Chapter 18 Part 1

“Multiple fractures in the limbs, severe soft tissue damage.”

“Neck sprain.”

“Spinal fracture, severe internal bleeding from organs.”

“The patient’s heart sounds were weak, blood pressure low. The impact caused cardiac pericardial rupture, triggering severe shock—”

In the inpatient department of State Guest Hospital, several doctors in white coats clutched reports as they hurried toward the ICU. In front of the two-dimensional ultrasound machine, a red light flashed.

A group of nurses trembled in fear. Under pressure from Zhou Corporation, even Deputy Director Chen of State Guest Hospital, who hadn’t appeared in ages, donned a white coat.

He furrowed his brows and asked in a heavy voice, “How is it?”

“Director, the situation doesn’t look good.” The male doctor next to him had a square face. His brows were tightly knit, his expression grave as he handed a stack of freshly delivered files to Deputy Director Chen. “Take a look here…”

Shen Yu’s injuries were neither light nor severe. He woke from a two-day coma.

Aside from abrasions and a mild concussion, there were no other issues. The nurse said there was a small blood clot in his brain that would cause occasional headaches for a while, but there was no need to worry; the clot would dissipate on its own soon enough.

After the nurse finished changing his dressing and left.

The sound of the door closing echoed. Once he was alone in the room, Shen Yu finally had a moment to recall everything that had happened.

The truck had come too fast, completely outside his plans. If anything had gone slightly wrong, given Shen Yu’s luck value, he would have most likely died on the spot from the violent impact. He wouldn’t have truly died, but reloading the save would have wasted all their prior progress. It really wasn’t worth it.

However—

Shen Yu wiggled his fingers and looked up at the ceiling. Light streamed in, pure white all around.

This was the feeling of being alive.

He was still alive.

He had won the bet again.

Was it a slight shift in the Heavenly Dao’s power? Lately, the goddess of luck seemed to favor him especially.

Shen Yu rubbed his forehead. Pain throbbed from deep in his brain, like a little hammer smashing his skull to pieces, with bone fragments piling up inside, causing a swollen ache. But it was tolerable.

Shen Yu shook his head and waited for the pain to fade before calling out to 007: 【How long was I out?】

007 stayed silent.

Shen Yu keenly sensed the change in 007. After a moment’s thought, he belatedly realized—

007 was angry?

During the car crash, the situation had been perilous. Zhou Jinsheng, as the Heavenly Dao’s favored son, naturally came out unscathed. But the host had no such protection. Using his body as a shield was tantamount to suicide. If Zhou Jinsheng hadn’t shielded him at the last second, it would have been loop three!

In his mind, Shen Yu conjured a hand and roughly ruffled 007’s puffed-up round head, apologizing: 【Sorry, don’t be mad. See? We didn’t have to reload. The task is going great.】

007 frowned. It wasn’t angry that Shen Yu had nearly botched the task—tasks were tasks, and reloading was always an option.

No, it was furious that its host didn’t cherish his own body at all. They had no pain suppression function. All that suffering was one hundred percent real!

Shen Yu had no idea what was going through 007’s mind. He formed his fingers into a gun, pressing his index finger to 007’s forehead in threat: 【Don’t play mute.】

007 fumed: 【Host pulling stunts like this, 007 will be pissed to death someday!】

Shen Yu: 【It’s fine. I’ll watch an ad to revive you.】

【……】

007 sighed and gave the answer: 【Twenty-four hours.】

Twenty-four hours?

Shen Yu raised a brow.

Just one day. Not too much time wasted.

Shen Yu sat up in bed. His gaze swept the room, landing on his phone atop the cabinet to his right. The rescuers must have found it and left it there.

The screen was shattered like a spiderweb, evidence of the crash’s ferocity. Shen Yu picked it up. The signal bar at the top showed one bar. He stretched his arm high, shook the phone vigorously, and peered close.

Well, damn.

Even that single bar was gone.

State Guest Hospital had imposed strict restrictions on entry and exit. Aside from a few exceptions, the entire inpatient department was now a one-way street out. Even doctors and nurses had to bunk there. All news was completely sealed off—not even Shen Yu’s parents knew.

There was zero word from Zhou Jinsheng.

In the three days since waking, Shen Yu hadn’t seen anyone besides doctors and nurses.

Shen Yu knew Zhou Jinsheng had to be at State Guest Hospital too, and badly hurt. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have locked down the inpatient department so tightly.

He’d subtly brought up Zhou Jinsheng once. The nurse’s face had changed instantly, as if he’d broached a taboo. She’d hurriedly finished his meds and bolted.

Very odd.

That afternoon, Shen Yu took a stroll in the hospital’s rear garden. On the way back, he passed an ICU room in the inpatient wing.

A red light glowed steadily at the door. Two soldiers in camouflage, rifles in hand, stood guard—intimidating and heavily armed. Doctors and nurses passing by treaded carefully. Shen Yu glanced from afar, hesitated, then returned to his room.

Two more days passed.

Shen Yu’s door suddenly swung open from outside. Two guards stood ramrod straight at the threshold. He couldn’t see how many more lurked beyond.

Such a huge entourage?

Shen Yu’s heart skipped a beat.

Moments later, Old Master Zhou entered, clad in a silk Tang suit. He radiated an aura of unspoken authority. His calm yet unnerving gaze swept the room before settling on Shen Yu, seated on the bed.

Waves crashed through Shen Yu’s mind, but his expression stayed composed. To the first non-medical person he’d seen in days, he feigned puzzlement: “Who are you?”

“Zhou Jinsheng’s grandfather.” Old Master Zhou narrowed his eyes and pressed, “What’s your relationship with Zhou Jinsheng?”

Amid a barrage of roaring noises, hazy celestial light flickered in Shen Yu’s mind: muscles tensed taut over him, an embrace clamping him tight, scorching breath, warm blood dripping onto his face, powerful arms trembling as they gripped his back.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Zhou Jinsheng held him close. The breaths and words at his ear grew fainter:

“Don’t be afraid, Shen Yu.”

Truth be told, in that life-or-death instant, Zhou Jinsheng shielding him was hard to ignore. It stirred something. So even taking the risk, Shen Yu felt a twinge of regret in hindsight.

If only he’d been a fraction faster. If his luck had held—not dying outright, but landing in ICU like Zhou Jinsheng now, fate uncertain. Who knew how much favor he could’ve squeezed from the usually tightfisted Zhou Jinsheng.

What a shame.

Shen Yu sighed.

Facing Old Master Zhou’s questioning now, the dejection and sorrow on Shen Yu’s face weren’t faked. “Jinsheng is my friend.”

“Heh.” Old Master Zhou sneered. After the incident, he’d immediately reviewed the surveillance footage. More disappointing than Zhou Jinsheng sheltering someone beneath him was that this person held zero value to Zhou Jinsheng.

Old Master Zhou seethed inwardly and gave Shen Yu no friendly look. His piercing gaze raked him top to bottom. “Whatever your motives, you know the Shen Family’s situation better than most.”

Shen Yu’s eyelid twitched. He lowered his long lashes. “What are the terms?”

Old Master Zhou’s eyes flashed with surprise at Shen Yu’s quick grasp—which swiftly turned to disdain, then vanished.

But dissatisfaction soon resurfaced. The future head of Zhou Corporation couldn’t even read this guy’s intentions?

Pathetic.

Old Master Zhou frowned. He’d have to rethink the succession.

“Leave Shangjing,” Old Master Zhou said gravely. “And I never want to see you in contact with Jinsheng again.”

Shen Yu suddenly recalled Zhou Jinsheng’s half-finished words right before the truck slammed in.

That look on his face—like he was about to confess.

If…

If what?

【Alert—alert—】

007’s voice cut in suddenly, faint and urgent: 【Host… the World Will detected anomalies through the time rift… We can’t stay. We’ll lose the main storyline slot… Please hold your persona. Initiating program…】

Bailing now meant that eight years from now, Zhou Jinsheng—with his mercurial temper—would likely kill him on sight.

But it beat forgetting.

Shen Yu lowered his eyes.

It beat forgetting.

Shen Yu heard his own cold reply:

“Fine.”

Eight years later.

Back on the main plotline, 007 issued the persona task:

【Task: Rescue Protagonist Gong He Qian’s Movie Crisis. Completion: 0%.】

By eleven o’clock sharp, “Xu Shengyang Drunk Driving Causes Hospitalization” had dominated the social-entertainment hot search charts for six straight hours.

One whale falls, and all things thrive. Major news outlets reported and reposted it nonstop. Some dug up dirt on drugs and prostitution—unverified, but public opinion had already convicted him.

Overnight, to safeguard brand images and corporate interests, partners cut ties fast. They paid breach penalties if needed and unilaterally dropped Xu Shengyang. Billboards across cities vanished by morning, soft ads scrubbed from platforms.

Everything tied to this rising star actor evaporated clean.

Ironically, the hardest hit turned out to be the “However, However” production team.

“However, However” was He Qian’s lifeblood. He wrote the script, directed, and bankrolled it. Four years of college passion poured in—every dishwashing buck became film stock or script pages. Sponsors secured, cast locked, venue rented, ceremony held.

All ready—right up to the wire.

Then the male lead imploded.

Sponsors bailed too.

“Fuck—”

He Qian wanted to yank Xu Shengyang from his hospital bed—sick or not—and pummel him three hundred times flat. Rage cooled, his assistant’s nudge reminded him of priorities: terminate the idiot’s contract ASAP.

The rented set sat idle, hemorrhaging cash by the minute. No lead, funds short. Assistant Xiao Zhang clutched the script and timidly asked if they were still shooting.

He Qian seemed calm outwardly, but inside he was frantic and scattered. With no leader, the crew’s morale tanked. He couldn’t let years of sweat burn to ash. Cursing Xu Shengyang’s ancestors one more time, he gritted out: “We shoot!”

Xiao Zhang: “But…”

He Qian shut it down: “No buts. Film the leadless scenes first, patch later. Spread the word.”

Xiao Zhang’s eyes bugged out. This was insane. He dithered, feet glued, words bubbling—until He Qian’s glare and boot sent him flying out the door with them.