1. Homecoming
"Look, everyone—the space is collapsing!"
A panicked shout rose from the crowd in the Player Hall. People looked up in horror to see the Infinite Space slowly disintegrating.
"Did that bastard Main God die or just run away?!"
Screams erupted as tendrils of black smoke coiled around certain players, dragging them into the abyss beneath their feet.
The players scrambled away from the creeping black mist. Without their systems or skills, they were no different from ordinary people.
You Jiu noticed something strange—the smoke seemed alive, targeting only specific individuals. Others who accidentally brushed against it remained unharmed.
"Stay calm!" You Jiu called out. "The smoke isn’t attacking everyone!"
Though stripped of their tools and abilities, the players had survived countless trials. At You Jiu’s warning, they quickly steadied themselves.
"Those being dragged away… they’re all notorious killers who took pleasure in slaughtering others in the dungeons," Huaba muttered, stepping back as a player barely two meters away was swallowed by the mist, his screams fading into silence.
When a person abandons their humanity and revels in cruelty, they cease to be human.
The players watched in stunned silence as the black mist consumed the last of the shrieking victims.
Then, cracks split the sky—each revealing a different world beyond.
"That’s my home!"
A player pointed at one of the rifts, his voice trembling with joy. Before anyone could react, he vanished through it.
"Over there—that’s my hometown!" another shouted, disappearing just as quickly.
One by one, players recognized their worlds and vanished. The hall grew emptier.
"We can go home?" Huaba found her own world in the fractures. She stared greedily at the glimpse of home before turning back to her companions.
Their eyes met—joy and sorrow intertwined.
This farewell was forever.
"Take care of yourselves," Peng was the first to speak, his eyes red-rimmed. "Before I left, my mom made braised pork for dinner. I should go home."
"Stay safe," Huaba blinked back tears. "Live well, all of you."
"Goodbye, Ba-Ba." Peng smiled—the first and last time he’d ever called her that.
After Peng disappeared, Da Chang and his younger brother left too. Little Rou hugged Huaba tightly. "Goodbye, Xiao Hua."
Alone now, Huaba laughed through her tears.
Though they’d never meet again, knowing her friends were alive and well in their own worlds was enough.
Soon, only the Anti-Main God Alliance remained.
"Why haven’t you left?" You Jiu approached Brother Hu, his usual arrogance gone. "The space is almost gone. You can’t stay."
"I’m waiting for Sister Juan," Brother Hu gazed at the rifts overhead. "She hasn’t come back yet."
"She might not return," You Jiu sighed. "Count the rifts—they match the number of people left."
Brother Hu’s shoulders slumped. "She… doesn’t want to go home?"
"Not everyone has someone waiting for them," You Jiu said gently. "Besides, Sister Juan loves Brother Chao’s world."
"But I didn’t even get to say goodbye properly," Brother Hu mumbled. Then he brightened. "Still, if she’s happy there, that’s what matters. With Brother Chao’s protection, she’ll have a great life."
"Go on," You Jiu glanced at the vanishing space. "It’s time to go home."
"See you around. You’re not so bad, actually." Brother Hu grinned and disappeared.
You Jiu snorted. He lingered until Qi Shi had left too, leaving him alone in the emptiness.
"Guess Wang Xiaojuan really isn’t coming back."
"Goodbye."
The Infinite Space, which had imprisoned countless players, faded from existence.
When Brother Hu opened his eyes again, he stood outside his apartment building.
"Liu Xiaohu! I sent you to buy soy sauce, not laze around!" His mother’s voice thundered from above. "No lunch for you if you don’t hurry up!"
"Coming, Mom!"
Brother Hu took off running. As he patted his pockets, he felt something stiff—a photograph.
In it, Sister Juan wore a party hat, flashing a peace sign with a radiant smile. Beside her stood Brother Chao, Su Chenzhu, and many strangers.
She looked so happy.
Knowing she was living well—that was enough.
2. Gifts
"Su Chenzhu…"
"Auntie, just call me Xiao Su."
Su Chenzhu sat rigidly on the sofa, hands neatly on his knees like a kindergarten student vying for a gold star.
"Xiao Su," Chao Yin relented, eyeing the mountain of gift boxes. "You’ve brought too much."
She sidestepped the pile to hand him a fruit platter.
"Thank you, Auntie." Su Chenzhu stood to accept it with both hands.
"No need for formalities." Chao Yin shot Chao Musheng a glare—why was he just grinning instead of helping?
"Sit down. We’re not big on etiquette here," Chao Musheng tugged Su Chenzhu back onto the couch and stole a strawberry from the platter. "What did you even buy?"
"Just… ordinary things," Su Chenzhu fretted. Had he overdone it? "Did I cause trouble for Uncle and Auntie?"
"They’re worried you spent too much," Chao Musheng popped the strawberry into Su Chenzhu’s mouth. "Mom, come open these. I wanna see what’s inside."
"Rude! You don’t open gifts in front of guests!" Chao Yin swatted his arm.
Su Chenzhu silently rubbed the spot she’d hit.
"Su Chenzhu isn’t a guest," Chao Musheng grinned. "Open them! I’m curious too."
"Auntie." Su Chenzhu picked up a box and placed it in Chao Yin’s lap. "This is a set of pink diamonds I collected. Do you like them?"
If not, he also had rubies, emeralds, and jade.
Chao Yin reluctantly opened it.
"Wow!" Chao Musheng tore into another box. "Mom, look at this brooch—it’s dazzling!"
“It’s not just shiny—this is a rare diamond brooch from the royal collection of the last century.” Chao Yin carefully held the box. “Chenzhu, this gift is too extravagant. Please take it back.”
“Auntie, I grew up alone without any elder women in my family. Besides you, I don’t know who else I could give these things to.” Su Chenzhu lowered his eyes, looking both lonely and pitiful. “You’re Chao’s mother, which makes you the most important elder in my life. I hope you won’t disdain these gifts.”
No other elders?
An orphan?
Chao Yin clutched the gift box, regret washing over her. How could she have touched on such a painful subject?
She really was too thoughtless.
When Father Chao emerged from the kitchen, he found the three of them sitting cross-legged on the floor, unwrapping gifts with beaming smiles, utterly delighted.
“Dad, come join us!” Chao Musheng waved him over. “We’ll eat after we finish opening these.”
Father Chao hesitated—wasn’t this a bit impolite?
But the moment he saw the rare antique book in Chao Musheng’s hands, he untied his apron and squeezed into the circle.
The golden retriever, freeloading as usual, rolled happily among the gift boxes, a pet toy from Su Chenzhu clamped in its mouth.
This human had manners. The pup approved.
Another blissful day for the dog.
To Su Chenzhu’s surprise, the interrogation and tests he’d braced for never came. Instead, he spent the evening unwrapping gifts with Chao’s family, sharing a meal, watching TV together, and being herded off to wash up and sleep—just like Chao.
“The room next to Chao’s has always been empty. We didn’t know your taste in bedsheets, so we decorated it according to Chao’s preferences.” Father Chao placed two red envelopes in Su Chenzhu’s hands. “It’s an old tradition in Chao Family Bay—when a child brings their lover home, the elders give red envelopes. You can’t refuse. To refuse would mean rejecting our goodwill.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” Su Chenzhu accepted the envelopes, his cheeks flushing despite being the formidable CEO of Kunlun Group.
“No need for formalities among family.” Father Chao then pulled out a key. “This is for the front door. You and Chao are welcome home anytime.”
The key gleamed under the light, freshly cut.
Su Chenzhu clenched it tightly. He now had a key to Chao’s home.
“Rest early.” Father Chao patted his shoulder warmly. “See you tomorrow.”
“Did you deliver everything?” Chao Yin sat on the bed, setting her phone aside the moment Father Chao returned. “Is Chenzhu happy with the room?”
“Don’t worry. We gave the red envelopes, and the key Sheng asked us to prepare was handed over.” Father Chao sat beside her. “That boy is our son’s beloved. I’d never let him feel unwelcome here.”
“Good.” Chao Yin yawned. “As parents, we can’t let our children down.”
“Chenzhu.” Chao Musheng slipped into Su Chenzhu’s room and found him staring dazedly at the red envelopes and key. Curious, he sidled up. “How much did my parents put in the envelopes?”
“I don’t know.” Su Chenzhu shook his head, too overwhelmed to have checked yet.
“Then let’s count together.” Chao Musheng flopped onto the bed, pulling Su Chenzhu down with him.
Something so childish, yet Su Chenzhu treated it with utmost seriousness.
“This one has 10,001 yuan, and the other has 9,999.” Chao Musheng tipped out a bank card from one envelope, its password written on the back.
“10,001 means ‘one in ten thousand’—they’re praising you. 9,999 is a wish for us to last ‘forever.’ My parents are quite poetic.” Chao Musheng laughed, rolling across the bed before handing the card to Su Chenzhu. “No idea how much is in there, but since it’s from them, spend it however you like. No need to hand it over to me.”
“Chao… does this mean your parents have accepted me?” Su Chenzhu traced the key, his eyes shimmering with joy like starlight.
“Of course.” Chao Musheng cupped his face and planted a loud kiss on his lips. “You’re wonderful. How could they not?”
Su Chenzhu pulled him into a tight embrace.
The best person in the world was now in his arms.
At 11 p.m., those on Su Chenzhu’s friends list noticed a new post: a photo of four clinking glasses.
[Su Chenzhu: All I want is to be with you, forever.]
