Chapter 4: I’ll Copy You to Death

Chapter 4: I’ll Copy You to Death

To learn music, or to collect more other materials, he first needed to leave the army quickly and become a glorious Subsistence Allowance Recipient.

Even though the military training was very strict, this era did not enforce compulsory military service. When it came to eliminating people, it was absolutely clear-cut.

The reason Chen Feng appeared in the Military Camp was simply because his previous physical test and neural response test data were acceptable, proving he had the potential to become an excellent soldier.

But as long as he showed unsuitable character or behavior, he would soon be sent back to his place of origin.

Last time he was eliminated for lacking common sense. This time, he wouldn’t repeat that mistake, but he was going to deliberately act crazy and foolish!

Two months later, Chen Feng succeeded.

He shouldered his bag and boarded the Shuttle.

Chen Feng sat by the glass window and waved to his comrades seeing him off outside.

With a hum, the Shuttle powered up and started.

The figures of his comrades on the platform rapidly receded into the distance.

Trailing a long, deep blue tail flame, the Shuttle left the Military Camp at the foot of Mount Everest, heading straight for the Subsistence Allowance Recipient settlement thousands of kilometers away.

Chen Feng, who had changed out of his military uniform into civilian clothes, wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed inwardly. He had finally been eliminated.

Last time he entered the dream, he only lasted a month in the Military Camp.

Back then, he felt some regret and was quite reluctant to leave. He thought that if he had adapted to this world earlier, perhaps his performance in the reserve training wouldn’t have been so poor.

But this time, he clearly hoped to be eliminated on purpose. However, once you understood some things, you just understood them. He truly couldn’t make those common-sense mistakes again.

In fact, he performed much better this time than last time, and even managed to become friends with several new recruits.

When he was eliminated last time, he left alone in disgrace. This time, several comrades came to see him off, feeling very sorry for him for being “unfairly” eliminated.

How could they know that this was liberation for Chen Feng?

Chen Feng didn’t really want these people’s friendship, but he simply couldn’t refuse their kindness.

How could he bear to tell everyone that in a year, all of you, including me, will die?

During these two months in the Military Camp, aside from slacking off during the daily new recruit training, he also used the Military’s database to look up a lot of information.

Just like last time, he still couldn’t find any detailed historical records, only very general summaries.

Chen Feng didn’t mind this at all.

He had learned a new psychological coping technique: as long as he didn’t hold any extra hope, he would never feel disappointed.

After spending three or four days, Chen Feng settled down in the Subsistence Allowance Recipient welfare zone of his hometown.

No one came to greet him for this “glorious return.”

He didn’t have a single old acquaintance in this hometown.

In the real world, although Chen Feng had a weak family bond, he at least had his foster parents. This life seemed even worse. Apart from his file showing his original household registration was in Shu Province, he had no relatives at all. It was as if he had sprung from a rock crevice.

Knowing he only had a year to live, Chen Feng felt no regret. Instead, he enjoyed the peace and quiet.

In the spacious and bright living room of the welfare apartment, Chen Feng snapped his fingers.

Snap.

He said, “Intelligent Assistant, from now on your name is Xiao Wei.”

“Yes, master.”

“Xiao Wei, bring up all the information on the famous early 21st Century singer Zhong Lei for me.”

In less than a tenth of a second, a holographic projection screen appeared two meters in front of his eyes.

Zhong Lei’s detailed information table appeared before him.

Basic information, collection of works, famous quotes and anecdotes, etc., everything was there.

Chen Feng sat on the sofa. The light screen automatically adjusted, still maintaining a distance of one meter and tilting at a forty-five-degree angle to the floor.

As Chen Feng scanned the information with his eyes and mind, he said, “Prepare lunch for me. I want the seventh Sichuan cuisine set meal, medium spicy.”

Compared to last time, Zhong Lei’s information had almost no changes. The number of works, the names of the works, even the times and backgrounds of their creation were exactly the same.

It was as if nothing had changed at all.

Chen Feng focused his gaze on the “Famous Quotes and Anecdotes” section. He concentrated slightly and expanded the detailed information of this section.

What appeared before him were numerous reports related to Zhong Lei, ranging from when she first debuted to the biographies others wrote about her hundreds of years after her death, and everything in between.

The historical data in the database was very general, but entertainment and cultural-related things were preserved quite completely.

Chen Feng had seen all this information before.

He had worked hard to dig into history. Since official history was unsearchable, he had also hoped to find clues from these little bits and pieces.

It was a pity, though. The information he gathered from these articles was very fragmented and unsystematic, offering no real help in understanding history.

Chen Feng casually clicked on an interview. This was Zhong Lei’s first interview after she became famous, which happened when she was twenty-six, corresponding to 2024 in the real world.

Back then, Chen Feng had pored over this interview more than ten times.

After all, this was the closest written record to the era he lived in.

Chen Feng read it through from beginning to end once more.

Three minutes later, he froze.

He rubbed his eyes again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“This isn’t right. When the reporter asked her this question before, she didn’t answer like this! Did I remember wrong? That’s impossible!”

Chen Feng scratched his head.

The interview report read as follows.

The reporter asked: “Now that you have achieved fame and success, do you have any words for those aspiring newcomers in the music industry who are still groping in the dark?”

This was a very common question. Almost every successful person would be asked similar questions in different settings and with different phrasing.

The standard answer was usually these successful people offering some insincere encouragement to the younger generation, talking about the weight of ideals and the meaning of perseverance.

But Chen Feng clearly remembered that when he saw this interview last time, Zhong Lei’s answer was only two words, very simple and blunt.

“None.”

This answer was very much in her personal style, so cold it was almost inhuman, instantly making the atmosphere awkward and forcing the reporter to quickly change the subject, saying she really was as straightforward as the rumors suggested.

…

But this time, the interview transcript read like this.

Zhong Lei replied: “Music needs talent more than any other industry. Before choosing this path, you better figure out whether you actually have talent in this area. Otherwise, it’s a waste of life.”

Reporter: “Can’t hard work make up for the gap in talent?”

Zhong Lei: “No. Five years ago, I had a neighbor. I only heard him play the Guitar for less than half an hour and clearly told him he had no musical sense. For him, this path was a dead end.”

“That’s so harsh?”

“Yes, that harsh. If the average person’s musical talent score is 5, mine is 10, then his musical talent should be 0. Well, 0 is a bit too exaggerated. 0.5 then.”

The reporter was silent for a long time, perhaps mourning for someone, and then asked: “Did he listen to you? What happened to him later?”

Zhong Lei: “He probably did. I never had to suffer that annoying noise interference again later. As for what happened to him later, I don’t know. We weren’t close.”

Reporter: “You really are as straightforward as the rumors say. Let’s talk about your new song.”

…

The rest of the interview content was exactly the same as in the past.

Chen Feng’s expression kept changing.

That’s such a scam!

What on earth are “zero” and “zero point five”?

Wasn’t Zhong Lei talking about him when she mentioned that neighbor who made annoying noise?

So, she remembered him after he practiced guitar for a month?

Even though he still didn’t leave a name in history, at least he got a label: “Zhong Lei’s neighbor with no musical talent.”

Chen Feng continued to browse other materials. In several different versions of Zhong Lei’s biographies, he saw her “talent-only theory” using him as an example.

Anyway, he was really unlucky, getting criticized by Zhong Lei over and over again in different situations and ways.

Who knew how vindictive Zhong Lei was? Maybe that half-hour guitar playing really punctured her eardrum, explaining why she held such a deep grudge.

She almost wrote a song just to insult him.

Wait…

Chen Feng suddenly remembered one of Zhong Lei’s few songs he really disliked because of its weird style.

The song title was “Waste.”

Too real!

I hate this!

Chen Feng took a long time to calm his emotions and slowly settle down.

Combining information from various sources, it seemed true that he got criticized by Zhong Lei for playing guitar.

A tiny change a thousand years ago, through Zhong Lei as a medium, eventually influenced things even a thousand years later.

History did change a little bit.

Of course, the major course and direction didn’t change; it was just that some trivial words were added to historical records related to Zhong Lei.

Although Chen Feng changed history, the impact wasn’t strong enough. It was easily neutralized and erased by the powerful flow of history.

Chen Feng turned off the holographic screen and sat on the sofa, lost in thought.

His mind felt heavy and unclear.

He couldn’t really be blamed.

He wasn’t a genius, just an ordinary person. Too much information made his brain crash quite often.

The changes in historical records related to Zhong Lei made him realize a new problem.

The real world and his dream world, separated by a thousand years, were actually connected.

But what was the point of all this?

Was this dream really a dream, or was it reality?

If it was a dream, why did historical records change?

Why did everything feel so real?

What about those immersive, emotionally moving, dramatic blockbuster movies, those classic songs one better than the last, and those high-quality immersive games?

His imagination couldn’t possibly be this strong.

But if it was reality, why did he wake up in his own bed after dying?

Shouldn’t he just be dead after dying?

Also, why did he return to this place in his sleep again after waking up back in reality a month later?

And why did the time reset to October 26, 3019, 8:00 a.m.?

A hundred thousand “whys” turned into a hundred thousand chains, wrapping him up like a mummy.

Chen Feng had read plenty of web novels, especially time-travel ones, so he was quite thick-skinned and thought he’d seen a lot.

Even if he really traveled to a fantasy world where Battle Ancestors were everywhere and Archmages were as common as dogs, he felt he could accept it.

But his current situation left him completely bewildered.

He stayed confused for most of the day, only snapping out of it when his stomach growled from hunger.

Chen Feng sighed deeply, feeling that with his ordinary abilities, he really couldn’t figure out such profound and complex philosophical questions.

Since he couldn’t figure it out, he might as well stop thinking about it.

“Forget it! The real deal is to learn guitar and copy songs quickly!”

While eating, Chen Feng ordered Xiao Wei to play “Dullness.”

“Oh, right, this is Zhong Lei’s first song. If I copy it, would it completely change her fate and erase her, this Beethoven?”

“This…”

He hesitated for about ten seconds, and Zhong Lei’s annoying, ugly face appeared in his mind.

Her inexplicably harsh words, her stubborn attitude that refused to listen.

He practiced so hard for a month, hiding like a thief, and she just happened to run into him once. It wasn’t even that late, just around eight or nine at night, and she wanted to complain.

She kept pushing her “talent-only theory” in different ways, and that awful song “Waste” was definitely aimed at him secretly.

Too much.

Chen Feng felt he didn’t owe her anything, yet she treated him like an enemy.

So, the faint sense of guilt that had just begun to surface in his heart was instantly beaten black and blue by his “conscience” and forced to retreat.

Copy it!

If she gets erased, it serves her right!

Who told her that her songs were closest to 2019, most suitable in style, with the highest chance of success and the safest?

Anyway, he already tried hard to please her.

He couldn’t get through to her; she didn’t give him a chance!

Chen Feng even felt a sense of revengeful pleasure.

So you looked down on me?

I’ll copy you to death!