Bailu was a little confused by Baiheng's nervousness, but her attention quickly shifted. She blinked, and her interest soon landed elsewhere: "Oh... Miss Bai Heng, where will I sleep tonight?"
"Sleep in my room! Of course, sleep in my room!"
Baiheng grabbed Bailu's hand and, without giving her a chance to refuse, led her toward the room at the end of the corridor marked with the "Bai Heng" nameplate. As they walked, she spoke with exaggerated enthusiasm, "My room is so comfortable! The bed is big and soft! There's even a skylight to look at the stars... er, to look at the starry sky projection!"
She practically half-pushed Bailu to her room door, took a deep breath, and turned the doorknob.
The door opened.
The scene inside the room came into view.
Baiheng instantly sighed in relief—thank goodness, it was "normal" this time.
A typical bedroom with a personal touch.
It wasn't large, but it was neatly and warmly decorated.
Against the wall was a single bed covered with a plain sheet. Beside the bed was a small desk, holding some ledgers, a stellar navigator, and a few small mechanical tools.
There were a few holographic photos of Xianzhou scenery on the wall, and a clothes rack in the corner held a few changes of clothes.
The overall color scheme was warm, and the air seemed to carry a faint, mixed scent of dried flowers and spices.
Everything was reasonable, fitting the established residence of a traveling merchant.
But Baiheng's nerves tightened again less than three seconds after relaxing.
Because that damned "sense of familiarity" was back.
It wasn't familiarity with the "Bai Heng" persona, but... another, more intimate familiarity.
The angle of the bed... was almost identical to the bed she had on the Astral Express in a certain scene deep within her memory.
The position of the desk, the composition of the view outside the window, and even the style of the storage box used for sundries in the corner... (This layout... why is it so similar to my room on the Astral Express?)
Her heart sank, and an absurd yet reasonable conjecture surfaced in her mind.
"Wow! Miss Bai Heng's room is so tidy!"
Bailu had already run in excitedly, touching things here and looking there, showing particular interest in the mechanical tools on the desk. "Are these for repairing starships? That's so cool!"
"Ah... yes, just some small tools."
Baiheng replied distractedly, her gaze meticulously scanning every corner of the room like a scanner.
The closer she looked, the more obvious the "spliced feeling" became—some details were exquisitely realistic, but other areas (like the seams between the walls and the ceiling) subtly had an unnatural smoothness.
She suppressed the doubt in her heart and tried hard to play the role of the host: "Miss Bailu, take a look around and get familiar with the place. I'm going out to exchange a few more words with Sister System, and I'll be right back."
"Okay!" Bailu, already holding a gear-shaped small part and fiddling with it, replied without lifting her head.
Baiheng exited the room, gently closed the door, and turned to look down the corridor.
System was still standing at the entrance to her own room, hands clasped in front of her, standing as rigidly as a cutout figure, her face still wearing that placid "everything is under control" expression.
Baiheng quickly walked over, lowering her voice, her tone filled with disbelief and a hint of breakdown: "Miss System... that room just now... my room... that was 'created' too, right?"
System nodded, not trying to hide it: "Generated through a partial replication and environmental fusion algorithm based on your subconscious 'most familiar and reasonable living space template'—namely, the Astral Express cabin data. Some details are simplified and textures reused due to localization adaptation and data integrity constraints."
Baiheng: "..."
She felt the muscles at the corner of her mouth twitching uncontrollably.
(So... there was no "pre-prepared safe house," nor was there "Madam Herta using her vast power to acquire property in the Luofu Core Area"...)
(This house, this courtyard, everything in this room... was all temporarily 'modeled' using data?!)
(No wonder the instruction manual for the kitchen food processor 'just happened to come to mind' exactly when I needed it!)
(It turns out it was all improvised!!!)
A deep sense of powerlessness swept over her.
She held her forehead, feeling her temples throbbing.
"So... this entire courtyard..." she asked weakly.
"Real-time calculated scene simulation."
System calmly gave the final answer, "Dynamically generated and maintained based on Xianzhou Luofu Architectural Database, environmental parameters, and mission requirements. Energy consumption is controllable, flexibility is high, and it facilitates 'dataized evacuation' if necessary."
Baiheng didn't even have the energy to complain anymore.
She could only summarize dryly: "In other words, our current 'home' is a... large-scale immersive holographic projection?"
"It is closer to a high-precision, interactive temporary data reality."
System corrected her rigorously, "Texture precision, physical engine simulation, and NPC behavior logic have all been adjusted to the highest level permitted by current resources. Theoretically, it cannot be detected by conventional means."
(Theoretically...)
Baiheng no longer wanted to delve into how much truth was in that "theoretically."
She just let out a long sigh, feeling that the amount of information she had processed tonight was greater than the sum of the past few centuries.
"Then... Jingliu's side..." She suddenly thought of a more terrifying question.
"The first-floor guest room is an independent simulation unit, with environmental parameters fine-tuned to match the reasonable state of a 'long-term vacant guest room'."
System replied, "The target individual has not currently shown any abnormal sensory feedback."
Baiheng relaxed slightly, but her heart was still uneasy.
Could the perception of that former Sword Master truly be completely fooled by this "high-precision simulation"?
She shook her head, temporarily putting aside the anxious question.
She needed to settle Jingliu quickly.
She told herself in her heart.
Baiheng walked down the stairs again.
Stepping onto the extremely realistic simulated wooden staircase, she couldn't help but listen closely to see if the creaking sound was too regular—damn it, after System said all that, everything she saw now looked like code and textures.
The light in the first-floor living room was dimmer than when she left.
The smart dimming system seemed to have automatically switched to night mode according to the time, leaving only a few wall lamps emitting a dim, warm glow, barely outlining the furniture.
Then, Baiheng stopped at the foot of the stairs.
She saw it.
Jingliu was still sitting there on the hard wooden chair by the window, her posture seemingly unchanged from when they left, her back straight, her profile stern.
But... at some point, something had appeared in her hand.
It was a flat metal flask, simple in design.
The mouth of the flask was currently aimed at Jingliu's pale lips.
She tilted her head slightly, and her throat made a very faint movement.
A clear, cold fragrance of wine silently diffused through the quiet living room, mixing with the original sandalwood scent in the air, creating a strange atmosphere.
(Wine?)
(Where did the wine come from? It definitely wasn't there just now!)
She subconsciously looked at the small bar counter in the corner of the living room—it was empty.
When Jingliu entered, she had also confirmed that the other party was not carrying any luggage.
This flask... was as if it had materialized out of thin air.
And, Jingliu... was drinking?
Baiheng's heart inexplicably skipped a beat.
She suddenly recalled some vague memories—a night after a celebration banquet, the moonlight was beautiful, and that perpetually stern-faced Sword Master also seemed to be sitting alone in a quiet corner, holding something similar, facing the moon, taking sips, silent as if separated from the merriment.
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