cheerfully. “Sounds good.”

While Shang cooked, she and Li Shuang sat in the living room watching live streams.

“Still no contact with Brother?” Li Zhi asked.

Li Shuang shook her head. “Phone’s still disconnected.”

Li Zhi pushed down her concern and opened Chi Yi’s stream. Chi had entered a replica three days ago. On the real-time popularity leaderboard, she ranked first. On-screen, the nation’s sweetheart swung a baseball bat wildly at a zombie head.

After confirming Chi was doing well, Li Zhi cast her vote and exited.

She had enough firsthand experience. In real life, she rarely watched replica streams anymore.

Li Shuang wasn’t big on watching other players either, but she browsed forums often. She leaned in with a sly grin: “Sis, did you know your ship with that NPC is number one on the forum now?”

Li Zhi raised an eyebrow. “There’s even a ranking for that?”

“Of course! You don’t know how popular player ships are?” Li Shuang clicked into the forum’s ranking page. “Take Du Jia—you remember him? That idol drama prince? His gameplay isn’t great, but he formed a ship with Chen Tianran called Destined Love. They always enter replicas together now—they’re super popular!”

Li Zhi took the phone and scrolled through. The forum had separate groups for every couple. The top-ranked ship was Zhi-Xi HE, clearly referring to her and Li Jianxi. Below them was Destined Love, in second place. Dozens of unfamiliar names followed, all trending heavily.

Even she and Chi Yi had a ship name—One Butterfly—ranked tenth.

Li Zhi: "…………"

Li Shuang continued excitedly: “Everyone says Li Jianxi confessed to you in this replica!”

Li Zhi blinked. “When?!”

She had no idea about this!

Li Shuang played a recorded clip: “Remember when you two watched the sunrise together in the clinic? No audio available, so everyone just assumed. CP fans say it was a confession.”

Li Zhi realized then—the live feed had muted their conversation.

Blocking live audio transmission sounded like a special item was used.

She examined the scene again—Li Jianxi’s hands were in his lab coat pockets. She was certain she hadn’t used any items. And the system wouldn’t block interactions between NPCs and players.

That left only one possibility—

Li Jianxi had used a signal blocker.

And to use a signal blocker meant he knew someone was watching.

Ordinary NPCs wouldn’t have that awareness. To them, the replica was their world.

How interesting.

According to his own words, Li Jianxi had always existed as an NPC within the replica. So when did he realize the replica was just a game arena—and that beyond it, there was another world filled with spectators?

Had he gained self-awareness by chance? Or had he always possessed it?

“Li Jianxi…”

Li Zhi repeated the name twice, then searched online for any information. Beyond replica-related content, nothing else surfaced. The name first appeared in the replica.

She messaged Tan Manyu: “Can you check official systems for info on him?”

Tan quickly agreed. The next day, she sent a voice message:

“There’s no such person.”

Tan seemed busy: “I even checked decades earlier, considering the replica’s historical settings. This name is rare—none matched national records.”

Her final voice note said: “If you suspect he’s not an NPC but a human, he’s probably from another dimension—like those new-player guides from multi-worlds.”

Li Zhi listened silently, then lay on the bed, pulling out the sunflower pendant.

She kept it close every night. Its jade texture warmed against her skin. Holding it up to the light, she saw faint glimmers beneath the surface—shimmering like hidden stars.

“Li Jianxi.” She held the pendant tightly, eyes closed. “Can you feel where I am?”

The pendant grew warmer in her palm.

At that moment, inside a replica, Li Jianxi suddenly looked up toward the sky.

He stood motionless—a stillness so complete that the nearby player thought he’d crashed.

“Hey! Li Jianxi! Did you hear me?!” The player waved a hand in front of his face. “I’ve come here seven times grinding for affection points—did they go up? Are you going to drop anything or not?!”

Finally, Li Jianxi turned, expression blank. “No.”

The player cursed. “Who said this NPC gives items for affection grind?! I skipped missions just to farm him—nothing! Waste of time!”

Grumbling, he stormed off.

Li Jianxi stood still for a while, then looked up again.

Beyond the player’s view, he felt a warm energy ripple from an unknown realm—like gentle waves across water. But something blocked it, separating him from sensing her location.

Was she looking for him?

Was she in danger?

Li Jianxi frowned slightly, reaching into his pocket.

But soon, he stopped.

The warmth vanished.

He felt nothing anymore.

...

Not long after, Li Zhi received a call from Tan Manyu.

“Higher-ups agreed to your request—but they want to meet you in person.”

Li Zhi asked calmly, “When?”

Tan replied, “A car’s downstairs now. Get ready and come down.”

Li Zhi changed quickly, said goodbye to Shang Jinru, and headed downstairs.

Standing outside the building was Yao Mingfeng, someone she hadn’t seen in a while. Seeing her, he gave a rare smile: “Comrade Li Zhi, we meet again.”

Li Zhi smiled back: “Thanks for taking care of my family.”

Yao walked with her toward the car. “You’re welcome. And thank you for bringing Tan Manyu back safely.”

A plain black sedan waited on the road. Two plainclothes agents sat in the front seat, but Li Zhi immediately recognized their shared demeanor with Yao.

As the car drove through nearly empty streets, occasional figures passed by.

Silent. Desolate.

Yao sighed softly, gazing out the window. “Don’t know when we’ll return to normal.”

Li Zhi’s voice was calm, steady: “That day will come.”

An hour later, the car stopped at a large compound.

The buildings looked old, matching the unremarkable cars parked outside.

Inside, Li Zhi followed Yao through several corridors and two elevators until they reached a simple lounge.

Tan Manyu stood inside, smiling when she saw Li Zhi. She waved from across the room.

Li Zhi walked over with a smile: “How’s your arm?”

Tan adjusted her sling. “Getting better. The school nurse handled it well—if not for him, I might’ve gotten infected. If I run into Li Jianxi again, I’ll have to properly thank him.”

As they chatted, the door opened again.

A middle-aged man entered, his presence calm and dignified.