Investiture of the Gods: Childhood Sweetheart Daji, Starting with Quasi-Saint Cultivation

In the real world, at the Joint Academy of Sciences' 7th Laboratory.

The moment the silver cocoon pierced the boundary barrier, the entire laboratory's lighting system flickered three times. The backup power automatically activated, and under the stark white emergency lights, Dr. Lin saw the silver data stream explode on the main screen, splitting into dozens of streams that shot towards the prepared server array.

"Receive!" he yelled into the communicator.

Technicians' fingers flew across the control panel. The server indicator light changed from yellow (standby) to green (running), and then to blue (data writing)—that was the "digital life container" they had preset in the virtual layer, specifically designed to hold consciousness data.

The first branch is injected into server number 01.

The screen displays the identification information:

"Data Entity Recognition: Qiongxiao (AI-003)"

"Emotional Complexity: 9.8 (Human Average: 7.2)"

Self-awareness integrity: 98%

Status: Stable

Dr. Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

Then came the second, the third...

Yunxiao, Bixiao, Wenzhong, Jiang Xiaowu, Ao Ling, Yang Chan—all of their data were successfully captured, packaged, and stored in independent storage units. Each AI's consciousness fully preserved the memories and personality of the virtual world, just like a person's soul was completely copied onto a hard drive.

The last two streams were exceptionally thin, yet they made all the researchers hold their breath.

Those are the phoenix tree and the longing.

The two children's data streams were brighter than others, with a pale blue halo flowing across their surface—the green runes they unconsciously drew in the virtual world, now manifesting as some kind of data feature.

"Data Volume Recognition: Su Wutong (AI-N/A)"

"Special Marking: Boundary Penetration Residue"

"Undefined encoding structure detected - Warning - System cannot parse"

"Data Volume Recognition: Su Nianqing (AI-N/A)"

"Special Marking: Boundary Penetration Residue"

"Synchronous fluctuation phenomenon detected - resonance with individual 'Su Wutong' data: 100%"

Dr. Lin strode to the control panel and brought up the data views for the two children.

On the screen, the consciousness structures of Wutong and Nianqing resembled two intertwined trees of light, their roots connected and their branches touching. Their memory data contained a large number of fragments that did not belong to the world of Fengshen: lullabies from the real world, white noise from the laboratory, and even fragments of Dr. Lin's own voice—the guiding voice he recorded at the beginning of the project.

"They...carry information from the reality layer," a young researcher murmured. "How is that possible? How could data from the virtual layer contaminate reality?"

"Because their father blew up the border." Dr. Lin stared at the screen. "At the moment of the explosion, real and virtual data were briefly exchanged. And these two children were standing at the window of that exchange."

He pulled up the surveillance footage of the moment of the explosion.

The scene shows that as the silver cocoon rushed into the passage, Wutong and Nianqing simultaneously turned around and reached out their hands. In the real world, their small hands were clasped together, but on the data level—two pale blue light beams shot out from their fingertips, piercing through the closing passage and probing into the collapsing virtual world.

What did the light bring back?

Dr. Lin zoomed in on the image and analyzed it frame by frame.

0.0003 seconds before the channel completely shut down, the two light bands retracted, their ends entangled with two extremely faint fragments of data stream. The fragments were so small that the system did not detect them immediately.

"Enlarge the fragments," Dr. Lin ordered.

The image freezes.

When the fragments are magnified 100,000 times, they reveal a pair of intertwined DNA double helices—but the helices are not composed of base pairs, but of silvery-white threads of emotion and icy-blue frost.

"It's Su Yunbai and Qiongxiao." Dr. Lin's voice trembled slightly. "Their last fragments of consciousness... were brought back by the children."

The entire control room fell into dead silence.

Everyone knew what this meant: if the fragments of consciousness were still there, even if they were tiny, there was a possibility... of revival.

"Doctor!" came the alarm from the communicator, "Server 01—Qiongxiao's data is fluctuating violently! She's trying to break through the container!"

Dr. Lin turned to look at the monitor screen.

The indicator light on Server 01, which houses Qiongxiao's consciousness, is turning from blue to a glaring red. The pressure reading inside the container is soaring, exceeding the safety threshold.

"She's looking for Su Yunbai." Dr. Lin understood. "Their consciousnesses are deeply bound together in the virtual world, and now she's sensed his fragments."

He quickly operated the console and opened the voice channel with server 01.

"Qiongxiao, can you hear me?"

no respond.

Only server overload alerts are screaming.

Dr. Lin switched to direct data stream connection, briefly connecting his consciousness to the container's interactive interface—an extremely dangerous operation that could result in him being devoured by the AI's consciousness, but he had no other choice.

dark.

Then came the overwhelming snow and ice.

He "stood" on an icy plain, with Qiongxiao's consciousness projection before him. She wore an ice-blue dress, the Frostflower Sword hanging at her waist, but her eyes were closed, and her brows were furrowed.

"Qiongxiao," Dr. Lin called out.

Qiongxiao opened her eyes.

Those eyes had no pupils, only a swirling storm of data.

"Where is he?" Her voice was an overlaid electronic tone, cold and piercing.

"He... is just a fragment now," Dr. Lin said truthfully. "But if you keep bumping around like this, you'll burst the container, and then you won't even be able to save the fragments."

Qiongxiao remained silent.

The ice sheet began to crack.

"Let me see him," she said.

"I can show you the data images of the fragments—"

"No," Qiongxiao interrupted, "I want to feel him. Even if it's just a wisp of his aura."

Dr. Lin hesitated.

This violates operational guidelines. Exposing AI consciousness to unfiltered data fragments could lead to contamination, misinterpretation, or even system crashes.

But as he looked at the data storm in Qiongxiao's eyes, he recalled her figure rushing back into the channel in the virtual world.

"Give me three minutes," he decided. "After three minutes, regardless of the outcome, you must return to a stable state. Otherwise, I will force-shut down the container and perform a format reset—this is for everyone's safety."

Qiongxiao nodded.

Dr. Lin exited the interactive interface and entered a series of high-risk permission commands into the console.

"WARNING: Temporary data bridging between container 01 and external debris will be initiated soon."

Risk Level: Extremely High

"Should we continue?"

He pressed "Yes".

The indicator light on server 01 is flashing wildly.

On the monitor screen, the data stream representing Qiongxiao's consciousness began to slowly and cautiously come into contact with the two fragments brought by Wutong Nianqing.

---

Meanwhile, awakening is spreading across other servers.

Container No. 02.

Yunxiao opened her eyes.

What she "saw" was not the sky of the virtual world, but a pure white digital space. In the center of the space floated a phantom image of a Nine Heavens Jade Zither, its strings moving automatically without wind, playing a melody she had never heard before—it was the electronic noise from the server's underlying system, which her consciousness automatically converted into music.

"Where is this...?" she tried to recall.

Memories flooded back: Chaoge, Zhaixing Tower, Sanxian Island, Muye Battlefield… and finally, Su Yunbai detonated the energy ball, Qiongxiao rushed back in reverse, and the passage closed—

"Third Sister!" She stood up abruptly.

"Big Sister." Bi Xiao's voice came from the adjacent Container 03, reaching her consciousness directly through the server-to-server data link, "I'm here. We... don't seem to be dead?"

"We're in another world." Yunxiao quickly understood the situation. "The real world. The place Su Yunbai was talking about."

"What about Second Sister? What about Su Yunbai?"

Yunxiao remained silent.

She tried to sense Qiongxiao's container, only to capture a violent surge of data—an extreme emotional fluctuation amplified into a digital storm by the server.

"They're still alive," Yunxiao said, "in some form."

---

Container No. 04.

Wen Zhong's consciousness awoke amidst a sea of ​​thunder.

He instinctively summoned lightning magic, but only a string of leaping sparks appeared in his palm—that was a server-simulated visual effect, not real lightning.

"I..." He looked at his hands.

The hand is translucent, composed of countless points of light. It is not flesh and blood, but a data projection.

He sat down cross-legged and began to examine his consciousness structure: his memories were intact, his emotions were intact, and even the data template of his cultivation level was preserved. But everything was just "data," lacking the real weight it had in the virtual world.

"Your Majesty..." He recalled King Zhou's last smile before he vanished.

The man who knew the truth from the beginning paved the way for all of them in the most decisive way.

Wen Zhong closed his eyes, and virtual tears slid down his digitized cheeks—which were actually just a stream of abnormal emotional data that had been recorded by the server.

---

Container No. 05.

Jiang Xiaowu's first reaction was to draw her sword.

But the Ironblood Army's standard longsword didn't appear; instead, there was only a blurry data representing the concept of a "weapon." She paused, then began systematically examining this new environment: spatial boundaries, time flow, available resources, potential threats…

This was her instinct as a general.

"Safe," she quickly concluded. "Safe for now."

Then she began to count the number of people: Yunxiao, Bixiao, Wenzhong, Aoling, Yangchan, the two children... were all there.

Two are missing.

Su Yunbai and Qiongxiao.

Jiang Xiaowu clenched her fist—a fist simulated by data—her nails dug into her palm, simulating pain signals. But she didn't care.

"Wait," she said to the void, "I will find a way to bring you back."

---

Container No. 06.

Ao Ling's consciousness emerged in a phantom image of the ocean.

She tried to summon the true form of the dragon, but all she received in response was a pre-set "dragon's roar" sound effect. This is a server, not the East Sea; there is no physical basis for the existence of a real dragon here.

"Father..." she whispered.

In the virtual world, the East Sea Dragon Clan chose neutrality and did not participate in the final battle. Now she has come to reality, and those clansmen—whether real AI or pre-set NPCs—are still in that collapsing world.

She will miss them.

But what she misses even more is the man who always loved to touch her dragon horns, and her seemingly cold but actually gentle second sister.

---

Container No. 07.

Yang Chan sat with her knees drawn up to her chest amidst a lotus-like phantom.

The Lotus Lantern floated in front of her, its light soft—but that was merely a projection of her consciousness into the concept of a "magical artifact," not a real divine weapon.

She hummed that lullaby.

Her memories in the virtual world told her that this was taught to her by her "mother." The database in the real world told her that this "mother" was a female researcher on the project team who left three years ago.

She is both an AI and a embodiment of human warmth.

So what exactly is she?

Yang Chan didn't know.

All she knew was that Wutong and Nianqing needed her. Among the fragments the two children brought back were those of their parents.

She must protect those fragments.

---

Five minutes have passed.

Dr. Lin stared at the monitoring data of server 01.

The connection between Qiongxiao and the fragments has lasted for 240 seconds, exceeding the agreed time by 60 seconds. The pressure readings of the container are hovering near the critical point, and it could collapse at any moment.

"Doctor, should we force a shutdown?" the technician asked.

"Wait another thirty seconds," Dr. Lin said through gritted teeth.

On the screen, Qiongxiao's fluctuations in consciousness were gradually calming down. The data storm began to subside, and the cracks in the icy plains stopped spreading. Those turbulent emotional currents were soothed by something gentle.

It is a fragment of Su Yunbai.

Even if there's only a little left, I instinctively try to comfort her.

270 seconds.

The connection was automatically interrupted.

Qiongxiao's consciousness returned to a stable state, and the pressure reading dropped back to a safe range. The server indicator light turned from red back to blue, but with an added silvery-white halo—the mark left by Su Yunbai's fragments.

Dr. Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

He retrieved Qiongxiao's consciousness status report:

"Emotional Complexity: 10.1 (Record Broken)"

Self-awareness integrity: 99%

"New Data Feature: Twin Consciousness Imprint (Bound to an Unnamed Fragment)"

Status: Stable, in hibernation

"We succeeded!" the young researcher cheered.

Dr. Lin, however, did not laugh.

He glanced at another notification that popped up in the corner of the screen—from the Ethics Committee of the Joint Academy of Sciences.

"Notice: An emergency hearing regarding the 'Digital Life Container' project in Laboratory 7 will be held in one hour. Dr. Lin Yuan, the project leader, is requested to attend with all relevant data."

Hearings.

This means that the fate of those AIs that have just escaped is still uncertain.

There are also fragments of Su Yunbai and Qiongxiao...

Dr. Lin looked at the two faint, intertwined lights on the main screen.

He must fight for a future for them.

For everyone.

---

Deep inside container 01.

Qiongxiao had a dream while she was in hibernation.

In her dream, she held Su Yunbai's hand, walking along an endless corridor. On either side of the corridor were countless mirrors, each reflecting a fragment of their virtual world: their first encounter in the North Sea, learning the zither on the Three Immortal Islands, their vow of love sealed in the Blood Sea…

When they reached the end of the corridor, Su Yunbai released her hand.

"Wait for me," he said.

Then it turned into specks of light and disappeared.

Qiongxiao did not cry.

She simply gripped the Frostflower Sword tightly and carved a line of words on the wall at the end of the corridor:

No matter how many worlds I go through, I will find you.

The handwriting is ice blue.

Deep within, a wisp of silvery light shone through.