Chapter Thirty-One: Preparations

After Li Daoran woke up, he washed his face and stretched lazily. The world was shattered; the time in Daoran’s world froze at that very second. Upon waking, Li Daoran habitually ended his livestream, used the bathroom, washed up, and then opened his bedroom door, picked up his chopsticks, and started eating the feast that had been prepared for him in advance. All the meals in Daoran’s world were fast food, and only the cuisine from Azure Blue Star could truly satisfy his palate.

Today’s meal was a whole platter of plump, air-shipped river crabs. To avoid any accidental injuries while cracking them open, the crabs were always fully prepared in advance, with only the choicest parts selected. What was left was a plate of golden crab roe and neatly picked crab meat. There was also a dish of braised pork belly with preserved vegetables, a plate of garlic-topped lettuce, and a bowl of rice.

Li Daoran wolfed down his meal. After wiping his mouth, he let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back on the sofa.

Chen Ming smiled and asked, “Full now?”

Li Daoran nodded, patted his round belly, and said, “My stomach’s sticking out after just half a month. I’ve put on weight—maybe that’s not so good?”

Chen Ming nodded. “It’s not ideal. All you do is eat and sleep, sleep and eat. Eventually, something’s bound to go wrong. We’ve already got a plan for that, but let’s get through this stage first.”

Li Daoran nodded. “Alright, whatever you say, I’ll do. I’ll follow your lead.”

Charles tapped his cane on the floor. “This stage won’t be easy. If we’re not careful, all might come to nothing.”

Natasha had changed her look today, dressed in a purple cheongsam with light makeup, her whole aura transformed. She tapped her lips with a finger, trouble written on her face. “I’m afraid we might not have enough time.”

David, sitting to the side, was tapping away at his laptop. “Communication is still a big issue. It’s untested—whether it’ll succeed is still up in the air.”

Tam continued his silent vigil by the door, not joining in the discussion.

“There’s not much time, that’s true, but as long as communication works and Daoran pulls his weight, it’s not impossible to pull this off,” Chen Ming said, leaning against the wall.

“Communication? What do you mean?” Li Daoran seemed to realize something and hurried to confirm if it was what he thought.

Chen Ming nodded. “Exactly what you’re thinking—establishing communication with your counterpart in Daoran’s world.”

David brought up a screen, connected it to his computer, and played a short video with his own commentary.

“As you can see, these are your brainwave frequencies when you’re in Daoran’s world. They differ from those of people who are merely sleeping. Your brainwave fluctuations are even greater than those of most alert individuals, indicating you’re not just sleeping but somehow synchronizing with your other self in Daoran’s world, which is what allows you to cross over. Only when your counterpart sleeps do your brainwaves enter a sleep state.”

“And through extensive human trials, we’ve managed to speak to people in their dreams without waking them. The results were promising—about eighty percent could hear our voices using certain low-frequency, low-volume methods in their sleep.

Of course, your case is different. We don’t know what effect this might have on Daoran’s world or on you, but we’ve already identified the proper frequency band to match your brainwaves. If our hypothesis is correct, we should be able to communicate with you in Daoran’s world. To that end, we’ve prepared voice packages from each of the five of us, or do you want someone else’s voice? Ha ha.”

“Then let’s start testing right away! What are we waiting for?” Li Daoran said excitedly.

Charles tried to calm him. “We’re not ready yet. This isn’t a decision to make lightly.”

Chen Ming nodded. “As I said, we’re not sure how this will impact Daoran’s world or you. What if all the beings in that world hear our signal? This would be the first time humankind sends a signal to Daoran’s world, the first act of interference apart from you. It carries tremendous significance and risk. Think carefully before you decide. We’ll wait.”

Li Daoran, seasoned by his experiences, quickly made up his mind. “I agree. Go ahead and prepare. I want to see my parents. I haven’t seen them in so long. Are they well?”

Chen Ming nodded. “No problem. We’ll arrange it right away.”

The five of them left the room, leaving Li Daoran alone.

Before long, Chen Ming brought in Li Daoran’s parents, then quietly left and closed the door behind him.

There was no need for melodrama; neither Li Daoran nor his parents were sentimental people.

Li Aiguo and Li Xiuying glanced around the spacious room. Then Li Xiuying began tidying up, cleaning the room and clearing away Li Daoran’s leftovers from the table.

“Mom, no need—someone else will clean up,” Li Daoran tried to persuade her to rest.

“Oh, what do you know, child,” Li Xiuying said, dodging his hand.

“Just let her tidy up. Don’t you know your own mother? She can’t sit still. You sit down, I have a few words for you,” Li Aiguo said, straightening his posture and looking serious.

Li Daoran sat up, facing his father.

“You, you’re precious now. The Li family can’t count on you to carry on the family line. Your mother and I, thanks to you, are considered important people now. We can’t leave this place and spend our days with nothing to do, so we’ve been thinking of following national policy and giving you a few more siblings.” As he spoke, Li Aiguo’s face flushed.

Li Daoran rolled his eyes. “Is that all? Haven’t you talked to me about this before? If you want more kids, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

“That was then. We were just pushing you. But ever since you brought back that medicine, I feel better and better. Now we have nothing but time. Before, we were too busy with work to think about it, but now, well, there’s just too much free time.”

Li Xiuying shot him a glare. “What are you saying? Do you really think you’re being held prisoner here with all this food and lodging?”

Li Aiguo shrank back and hurriedly explained, “No, no, it’s great here, but...”

He trailed off with a sigh.

Li Daoran fell silent. He knew his father was the type who liked to wander, to have drinks with friends, but now he was confined to this small base, surrounded by strangers. It must be suffocating.

“I’ll talk to Chen Ming, get you two sent home,” Li Daoran said with a sigh.

“Nonsense!” Li Aiguo stood up, angry.

“Sit down!” Li Xiuying said, hands on her hips.

Li Aiguo sat down, sullen.

Li Xiuying turned to Li Daoran, speaking earnestly. “Don’t blame your father for getting worked up. He’s a typical son of China—nothing special, but loyal to his country. In his mind, those foreigners are up to no good. If we left and got kidnapped, what would you do?

Sure, they wouldn’t dare harm you or us, but what if they forced you to relocate elsewhere?

And there are some truly evil people out there, people who want the whole world to perish, who envy you, hate you—what if they killed us? Here, we’re at ease, and you can rest easy too.

You have to look at the bigger picture. You’re not just an ordinary person anymore. As for your dad, he’s just venting. Deep down, he’s proud of you. He spends all day watching your livestreams—no matter how much we try to stop him. When you’re exhausted, he even wipes away tears in secret. Don’t worry about us.

Like your father said, we’ll keep working hard, maybe even add a couple of new players to the family and pass the time.”