201: Chapter 201 My World

Chapter 201: My World

Fang Cheng slowly opened his eyes.

In an instant, his consciousness receded like a tide, surging out from the illusory Memory Palace.

As his pupils flickered, various images carrying information still seemed to linger.

In the bedroom, bright and warm sunlight spilled onto the red pine wood floor.

On the old desk by the bed, a dictionary lay open, its pages slightly curled.

A fountain pen, an alarm clock, and a desk lamp sat quietly to the side, reflecting a dim luster.

Fang Cheng blinked, his gaze subconsciously scanning his surroundings.

For a moment, he was somewhat unable to tell whether he was still in the Memory Palace or in his actual bedroom.

He sniffed hard, and instantly, countless complex scents flooded his nose.

The fragrance of wood, the smell of ink on paper, the mixed odor of sour sweat and detergent on the bedding...

And the smell of dust kicked up by the wind.

Fang Cheng gently closed the dictionary and looked at the floral curtains fluttering in the breeze.

Then, placing both hands on the windowsill, he leaned out to look outside.

Downstairs, smoke curled up from the breakfast stalls, and the aroma of meat buns and deep-fried dough sticks wafted through the air.

Several office workers in suits and leather shoes, their mouths stuffed with food, rushed toward the bus stop.

Neighboring vegetable vendor Old Zhao pedaled his tricycle, slowly passing by.

Pedestrians came and went on the street, some fast, some slow, each heading in their own direction.

Looking at this vivid and lively scene, Fang Cheng's eyes flickered slightly, and he murmured to himself:

"It's the real world, indeed..."

He then sat back in his chair and exhaled softly.

The "Memory Palace" he had just constructed was simply too realistic.

It had actually caused him to have an illusion, almost deceiving his consciousness.

Thinking back carefully, however, it was only reasonable.

After all, the visual Materials he used to build the palace all came from his real-life bedroom.

It was almost a one-to-one replica, not even sparing the finest dust or the marks on the walls and desk.

If the "Memory Palace" built by ordinary people was merely an empty illusion,

then the palace built by Fang Cheng could be said to have been personally constructed and decorated brick by brick, board by board, and plaster by plaster.

Furthermore, every piece of "building material" contained his own life memories and all sorts of information left behind by over a decade of living.

Having spent so much effort, the effect of recreating it in his mind was naturally extraordinary.

Of course, if one were to distinguish carefully, there were still obvious differences.

This was mainly reflected in the sensory stimulation and response to the surrounding environment.

"Speed Reading," after all, was just a skill for reading information, achieving a scanning and imaging effect through visual functions.

The reason Fang Cheng could still feel tactile sensations, smells, and sounds similar to reality in the Memory Palace

was entirely because, during the construction process, he had amplified his five senses through Meditation, integrating partial information from the other four senses into it as decorative Materials.

However, this information was only incidental after all.

It could not be meticulously and flawlessly recreated like the visual Materials obtained using the "Speed Reading" skill.

At this thought, a sudden whim struck Fang Cheng.

What if he could truly integrate all the information perceived by his five senses into the Memory Palace?

And then continue to expand and extend it—from a room, to a building, to a street, and then to an entire city.

Wouldn't that be equivalent to creating "My World"?

With such a vast workload, even if the human brain were developed to one hundred percent, it probably wouldn't be able to carry enough information and Materials.

Fang Cheng shook his head inwardly, putting aside this overly absurd idea.

Actually, the fact that he was able to complete the prototype of a "Memory Palace" in such a short time was mainly due to his extreme familiarity with his home environment.

After all, he had lived in this house for a long time.

If it were a completely unfamiliar place, it wouldn't be so easy.

Moreover,

an imagined "Memory Palace" could easily fade, collapse, and disappear as it was slowly forgotten over time.

It required the builder to frequently consolidate and reinforce it, continuously investing in maintenance.

This was also a significant mental burden.

*Gurgle—*

While he was lost in thought, his stomach suddenly rumbled.

Fang Cheng suddenly came to his senses.

After obtaining the skill effect of "Memory Palace," he had been so immersed in the wonderful feeling of creating a world

that he had actually forgotten to eat breakfast!

He glanced at the alarm clock on the desk; the displayed time was 9:28.

In a little while, it would be almost noon.

Fang Cheng immediately pulled himself together, got up, and dressed.

He prepared to go out to the supermarket to buy supplies, and then come back to cook a hearty feast to make up for his body's energy consumption.

After eating and drinking his fill, he would go to the hospital in the afternoon to visit his grandfather.

...

Xiguan District.

The afternoon sun shone through the windows of the hospital corridor, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow.

Two medical staff members quickly passed by pushing a gurney, repeatedly calling out, "Make way, please."

Fang Cheng stepped aside against the wall. After letting them pass, he walked toward his grandfather's ward.

The door was ajar, and he pushed it open gently.

The warmth of the air conditioner, along with the chatter of his relatives, rushed over him.

"Oh, our Fang family's great scholar is here!"

His aunt, Fang Yu, was sharp-eyed. She was the first to spot Fang Cheng and immediately stepped forward to warmly grab his hand, pulling with such force as if to express her affection after a long absence.

Having been sent abroad by her company to work, she only had time to return to Dongdu for the Spring Festival holiday this year.

She had originally planned to visit his home, but the visit fell through because the Tubular Building was sealed off.

She had only called out a few greetings from far below, asked the police to leave the gifts at the entrance of the stairwell, and then drove back.

Having heard from his mother that his grandfather had just undergone surgery for cancer, she had specially rushed to the hospital today with her husband to visit.

"A-Cheng, how is your residential building? Did anything go wrong?"

"I didn't notice when I went to your place the day before yesterday, but looking closely now, your build is much sturdier than before. I almost didn't recognize you."

Fang Yu was very quick-tongued, rattling off words of concern in rapid succession.

"Everything is fine. The lockdown was lifted yesterday afternoon. It's mainly because I've been cooped up at home these past few days; I feel like I've gained a few pounds."

Fang Cheng replied with a smile, then looked at the weak but kind elderly man lying on the hospital bed.

And his mother, who was sitting by the bedside peeling an apple.

"Grandfather, Mom."

After calling out to them, Fang Cheng looked around the ward.

This was a private VIP ward, spacious and bright.

A comfortable large bed sat in the center, equipped with various user-friendly appliances and facilities.

Against the wall, there was also a simple sofa and coffee table for visitors to rest.

Overall, it looked comfortable and warm, allowing patients to recuperate in peace.

Of course, the daily hospitalization fee was bound to be high.

However, now that the family was well-off, there was absolutely no need to worry about this small expense.

Aside from his aunt and uncle, several other relatives from his grandfather's side had also come to visit today.

Some worked in Dongdu themselves, while others had specially traveled from the countryside. With everyone gathered together, it was quite lively.

Grandfather Li Zhenhua opened his slightly cloudy eyes and looked at Fang Cheng, taking a moment to recognize his grandson's face.

"Ah, A-Cheng is here?"

Then, a smile appeared on his face, and he propped himself up with his arms, trying to sit up in bed.

Fang Cheng hurriedly stepped forward and supported him with both hands.

"Grandfather, your body hasn't fully recovered yet. Just lie down and rest, don't move around."

"I'm fine. I've been resting for a week already. The doctor said that appropriate activity after surgery can promote the recovery of digestive function."

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Grandfather Li Zhenhua waved his hand, refusing to admit he was old:

"Besides, when your grandfather was young, he was a militia member and went up the mountain alone to catch wild boars. My body is sturdier than many young lads."

As he spoke, he continued to look Fang Cheng over carefully, nodding slightly with a smile.

He seemed highly satisfied with his grandson's current strong and robust build, finally shedding his former sickly and frail image.

Fang Cheng chatted with his grandfather for a few words, then looked at the other relatives, politely greeting everyone.

"This young lad, A-Cheng, is really growing more and more handsome."

A distant relative called Second Aunt responded with a chuckle.

Then, she changed the subject and continued, "Do you still remember A-Li, who lives next door to your grandfather? She's about your age and very pretty. How about I introduce you to her some other day?"

Her eyes were full of eagerness, as if she had already settled this marriage.

Once the chatter started, the other relatives also chimed in, steering the conversation toward work and matchmaking.

Surrounded in the middle, Fang Cheng wore a polite smile, feeling quite helpless in his heart as he could only respond to them one by one.

Grandfather Li Zhenhua leaned against the bed, smiling at the scene before him, and then shouted at the top of his lungs:

"My grandson is too honest; he hasn't even held a girl's hand. If you keep nagging him, he'll want to find a hole to crawl into."

Although his frame was still thin, his spirit was highly energetic, showing not a trace of his pre-surgery sickly appearance.

It was clear that his post-surgery recovery was indeed going very smoothly.

Hearing this, everyone burst into laughter, finally pausing their chatter.

Li Biyun was busy serving fruits and pouring tea for the relatives.

From time to time, she helped her son entertain them, tactfully diverting the overly sharp questions.

Just when Fang Cheng felt he was about to be drowned by his relatives' warm words and was struggling to cope,

suddenly, the ward door was pushed open with a creak.

A middle-aged man wearing a black leather jacket and a mustache on his upper lip pushed the door open and walked in.

"Sis, I asked the doctor. Dad should be able to get his stitches removed the day after tomorrow, and we can handle the discharge procedures then."

He spoke in a loud voice, walking with a posture that seemed to carry a whirlwind.

It was none other than Li Dingjian, who had gone off to do business and hadn't shown his face for a long time.

Turning to look at the scene in the room, he caught sight of Fang Cheng.

Seeing through his nephew's embarrassed state at a glance, he waved his hand:

"A-Cheng, you haven't had lunch yet, right? Come on, let's go grab a bite together."

Hearing this, Fang Cheng felt as if he had grabbed a lifeline. He immediately got up nimbly and followed his uncle to escape the lively ward.

...

On the west side of the inpatient department's annex building, there was a Gourmet food court.

Various food stalls were orderly lined up along the venue, offering plenty of choices.

There were staple foods like noodles, dumplings, and rice, as well as stir-fries, clay pot dishes, wontons, malatang, and various pastries and snacks—literally everything one could want.

In the middle area, tables and chairs were arranged in an orderly fashion, where many people chose to enjoy their food after ordering.

The air was filled with the mixed aroma of food and cooking smoke, diluting the unpleasant smell of disinfectant in the hospital.

Fang Cheng and Li Dingjian also sat at a table, ordering four stir-fried dishes and a few bottles of beer.

It was now past one in the afternoon.

Business in the food court was still booming, and the seating even appeared rather crowded, with the clamor of people's voices everywhere.

In a place like a hospital, it was quite difficult to maintain a normal daily routine.

To be honest, before coming to the hospital, Fang Cheng had already had a "hearty meal" and wasn't hungry.

Li Dingjian also just wanted to find a place to catch up properly.

Thus, while eating casually, the two chatted about his grandfather's condition.

According to the doctor's recent check-up reports, his grandfather should be able to be discharged before New Year's Eve, allowing the family to reunite for the Spring Festival.

With his father recovering smoothly and the financial pressure gone, Li Dingjian seemed to be in a very good mood.

"Come on, A-Cheng, let's have a drink."

After drinking a few glasses of wine, his face was flushed, his expression animated, and his desire to talk gradually grew stronger.

"In a couple of days, once your uncle finishes the work at hand, I'll take you to Dongdu's best Peace Hotel to try some Western food and experience the life of high society..."

As he raised his hand to pour the wine, the Rolex on his wrist peeked out from his sleeve.

The dial was a deep, dark blue, and the strap shimmered with fine golden light.

Inadvertently, a low-key luxury was revealed.

Fang Cheng cast a curious glance.

It seemed his uncle had been living quite comfortably recently.

Taking advantage of the alcohol kicking in, he spoke up and asked:

"Uncle, what kind of business are you actually doing?"

Li Dingjian's hand holding the wine glass paused, his eyes darting quickly, and then he burst out laughing:

"Ah, it's actually just some import and export trade business. There are plenty of tricks to it."

"You're still young; you wouldn't understand even if I told you. Just focus on your studies for now, and your uncle will take you places in the future!"

Seeing that Fang Cheng's eyes were still full of doubt, he took a sip of wine and deliberately explained a few more words:

"This line of work has high profits but also high risks. You have to deal with both the underworld and the authorities, matching wits and courage. If you make one slip-up, the goods might get held up, and your cash flow will break..."

Speaking up to this point, he tilted his head back and drained the entire glass, a carefree smile appearing on his face:

"Fortunately, heaven lent me a hand. Who would have thought that after being down on my luck for half my life, I, Li, would finally succeed in earning my first pot of gold."

Then, Li Dingjian paused and lowered his voice, saying:

"You and your mom can rest assured. The business I'm doing is absolutely as legitimate as it gets, completely open and aboveboard."

"And once I've made this quick money, I won't continue doing it in the future. To be honest, if it weren't for the fact that I can't publicize it, the Dongdu Municipal Government would have to award me a Good Citizen Award..."

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly. His smile was like night and day compared to the past, clearly becoming much more confident and composed.

Fang Cheng nodded and did not press further.

From what his uncle's words implied, it should be a gray-area business between illegal and legitimate.

In a crowded public place like this, it was obviously not suitable to probe deeper.

The two continued to drink, eat, and catch up.

The wall-mounted large color TV installed in the dining area was currently playing a news program.

The content, however, involved the "terrorist incident" that occurred at Renan Hospital that night, which drew pointing and discussion from many who had been present at the time.

Various noisy voices drifted into Fang Cheng's ears from time to time.

Among them, two unusually familiar voices suddenly caught his attention.