Shenhao's Journey to Myriad Worlds

If there is really one thing in the heavens and worlds that can exist forever, then it should be death itself...

When life comes to an end and you come to it, it is hard for you not to crawl at its feet and set off a storm for its profundity and eternity.

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Few people can muster up the courage in front of it, and use their own eyes to face its vastness, tolerance and tenderness.

And such tenderness, Wang Xuebin has been looking directly at it for 300 years...

It was a kind of darkness that was not depressing. From this lengthy darkness, he could see many colors that he had never seen in his life.

Just one step away from it, the gap between life and death...

He racked his brains to choose an appropriate name for each color, and he was so exhausted that he unknowingly reached the end of his words...

He clearly remembered every repeated color, and called out the names he gave them accurately, and greeted them in his own way, even though he never got any response, he still enjoyed it...

He used to tirelessly walk, run, climb, and dig along the wall, trying to find the end of it...

He recalled his memories over and over again, even if it was an experience he didn't like, he was reluctant to skip it, but patiently savored every detail...

He carefully sorted out the sundries in his space, then shuffled them up, and rearranged them in different ways, over and over again, never getting bored...

For 300 years, the rise and fall of a country is nothing more than that, but he stayed in that lonely darkness, tried his best to restrain his scattered consciousness, and kept his sanity clear...

His eyes slowly opened, in the present world, on the soft double bed, he was naked, quietly tucked into the pupa-like quilt, silently staring at the strange but familiar ceiling in front of him...

No hiccups, no dry cough, no physical discomfort at all, only strangeness, dullness and calmness...

He had imagined more than once what would happen to him after returning to the real world!

Is it sadness and depression?Is it manic?Or rusty and indifferent!

Now, he knows...

It's calm, it's just calm...

"...Na...Nana...Xiaoyu..."

"...In the fusion of artificial intelligence, please wait patiently for fifteen system days, the function can be restored after fifteen system days..."

"...still... still need ten...ahem...fifteen days?"

A flash of clarity flashed in Wang Xuebin's eyes, he cleared his dry throat, and swallowed hard the saliva overflowing from his mouth that was not controlled by the salivary glands.

For a long time, speaking, a basic skill for ordinary people, has become a little rusty for him.

No one can speak continuously for 300 years, even if he is a tuberculosis, and he is no exception. For the next 200 years, he often cannot speak two words in ten years.

If it weren't for the special state at that time, in the long period of 300 years, his lips, teeth, mouthpiece and teeth would have degenerated into a mass of useless protein...

Slowly lifted the quilt, slowly rolled over and got out of bed...

'Plop~'

His feet went limp and he fell to the ground.

There is no way, it has been more than 100 years since the last time I got up and walked...

There is no depression, no loss, just a calmness without a trace of waves. He also encountered the same thing when he got up and walked last time, and he had expected it...

With trembling hands leaning on the ground, he staggered to his feet, supported the wall, and tremblingly walked towards the bathroom in his memory.

When I came to the bathroom, I slowly sat on the edge of the bronze bathtub. As I remembered, I raised my trembling hand and gently turned on the exquisite faucet.

'Wow~'

The clear water flowed slowly into the bathtub, Wang Xuebin took a deep breath, turned over and lay down in the constant temperature bathtub, quietly watching the water surface submerge his head bit by bit.

Close your eyes lightly, and in an instant, the dark tide hits again...

……

'...Beautiful boy, I'm calling...Beautiful boy, I'm calling...Little boy, I'm calling...'

'Ding dong~ ding dong~ ding dong~'

'Boom boom boom...'

"Wang Xuebin, open the door!"

'Boom boom boom...'

"Wang Xuebin, open the door for my mother, if you don't open the door again, my mother will call the police!"

'Squeak~'

The door opened, and a thin man with a pale face without a trace of blood, half-length messy hair, wearing a pure white home clothes, looked over with his unwavering eyes.

In an instant, Li Mengyuan, who was originally high-spirited, was frightened back a few steps, but only for an instant, she put her hands on her hips and pushed back with her chest out.

"...What are you looking at? The phone calls are not answered, the messages are not returned. If it weren't for my old lady, I would still miss you. No one will know if you are dead or smelly..."

Li Mengyuan seemed to talk back, and said something like an explanation. Seeing Wang Xuebin's ugly face, she frowned, let him go, and walked straight into the room.

In the hallway, she took off her small and exquisite red high-heeled shoes, put on her special Pikachu cotton slippers that she took out from the shoe cabinet, and walked towards the living room with short legs.

Looking around, everything in the room has been arranged meticulously, as if the person living here is a highly obsessive-compulsive and cleanliness patient.

Li Mengyuan was almost ashamed to step on the ground where there was no dust, but there was no stain or wrinkle on the sofa, so she was really embarrassed to sit down.

Looking at the room, and at Wang Xuebin who followed behind him like a ghost, Li Mengyuan's heart trembled suddenly.

"... Wang... Wang Xuebin, are you... all right..."

Walking in, he neatly placed Li Mengyuan's small leather shoes on the shoe rack, raised his head, didn't speak, just shook his head silently.

"...You... are here for the company's funds..."

Hearing Wang Xuebin's words, Li Mengyuan did not answer, but stared at him with a pair of beautiful eyes, trying to find something strange from him.

Without waiting for Li Mengyuan to answer, Wang Xuebin continued to talk. He has already penetrated into the bone marrow of talking to himself. He used to be able to chat with himself for three days, but the words became boring after that...

"... For money... I have a group of oil paintings by well-known European painters here. You send them to the auction house in Hong Kong and send them all for auction.

You don’t need to wait for all the paintings to be auctioned, as long as the auction house’s estimate comes out, you can take the paintings to the bank as collateral first, and you can use the mortgaged funds to solve your urgent needs.

As for the others, it won't be long before I will bring in an investment, and by that time, all the financial difficulties will be solved..."