Chapter 3: The Vastness of the Universe (Humbly Seeking Your Support)

It wasn’t until a dozen days later that Lu Yu finally finished learning over twenty thousand characters.

It must be said, Lu Yu was getting a little full of himself! To master an entire written language in just a bit over ten days, and yet still use the word “finally”—he had audacity. Think about it: as a native of Huaxia, he’d spent more than twenty years learning and using his own language, and even now wouldn’t dare claim to know every Chinese character. Yet here he was, feeling that mastering a brand-new script in under two weeks was slow.

Once more, hunger roused him from sleep. But this time, instead of immediately ordering takeout as usual, Lu Yu drew back the curtains and gazed silently at the sky for a long time.

At last, the strange dream from that night resurfaced in his memory, and with it, the images he had seen. The awe-inspiring evolution of the cosmos, the birth and progression of civilization within it, and the desperate struggle of the last survivors. The final plea of that person in his dream still echoed in his heart.

To witness the rise, glory, and demise of an entire civilization, even the birth and death of a universe—who could remain calm after such a revelation?

Lu Yu stared blankly out the window, as if trying to pierce the atmosphere, to see the solar system, the Milky Way, and even further, into unknown realms. The universe was so vast—he truly wished he could see it for himself.

Once, such a thought would have seemed like pure fantasy to him, nothing more than a fool’s daydream. But now that he knew his mind held the complete technological legacy of an advanced civilization, he began to believe that perhaps, one day, he might really have the chance to set foot on distant stars and witness other wonders of the cosmos.

As for how long it would take—well, that was not a question for today. No one learns to run before they’ve even learned to crawl.

At the same time, a weighty sense of pressure settled upon him. To yearn for the wonders of other worlds was also to bear the responsibility of leading all of humanity into the unknown. Anyone would feel daunted by such a prospect—especially someone who, until recently, was nothing more than an ordinary man.

The fear of the unknown is embedded in the human spirit.

Of course, all of this lay in the future. For now, Lu Yu’s most pressing concern was to make some money and pay off his debts. If basic needs weren’t met, how could he think of poetry and distant lands?

From the initial batch of basic technology he’d unlocked, and considering his own circumstances, Lu Yu chose to focus on the internet. Compared to other branches like physics, biology, or aerospace, the internet required the least up-front cost and promised the quickest returns.

Fortunately, back in college, inspired by the booming domestic internet industry, he’d once considered entering that field. He’d even taught himself Java and C++, and, working with several older students, helped develop an app—so he had some foundation. With his current rate of learning, developing astonishing software in a short time was out of the question, but finding vulnerabilities in other companies’ programs and claiming bounties was well within reach.

In fact, the technology archive he’d unlocked included many internet-related breakthroughs—most of which would be considered “black tech” if revealed now. But these belonged to a completely different system than Blue Star’s current internet. No matter how advanced the technology, without the right foundational support, it would be like building castles in the air. It was as if, in the Age of Sail, you had the plans for an aircraft carrier—you simply couldn’t build it or make it work.

To fully apply those unlocked technologies would mean changing Blue Star’s entire knowledge base and technological foundation. Was that possible? Not a chance. Even the author said that, no matter how fantastical, the story couldn’t descend into brainless wish-fulfillment or insult the readers’ intelligence!

After all, the readers are discerning, sophisticated, attractive, and insightful people who have risen above vulgar amusements. (This is absolutely not filler—the author speaks from the heart, dear friends!)

Having chosen his path, Lu Yu picked up his phone to order takeout, showered, changed into clean clothes, then hurried through his meal before heading out to the subway. His destination: Wenweng Road in Qingyang District, home to Shudu Library.

Even though there was a 24-hour self-service book area, Lu Yu preferred to spend the day inside the library until closing.

He sought out the computer programming section and began browsing. Ever since that strange dream, he sensed his mind had opened up, though he couldn’t say by how much. He felt his memory had improved, his reactions were quicker, and his logical thinking stronger—but still within the bounds of normal human ability.

He was nothing like those protagonists in the novels—who, overnight, become impossibly powerful, soaring to stand shoulder to shoulder with the sun and shattering the limits of human cognition.

Lu Yu sat with a stack of books, flipping through them at a rate of twenty or thirty seconds per page. There was no stunning beauty sitting nearby, no distant glances from attractive women, and certainly no foolish onlooker sneering at his “pretend” reading, only to be humiliated by his true skill.

Sigh. Novels really are full of lies.

Lu Yu couldn’t help but muse as he read: in such a dull, monotonous, and uneventful study session, how is one supposed to act cool with the “swagger of the wind” as the novels say?

Gradually, he lost himself in the books, only snapping out of it when the intercom announced closing time. Rising, he put the books back, selected three to borrow, and checked them out at the self-service kiosk before heading to the nearest subway station.

On the train, he browsed news and social media. Once again, no beautiful and gentle classmate reached out to ask how he was doing, and no foolish rich kid mocked him in any group chat. The only wealthy acquaintance he had was once again messaging him about “space.”

Sigh. Why was his friend Chen Xiaofei so different from the rich kids in novels—never giving him a chance to show off or put anyone in their place?

As Lu Yu silently lamented this, Chen Xiaofei, busy flirting with a girl, suddenly sneezed and wrapped his coat tighter, realizing too late that style shouldn’t always come before warmth.

Looking at the crowded subway, Lu Yu noticed there were no pretty young women being harassed, waiting for him to come to the rescue. Once more, reality proved that novels are pure fiction—beautiful girls simply don’t take the subway!

The thought made him laugh at himself—at his age, he was still so juvenile.

After leaving the station, he stopped by a noodle shop and ordered two bowls of spicy Chongqing noodles. He ate quickly, scanned the payment code, and left—a smooth, practiced routine.

Back at his rental, he brewed some tea, set aside his fanciful thoughts, and returned to his books, reading until midnight before turning in.

The next day, he was up at eight, washed up, had breakfast, and arrived at the library a little after nine. Return books, read, stay until closing, borrow more books, go home and continue reading—this became his routine for seven or eight consecutive days.

During his studies, he constantly cross-referenced the unlocked technology archive with current materials, striving to recreate some of the effects from the archive using Blue Star’s programming languages. Though results were limited, the process deepened his understanding of both systems.

Lu Yu wouldn’t call himself a programming expert yet, but he was certainly proficient. He felt the time had come to launch his money-making plan.

After returning the books, he strolled out of the library, feeling light, thinking only of a hearty meal and a good sleep before embarking on his new journey.

Microsoft had released Windows 10 in July 2015, even offering bug bounties to encourage programmers to find vulnerabilities. Lu Yu had seen this news before and paid it little mind, but now he decided to look into the bounty program in detail.

The next morning, after breakfast, he returned home and turned on his computer. He downloaded the official bounty guidelines, skimming only those with prize amounts above ten thousand dollars—anything less wasn’t worth his time. Clearly, Lu Yu’s confidence was sky-high.

He installed Windows 10, downloaded several compilers and programming tools, and began his quest to make money.

For a moment, it felt as if the heavens and earth dimmed, sun and moon lost their luster, the winds howled and the world trembled—well, at least in Lu Yu’s imagination. Anyone who’s read a few fantasy novels would recognize the scene.

Compared to the programming techniques in the basic technology archive, Blue Star’s programming languages were obviously behind—not just in logic, but also in approach. As Lu Yu examined Windows 10, he made detailed comparisons, searching for differences and considering how the advanced methods from the archive might be adapted.

The results were immediate. In just three days, Lu Yu uncovered eight significant vulnerabilities, plus a slew of minor ones.

After organizing his findings, he decided to submit two major bugs and more than a dozen smaller ones to Microsoft’s bounty program. As a lone programmer, revealing everything at once might attract unwanted attention and trouble. Lu Yu had yet to decide on his long-term path, and there was no need to stand out too much.

He composed his email, attached his bank details, and sent it off to Microsoft. The reply came quickly: his submission was received, and the technical team was already verifying the bugs. According to the bounty rules, the reward would be issued within two days at the latest.

Seeing the reply, Lu Yu breathed a sigh of relief. Now, all that remained was to wait.

He considered approaching other companies, but ultimately thought better of it. Claiming bounties from multiple companies in rapid succession would not be wise.

Anyone who’s played a strategy game knows that heroes who flourish late must keep a low profile early on. Those who recklessly challenge the world from the outset rarely meet a good end.

As Lu Xun once said, he always assumed the worst in people—a sentiment Lu Yu wholeheartedly agreed with. Everything in the world has two sides; there’s not only the visible light, but also unseen darkness. In a harmonious society, things are better, but in the capital-driven West, people are even less restrained.

Marx once said that capital, from head to toe, is drenched in blood and filth—it cannot help but do evil.

To avoid unnecessary trouble in the future, Lu Yu resolved to keep a low profile for as long as possible. Yes, that’s just the sort of person he was.

And so, for now, his journey continued.