Chapter 19: Immersed in the Scene

The snow continued to fall, and the shouts still echoed. Everything that had just happened felt like a trivial, insignificant interlude. Merchants and passersby carried on with their lives, while only Xiao Lin’s time seemed frozen, as if caught in a countdown.

He had been tossed onto a pile of snow by the roadside. That snow had melted and refrozen repeatedly, forming a layer of frost far colder than fresh snow. Even though Xiao Lin was dazed from the beating, he was painfully aware of this and struggled to crawl away. Yet, his hands were too weak; after clawing at the snow for a while, all he managed to grasp was a handful of cold, unforgiving ice.

He gave up struggling and curled up into a small ball once more. At that moment, a voice, seemingly from his own thoughts, whispered: “If someone picks me up, I won’t feel cold anymore…”

Reading this, Xiao Lin’s skin prickled all over. No. What on earth was the production team doing? Was this really how they intended to portray his character? Characters might be developed with nuance, but not to the point of awkwardness.

He glanced at the live comments scrolling across the screen.

“Poor little junior disciple.”

“Little Qilin, come into mama’s arms.”

“It’s so heartbreaking to watch…”

Many comments expressed sympathy like these. That would have been bearable, but there were others:

“He only took a few steamed buns, why won’t they let him eat?”

“Funny, so thieves have rights now?”

“He’s starving to death; what’s wrong with taking a few buns in an emergency?”

“Even if he really was stealing, why did they have to beat him so badly? He’s just a child!”

The comments sparked quite a heated debate.

Xiao Lin frowned as he watched. This was clearly a controversial scene. If the story would later include a twist to smooth things over, it might be acceptable. But…

He fast-forwarded through the rest. The result was Shen Wuya’s arrival, awakening him and asking if he hated those who had beaten him.

Xiao Lin watched helplessly as he launched into a grand speech about justice, his frown slowly easing.

Not because he was satisfied, but because he had no other choice.

Could the production team really not see how awkward and ill-timed it was for a starving street urchin to suddenly spout a lengthy life philosophy? It wasn’t that it couldn’t be said, but it had to be properly set up—not sprung on him out of nowhere.

It felt like the justice was being forced onto him just for the sake of portraying his righteousness.

First shoot the arrow, then draw the target—nothing new under the sun.

Of course, this might just be his one-sided view. Maybe other viewers found it quite good?

Yet the slowly growing popularity number was the best evidence. The audience was clearly not pleased with this episode. Sympathy came, but it ended there.

Xiao Lin could understand the production team’s failure in characterization. After all, he was never meant to exist in their minds. He was simply an aftereffect, forcibly altering their memories.

How could someone who knew nothing of his past possibly portray it well?

Still…

“This won’t do…” he murmured.

Such a precious collection of memories could not just be wrapped up so hastily.

Xiao Lin opened the in-game shop.

[Special: Memory Collection]

[Effect: Immerse yourself and create an episode of your own memories]

[Price: 50,000 popularity points]

“Purchase.”

He instantly entered a meditative state, a feeling reminiscent of when he first entered the Sword Inquiry Stone flooding his heart.

Before he opened his eyes, a chill swept through him. Familiar shouts sounded in his ears.

But the warmth of human life, once removed from the screen and experienced firsthand, was far less pleasant.

Yet Xiao Lin remained calm.

A memory is a memory because even if he died here, it would not affect reality. Retaining the senses was only to help him better play the role. Some physical actions simply could not be faked.

He even briefly considered using this memory collection to freeload “enlightenment” later.

But he quickly dismissed the idea. The memory collection was meant to be made for the audience. What kind of nonsense would watching a bored enlightenment be?

He relaxed his tightly curled body. His small face, smeared with blood and dust, showed a hint of comfort.

He thought quietly: “So warm…”

“???” came the comments.

“Don’t ask questions, he’s hypothermic.”

“Where’s Shen Wuya? Someone save him!”

“Little Qilin, don’t fall asleep!”

The next moment, a figure suddenly appeared before the nearly unconscious Xiao Lin. He had appeared out of nowhere.

Yet, none of the passersby glanced in his direction, as if he did not exist.

Immediately, Xiao Lin felt a genuine warmth flowing through his body. The cold, hunger, and pain all vanished without a trace.

He propped his small hands on the icy snow, slowly sitting up and staring blankly at the figure before him.

“Are you… a celestial being?”

Shen Wuya’s voice was gentle: “You could say that.”

Hearing this, Xiao Lin’s expression grew even more astonished. As if he suddenly remembered something, he hurriedly scrambled to his feet but stumbled, nearly falling again.

Shen Wuya instinctively reached out to steady him, but Xiao Lin managed to regain his balance alone.

He clasped his hands in a rough imitation of a formal salute: “Thank you, celestial being, for saving my life.”

His gesture was obviously unrefined, but Shen Wuya curiously asked, “Where did you learn that?”

Xiao Lin looked thoughtful but racked his brain with no answer.

His head shook like a rattle drum: “Celestial being, I forgot.”

In truth, Xiao Lin had not yet decided what his past identity should be. Since that was the case, better to keep it mysterious and leave a cliffhanger.

He could buy another memory collection to shoot later when needed.

The next moment, a large hand gently rested on Xiao Lin’s head.

“Memory wiped clean, huh…” Shen Wuya murmured.

The audience heard his thoughts emerge.

It seemed this boy he had found carried an unknown past.

“Forget it for now. One day, you’ll recover your memories.”

Xiao Lin nodded vaguely.

Shen Wuya smiled softly.

Indeed.

Even if born into a noble family and versed in etiquette, how could one truly understand that “cause and effect must be repaid”?

Suddenly, Shen Wuya said, “I think you stole buns, which led to the crowd beating you and tossing you here.”

He gazed deeply into Xiao Lin’s face, as if trying to see through to his inner thoughts.

But Xiao Lin’s first reaction was not anger; rather, he shyly said, “Celestial being, you saw everything?”

“Of course,” Shen Wuya chuckled. “If I hadn’t seen it, would I have come to save you? If I left you here any longer, you’d be a corpse frozen in the snow.”

Xiao Lin said nothing but scratched his head, his face growing more embarrassed: “Heh heh.”

Shen Wuya almost seemed surprised: “You don’t hate them?”

“Hate who?”

Xiao Lin paused, then realized: “Why should I hate them?”

“They beat you half to death.”

“But I was the one who stole first,” Xiao Lin looked into Shen Wuya’s eyes, as if gauging his approval.

But how could he tell anything from such a powerful man?

He could only follow his heart: “I was starving, so I became a thief—there’s some justification. But the vendor was angry and furious to be stolen from, so teaching me a lesson was also perfectly reasonable.”