"Stop, stop, stop!"
Gao Yang patted his smoking head:
"Alright, alright, don't explain the principles, just tell me the result. So... are you saying you used this bizarre number 42 to block the World-Ending White Light at 00:42 on August 29, 2624?"
Lin Xian nodded:
"To be precise, it wasn't eliminated, but blocked."
"Actually, I blocked it before it arrived; however, I deliberately left a strand of white light shooting towards Earth as a little prank, borrowing flowers to offer Buddha."
"The high-dimensional perspective of 42 is enough for me to see and control everything. Those tiny units woven into 'guitar strings' and 'threads' allow me to play any 'music,' draw any 'pattern,' and weave any 'sweater' I desire."
Upon hearing this.
Gao Yang got goosebumps, rubbed his upper arm with a look of distaste:
"Please don't tell me I'm one of those you stitched together with a sewing needle, making me feel like a zombie."
"Of course not."
Lin Xian chuckled lightly:
