My classmates chose martial arts and fantasy, but I chose the prehistoric world.

In Old Master Chen's eyes, choosing the prehistoric world was not just a risky move, but utterly foolish!

It's like a summer insect talking about ice, or a frog in a well talking about the sea!

Chen Jinyan nodded in agreement.

That child named Meng Chuan is probably no longer with us.

And his son, Bei Xuan, returned from the world of immortals a year later, and would also lose this classmate forever—

Of course, they might not have been familiar with each other at all.

……

On the edge of the old town, there is a small convenience store facing the street.

The signboard is old; the words "Lao Meng Convenience Store" have faded and turned white.

The roller shutter door was half-closed, the light inside was dim, and the shelves were covered with a thin layer of dust, as if they hadn't been properly maintained for a long time.

Behind the counter, Meng Shanhe sat on a small stool, took a rag, and unconsciously wiped a stainless steel thermos that was already shiny.

He kept his head down, his temples were much whiter than they had been half a month ago, and the wrinkles around his eyes were as deep as if they had been carved by a knife.

Suppressed, intermittent sobs came from the inner room.

Since returning from the hospital, my wife has barely gotten out of bed. She can barely eat a few bites of food, has become extremely thin, and spends her days in tears, repeatedly murmuring "Xiao Chuan," "My Xiao Chuan"...

The daughter, Meng Xiaoyu, sat on a small stool by the door of the inner room, hugging her knees and burying her face in them, her shoulders trembling slightly.

She's only in her third year of junior high school, an age when she should be lively and cheerful, but for the past two weeks, she hasn't smiled at all.

She couldn't understand why her brother, who had clearly said he wanted to choose a martial arts world and most wanted to go to the low-level martial arts world, would turn around and walk into that golden light from which he could never return.

The shop was quiet, so quiet that only the sobbing from the inner room and the occasional sound of a car passing by on the street could be heard.

A regular customer pushed open the door wanting to buy a pack of cigarettes. Upon seeing this scene, he opened his mouth, but in the end, he just sighed, gently put down the money, took the cigarettes from the shelf, and quietly left.

Meng Shanhe knew what people said behind his back.

They said his son was crazy, stupid, and was courting death.

They said their family was finished because they had lost their future pillar of support.

He didn't want to hear it, nor did he dare to think about it.

He could only sit here, guarding this little shop, guarding his weeping wife and daughter inside, like a stone sculpture slowly weathering away.

He wanted to hate his son for being so disobedient, but when he thought of how obedient his son had been since he was a child, and how he saved his breakfast money to buy candy for his sister, the hatred turned into a deeper pain.

Finally, all emotions collapsed into a numb blankness and a near-desperate wait—

Waiting for that figure who will never again push open the shop door and call out, "Dad, I'm home."

……

At Yuncheng No. 2 Middle School, order was maintained as usual.

The teleportation array on the playground had long since disappeared, and the crystal had been resealed.

The classrooms for the second and third years of high school were empty, while the first-year students continued their classes and studies as usual, preparing for the next "Departure Day".

The high school seniors, who had just returned from another world a little over half a month ago, were still enjoying their "return vacation."

Only occasionally, when someone looks at the open space in the center of the playground, their eyes will be momentarily dazed, as if they can still see the golden light that shot into the sky half a month ago, and the boy who disappeared in the golden light.

Ms. Liu, the homeroom teacher of Class 7 in the second year of high school, is also at school today because she also teaches classes for the first year of high school.

He looked much older.

One of the students in his class was a "prehistoric" student, a first in his teaching career.

He repeatedly recalled Meng Chuan's appearance in class: average grades, no trouble-making, and even somewhat introverted.

How could a child like that be?

He read the psychological evaluation report over and over again; everything was normal.

I also visited their home. The parents are honest people, the family is harmonious, and there have been no changes.

There was no sign, no reason.

Like a normally functioning asteroid that suddenly veers off course and crashes headlong into the sun!

Teacher Liu stood by the office window, watching the students running on the playground, feeling a sense of emptiness in her heart.

He couldn't understand... why the student who gave him the least trouble in the end dealt him the heaviest blow.

The atmosphere in the principal's office was even more somber.

The principal had just returned from a meeting at the Municipal Education Bureau, and he looked terrible.

At the meeting, Meng Chuan's case was brought up as a negative example.

Although no names were mentioned, the implication that "your school's ideological work is inadequate and psychological counseling is lacking" felt like a whip lashing across the face.

Yuncheng has never had a case of someone choosing the "Primordial Era" (a term referring to a specific type of person) in decades, yet it happened at No. 2 Middle School...

Why?

Pressure is transmitted layer by layer.

He needs to write reports, reflect on his experiences, and develop a more comprehensive risk assessment and intervention mechanism.

But he knew in his heart that there were some things that couldn't be written in the report.

Just like he still can't figure out what that student named Meng Chuan was thinking when he closed his eyes while standing in the teleportation array.

Is he really going to his death, or... does he have other plans?

No one could give him an answer.

……

Online discussions about "Yuncheng No. 2 Middle School's Golden Teleportation" and "Primordial Suicide" gradually subsided after a few days of heated debate.

Every day brings new hot topics, and the extreme choices made by an ordinary high school student in a remote city are quickly drowned out by the flood of information.

Only occasionally, in a few local forums, does someone mention it:

"That guy who chose 'prehistoric era,' he's probably not around anymore, right?"

"Of course, it's been more than half a month."

"Sigh, why bother? Wouldn't it be better to just survive for a year in a low-level martial arts world?"

"Perhaps there's too much pressure at home? Or maybe you've been through something traumatic?"

"I heard his family isn't well-off, his younger sister is still in junior high, and he's their only son. This is devastating..."

"It's the path I chose, so who can I blame? There were clearly safer options."

"Forget it, the person is gone, there's no point in talking about it."

The post quickly sank, drowned out by shares like "I saw the Tathagata Palm in the world of martial arts!" and "The spiritual energy in the world of immortals is truly amazing!"

These were shared by his students, a year ahead of him, who returned from the worlds of martial arts and fantasy the day after Meng Chuan entered the prehistoric realm…

They have a month-long "return vacation" and have not yet returned to school.

In fact, some martial arts and immortal cultivation students who have achieved success in their cultivation have been specially recruited in advance by key martial arts universities and immortal cultivation universities!

The name Meng Chuan is like a small pebble thrown into a pond on Earth.

It stirred up violent ripples, startling the fish in the water and the people on the shore...

But the ripples will eventually subside, and the water will eventually return to calm.

No one could have imagined it—or rather, they never even dreamed of it:

The pebble that created the ripples is now on its way to the celestial chaos and the Purple Cloud Palace...