Chapter 3:Friendship

If you found yourself transported into a beloved novel, surrounded by familiar characters and immersed in a world you had once only imagined, the reality of that experience would be overwhelming.

The protagonist of the story—someone you've admired and rooted for—becomes your colleague, sharing the mundane aspects of life with you in a way you never expected.

The familiarity of the plot, the knowledge of their destiny, and the impending crises that the world would face would weigh heavily on your mind.

Meng Xian, with the rare privilege and burden of foreknowledge, the qualities of the protagonist, Zhou Mingrui, come to mind.

Reflecting on the countless hours spent engrossed in the pages of "Lord of Mysteries," Klein Moretti's kindness, resilience, and the complexities of his character stand out.

He navigated a world filled with danger and intrigue with both grace and strength. His future was bright, destined to ascend to unimaginable heights and save the world from imminent destruction.

But now, faced with the reality of my situation, I must decide how to approach this unique relationship. Should I seek to ingratiate myself with Zhou Mingrui, establishing a connection that might prove invaluable in the turbulent times ahead? Or should I take a more unconventional path, forging my own destiny while keeping a respectful distance?

The good news is that I've arrived before the plot's commencement. I have the opportunity to build a genuine bond with Zhou Mingrui, to earn his trust and perhaps even his friendship.

This early connection could be a lifeline, a means of navigating the coming storm and securing a place by his side as he rises to power.

There is an allure to this option, the promise of aligning myself with a figure destined for greatness, ensuring my survival and perhaps even a measure of influence.

However, this opportunity is not without its challenges. The bad news is that the timeline for the plot's activation stretches far into the future—five thousand, maybe even ten thousand years.

The primordial creator's awakening, the subsequent destruction of civilization, and the apocalyptic events that follow loom ominously in the distance.

Even with the blessing of immortality, survival is not guaranteed. The imminent natural disasters and world-ending crises threaten to extinguish all life before the plot even begins.

My ultimate goal becomes clear: to secure a position alongside Zhou Mingrui, to ride the wave of destiny that leads to Sefirah Castle—the only possible sanctuary amidst the coming apocalypse.

This plan is not driven by a desire for power or glory but by a fundamental will to survive. I want to live. The initial dream of living life to the fullest, enjoying the simple pleasures until old age, is still there, but now it is intertwined with the harsh reality of survival in a world on the brink of destruction.

This is not a difficult task. Zhou Mingrui's character is destined to be sincere to anyone who treats him with genuine kindness. Moreover, I have doubled my chances by having the advantage of being his friendly senior.

Yes, since I became Zhou Mingrui's mentor two months ago, I've been helping him whenever needed, and we've discovered that we share many of the same hobbies, allowing us to talk about them enthusiastically.

I'm not a strict mentor, so it was easy to establish a friendly rapport. Without the filter of the Lord of Mysteries' complex personas from the original novel, Zhou Mingrui can be described as a typical contemporary male college student.

After work, he enjoys catching up on new episodes, watching videos, playing games, and reading novels. He is a qualified "keyboard" expert on the Internet and loves sharing interesting things with his friends.

The turning point came when Zhou Mingrui accidentally saw me reading a novel during a break, sparking a conversation about our mutual interests and hobbies. That was the start of our deeper connection.

After two months of consistent interaction, I successfully changed Zhou Mingrui's way of addressing me from the slightly formal "Ma'am Meng" to the relatively close "Meng." My next goal is to become even closer to him. After all, Zhou Mingrui had just graduated from college at the age of 22, and I am 24 years old this year, only two years older.

Age is a flexible concept. When not needed, it becomes evidence of one's youthfulness and health preservation. When needed, it becomes a bridge to create a peer-like relationship that is easy to get along with.

My attitude towards Zhou Mingrui has always been cautious and restrained. Adhering to the concept of saying and doing things appropriate for the stage of life, I have formulated and revised several versions of a code of conduct for getting along with friends.

I know not to rush things; boundaries exist, and if ignored, a genuine friendship with Zhou Mingrui would be impossible.

Maintaining the proper sense of propriety and boundaries that should exist between ordinary friends is crucial.

Even after confirming during a casual chat that Zhou Mingrui's family lived in another city and that he currently lived in a shared house in a village in the city.

I resisted the urge to suggest that he move in with me as a roommate. Despite the practical advantages, I knew it would be inappropriate and could be easily misunderstood by others.

Some rumors did start to circulate about our close relationship, but I chose to ignore them. Rumors are inevitable, and engaging with them would only complicate matters further.

—-----

During another lunch break, I walked with Zhou Mingrui to the company cafeteria, our footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

The cafeteria, while not extravagant, was efficiently run and offered a range of dishes that were both diverse and satisfying. The taste, though not exceptional, was decent enough, and the affordability was the real draw.

The setup was practical: soup and rice were complimentary, and a dish of two meats and one vegetable cost only about 15 yuan, roughly 2 dollars. For employees like Zhou Mingrui, who were still in their probation period, the daily subsidy was 10 yuan.

It was a modest amount, but it was a testament to the company's effort to provide good benefits even during the early stages of employment.

As they waited in line, Meng Xian glanced at Zhou Mingrui and asked, "Are you thinking about staying on with us after your probation period ends?

" Zhou Mingrui chuckled, a light-hearted sparkle in his eyes. "Even if it's just for the free cafeteria," he said with a grin, "I'm planning to work hard to secure my spot here."

When it was their turn at the cafeteria window, Meng Xian selected a plate of stir-fried lettuce, salt and pepper spare ribs, and sweet and sour pork tenderloin.

Zhou Mingrui chose a similar selection, swapping the salt and pepper spare ribs for a hearty portion of scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

They moved quickly from the long food line, finding a table where they could settle in and enjoy their meal in relative peace.

After placing their plates on the table, Meng Xian and Zhou Mingrui went to fetch some soup. The cafeteria offered two options that day: the popular seaweed egg drop soup and a refreshing mung bean soup. They each opted to try both, each carrying two bowls back to their table.

As we dug into our meals, Zhou Mingrui glanced up from his plate and asked, "Meng, what are your plans for the afternoon?"

It was a common practice nowadays to discuss plans during meals, a stark contrast to ancient customs that advised against talking while eating or sleeping. I blinked at his question, momentarily lost in thought, then began detailing my schedule.

"For the afternoon," I started, "I plan to get home around 12:30 after lunch. I'll spend about half an hour reviewing your PCB drawings to ensure everything is on track.

Then, I'll take a brief 20-minute nap to recharge. After that, I'll spend the last 10 minutes organizing the test data for our next project."

Zhou Mingrui nodded attentively, clearly interested. I continued, "After the lunch break, I'll take you through the product debugging process.

The boards for comparative testing are ready, and we can start the debugging phase, which involves testing and identifying any issues."

"The firmware engineer from the next department will also join us," I added, "so it'll be a collaborative effort.

Half of the debugging time will require communication with the hardware FAE, who will act as a technical guide and answer any questions. I've already discussed this with the FAE, so I'll be able to provide some real insights into the process."

Zhou Mingrui's fork paused mid-air as he absorbed Meng Xian's casual remark about using her salary for the next six months. His eyes widened, and he blurted out, "How was this discussed?"

Meng Xian, unperturbed, took a deliberate bite of her ribs, savoring the flavor as she chewed. "It's the money power," she replied slowly, almost as if savoring the words themselves.

Zhou Mingrui's curiosity piqued further, his gaze sharpening. "How much?"

As Meng Xian continued to eat, she casually responded, "My salary for the next six months."

The revelation struck Zhou Mingrui like a thunderbolt. His eyes widened, and he stared at Meng Xian in disbelief.

The idea of someone investing half a year's salary into something so intangible, especially in the uncertain world they lived in, was astounding. The use of the term "future" implied a level of financial commitment and sacrifice that wasn't typical.

Zhou Mingrui quickly ran the numbers in his mind. If Meng Xian had sufficient savings, she might have said "my half-year salary" without specifying it as a future commitment.

The added prefix suggested that her current financial situation was more precarious, and she was using her future earnings to cover an immediate need, essentially advancing her salary as tuition.

Zhou Mingrui's mind raced, silently calculating the cost of her investment. The realization struck him hard, and he let out a soft, worried hiss. His reaction, although subdued, spoke volumes. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a minor inconvenience, like losing a wallet.

But Meng Xian understood the deeper context behind his distress.

"Don't worry about me not being able to afford food or rent," she said soothingly. "I've already paid a year's rent in advance. As for food, the company subsidizes my lunch, and I can manage by buying groceries and cooking my own meals.

The tuition doesn't need to be paid all at once; I can handle it in installments over the year."

Zhou Mingrui's tension eased slightly, though his expression was still clouded with worry. "Meng," he said, "are you working so hard to get a promotion and a raise as soon as possible?"

Meng Xian considered his question carefully. She nodded, then shook her head as she corrected him. "It's mainly about promotion, not a salary increase," she said. "It's one of my small goals."

She wasn't driven by ambitions of climbing to the top of the corporate ladder or seeking the wealth and status that might come with it.

Her aspirations were more modest—she envisioned herself becoming a small supervisor or team leader within her department.

"Even as a team leader," Meng Xian explained with a gentle smile, "I'd have the authority to make some changes that could benefit my team.

It's not about being in charge of everything but having the ability to make life a little easier for those I work with.

Things like approving leave requests more smoothly, overlooking occasional lateness, or urging the team to work efficiently to reduce unnecessary overtime."

Her smile grew warmer as she spoke, reflecting her sincere intentions. "As long as our performance meets the standards, I'd be in a position to protect my team from unreasonable demands.

I'd take responsibility and fight against any unjust demands from higher-ups that involve excessive overtime for the sake of appearances."

Meng Xian's expression was one of quiet determination and care. She wasn't seeking accolades or grand achievements. Her goal was to create a better working environment for her team and make a positive impact in her own way.

The thought of taking on a role that could allow her to make those small but significant changes motivated her, and she wanted Zhou Mingrui to understand that.

Her words carried a sense of quiet resolve, a reflection of her values and her commitment to her colleagues. Zhou Mingrui listened, his expression softening as he took in the depth of Meng Xian's dedication and the sacrifices she was willing to make.

"Thank you for explaining," Zhou Mingrui said, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I admire your dedication and your commitment to making things better for everyone."

Meng Xian's smile grew even warmer, a genuine expression of appreciation for his understanding. "I'm glad you do. It's important to me to create a positive environment for us all.

And knowing that I have your support means a lot."

As they continued their lunch, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics

Meng Xian gazed at Zhou Mingrui as he chatted away, his laughter bright and his eyes full of youthful curiosity.

The sight was both comforting and bittersweet for her. She knew that the person before her wasn't the enigmatic Klein Moretti or the burdened Mr. Fool from the novel she cherished. No, this was the genuine Zhou Mingrui—an individual living a stable life in his hometown, surrounded by familiar faces and cherished routines.

Zhou Mingrui's world was one of warmth and simplicity. His father's loud, hearty laughter filled their home, a stark contrast to the silence Meng Xian often felt in her own world. His mother, despite her chronic illness, remained an ever-active presence, driven by her love for her son.

His best friend, someone who had shared countless moments of joy and camaraderie, was a constant in his life, from playing football and basketball to indulging in games and mahjong.

Zhou Mingrui's life was grounded in the everyday joys and struggles of a young man who had not yet ventured into the unknown.

This Zhou Mingrui was not a time-traveler lost in a strange land, nor was he the aloof Mr. Fool, burdened by near-death experiences and a solitary journey through a world fraught with danger and mysticism.

Instead, he was grounded and relatable.

embodying the essence of a young man content with his life and its uncomplicated pleasures.

the Zhou Mingrui sitting before her was not the same as the enigmatic, burdened figure she had come to know through the pages of the book.

Meng Xian's thoughts drifted to a poignant line from the novel, a reflection of Klein's inner resolve: "I won't lose too much, just myself. There are always some things that are more important than others." This realization brought a tinge of sadness to Meng Xian.

Zhou Mingrui—or Klein Moretti, as he was known in the novel—had been willing to make for the greater good.

As she watched Zhou Mingrui's innocent engagement with his meal, Meng Xian felt a profound sadness.

The contrast between this joyful individual and the person who had faced such grim trials was stark.

The real Zhou Mingrui, with his everyday concerns and contentment, stood in stark opposition to the lonely and vigilant figure from the book, who had endured countless hardships in his quest for strength and survival and to return home.

Meng Xian's gaze lingered on Zhou Mingrui, her thoughts racing. She knew that even if she managed to reach Sefirah Castle and survive in this world filled with forbidden knowledge and impending madness, her existence as a mere "reader" with access to such esoteric truths was precarious.

Knowledge in this realm was a double-edged sword, one that could easily lead to her own destruction. Only an angel could hope to suppress the pollution that came with such knowledge.

Yet, Meng Xian's determination remained unwavering. Her goal was to survive, and part of that survival hinged on ensuring Zhou Mingrui's well-being, even if he remained unaware of the full extent of her motivations.

The idea of helping him in exchange for his own survival was a trade she was willing to make. Zhou Mingrui's potential future as a savior, as depicted in the novel, was worth any sacrifice she had to make.

Noticing Meng Xian's pensive expression, Zhou Mingrui glanced up, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Hm?" he asked, sensing something was on her mind.

Meng Xian, momentarily lost in her thoughts, quickly shook her head, forcing a smile as she resumed eating. "It's nothing," she said softly, trying to dismiss her contemplations.

Zhou Mingrui, though puzzled by her response, chose not to press the matter further. He continued with his meal, the unease lingering but unspoken.

For Meng Xian, the reality of her situation was bittersweet. She had chosen to embrace a future that was far from easy.