Genius Playground

He waited for a long time, but the second hand didn’t even twitch.

All right.

It seemed that in this Virtual World, at this very moment, everything had truly come to a halt—including time itself. The only two people who could exist outside of it were Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue.

Jiang Ran rolled up the male customer’s sleeve and started to unfasten the strap, preparing to swipe the watch.

Even though the time on the watch was currently frozen, having it on him would offer a little more security. He could use it to see when time started moving again.

THUMP!

A small fist thumped against Jiang Ran’s back.

“What are you doing?!”

Cheng Mengxue looked at him reproachfully.

“Why are you stealing?!”

“Can you really call this stealing?”

Jiang Ran spread his hands.

“Time is frozen right now, and who knows when this world will reboot. It’s not a big deal if I take his watch.”

“Besides, I forgot to tell you earlier, this place is basically a Utopia. Most goods are provided for free.”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Cheng Mengxue didn’t understand.

“You still can’t just steal things!”

“Er…”

Jiang Ran gave in.

“Okay, okay.”

That was just the kind of person Cheng Mengxue was—so good-hearted and pure that she had zero tolerance for petty theft, no matter the situation, not even in a dream.

“But I really do need a watch,”

Jiang Ran said bluntly.

“Because some of what’s happening now is beyond my experience. I need to collect some data.”

“If you won’t let me take his watch… then fine. I know a clock shop that gives away watches for free. Let’s go get one there.”

“Hmph!”

Cheng Mengxue huffed lightly.

“That’s more like it! But how will we get there? Are we taking one of those flying motorcycles again?”

“Yep.”

Jiang Ran nodded and walked toward the roadside.

Cheng Mengxue followed behind him.

“By the way, the whole world is in a state of stopped time right now. Even the hands on a watch aren’t moving. Are you sure that flying motorcycle will even work? Don’t you dare drop me halfway there!”

Jiang Ran stopped in his tracks, stumped by her question.

He scratched his head.

“Hmm… I think it should be okay? After all, the flying motorcycles run on electricity. You can see the lights are still on in a lot of the shops, so I think the bikes should work too. What do you think?”

Cheng Mengxue seemed convinced.

“You have a point.”

She nodded.

“I think it should be fine.”

The two of them went to the roadside. Jiang Ran got on a shared flying motorcycle and gently twisted the throttle. The bike gained lift and slowly rose from the ground.

“Look!” “It actually works!”

Both Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue were a little shocked, but their surprise quickly turned into a knowing smile they shared with each other.

“Get on!” “Coming! Giddy-up!”

Amid Cheng Mengxue’s delighted laughter, the flying motorcycle carried their childlike wonder into the sky like something out of a fairy tale. She wrapped her arms around Jiang Ran’s waist, marveling at how wondrous this world was.

“Hey.”

She pressed against Jiang Ran’s back and called out softly.

“Huh?” Jiang Ran turned his head.

Cheng Mengxue bit her lower lip, hesitating.

“If this really isn’t a dream… but a Virtual World…”

She paused.

She summoned her courage and asked the question she had been holding back for so long.

“Then… what’s happened to me in the real world?”

…

Jiang Ran fell silent, not turning back.

Even the flying motorcycle’s speed slowed considerably, as if it had lost power and was just gliding through the air.

After more than a decade as childhood sweethearts, Cheng Mengxue could see right through him. Her voice began to tremble.

“Am I… already dead?”

“No.”

Without any hesitation, the lie came out of Jiang Ran’s mouth like a reflex.

He didn’t know why he had to lie to Cheng Mengxue, but that’s just how the human heart works. Emotion often makes the choice before reason can.

That was why, when Jiang Ran had been explaining the background of this world to her earlier, he had deliberately avoided the parts concerning her.

He hadn’t mentioned the Puppet, the car accident, the Magician, the memory upload…

He originally thought the Virtual World would reboot soon, so he didn’t want to upset Cheng Mengxue in the limited time they had.

“Then I’m…”

Cheng Mengxue frowned.

“Am I in a coma?”

“Something like that,” Jiang Ran said vaguely, still steering the flying motorcycle.

“Will I wake up?”

Cheng Mengxue wasn’t stupid. She was beginning to realize something, and the arms wrapped around Jiang Ran’s waist gradually tightened.

“Can we still… see each other in the real world?”

“Of course we will!”

Jiang Ran forced a faint smile.

“Hey, this Virtual World is just like that! It’s like an online game. Everyone’s just playing inside. When you get tired of it, you can go back anytime!”

“Jiang Ran, don’t lie to me.”

Cheng Mengxue leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder and staring into his eyes.

“You’re the person I trust most in this world. So…”

Her voice was light, yet heavy.

“You absolutely cannot lie to me.”

A silent city. A world where time had stopped.

The little flying motorcycle descended from the sky, parking in front of the clock shop.

Cheng Mengxue looked into Jiang Ran’s eyes, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead.

“We will definitely meet again.”

He turned his head, his gaze serious, and met her eyes.

“I swear.”

“Hee hee!”

Cheng Mengxue’s face instantly lit up with a smile, and she hopped off the back of the flying motorcycle.

“That’s all I needed to hear!”

She stretched and looked around at the shopping street.

“You’ve been like this since we were kids. You always keep your word. You do whatever you promise someone you’ll do.”

“Remember that time when we were little? I fell into the river, and you saved me, almost dying yourself?”

Cheng Mengxue walked up, lifted the hair at the nape of Jiang Ran’s neck, and rubbed the small, bluish mark where a pencil had once stabbed him. Her gaze deepened.

“Later, I asked you why you jumped in without a moment’s hesitation to push me to the shore, even though you couldn’t swim…”

“You probably don’t even remember now, but your answer back then was so childish!”

Jiang Ran shook his head.

“I really don’t remember.”

He only remembered saving her, not that she had asked him that question.

“What did I say?” he asked, curious.

“Hehe…”

Recalling those little moments from the past, Cheng Mengxue couldn’t help but let out a sweet smile.

“You said… ‘I promised my parents I’d protect you properly.’”

Jiang Ran let out a soft laugh and lowered his head.

“That’s right. My parents said you were small and might get picked on at school, so they told me to look out for you.”

“But I don’t think it was a big deal. Any parents would tell their son to look after a girl, whether they’re childhood sweethearts, neighbors, or like siblings.”

However, Cheng Mengxue shook her head.

“It’s not the same,”

she said softly.

“A lot of people would just treat that as a polite thing to say. Especially kids, they wouldn’t really take that kind of instruction to heart.”

“But you did it. You did what you said you would. You keep every single promise you make.”

“So… from that day on, I’ve always trusted you unconditionally. I believe whatever you say, and I take every story you tell me as truth.”

“That includes right now.”

Cheng Mengxue put her hands behind her back and walked to the front of the flying motorcycle, smiling at Jiang Ran.

“Actually, I’ve already guessed that a lot of things aren’t normal. This Virtual World, my own condition, the fact that… this might all just be an ethereal dream.”

“But with your promise, I won’t let my mind run wild! I trust you more than I trust myself!”

She held out her right fist, offering a fist bump to Jiang Ran.

“So I’ll be a little selfish, a little greedy, and truly hope for the day I can wake up again.”

“And I hope even more that when I wake up in the real world, the first person I see…”

“…is still you.”