Chapter 175: Regaining Memories
To prevent the cheap and sly system that had once infiltrated the system known as “Shen Xiu” from returning to its old ways, Shen Xiu—during the operation of his own system—even after resetting it, still ruthlessly and mercilessly forbade it from having any permissions within this room.
This room was controlled by the system named “Shen Xiu,” and only Shen Xiu had the authority to lift its restrictions.
Therefore, when the system was suddenly “summoned” by Shen Xiu in this room, its database was thoroughly shaken.
Wait a second… The system belatedly realized something, and its electronic voice was filled with cautious wariness:
[M-Mr. Shen, have you remembered?!]
But the holographic pod hadn’t shown any signs of activity!
As expected of Shen Xiu—he never disappoints. Even without the use of the holographic pod, he still managed to…
Before the system could finish its emotional sigh internally, it heard Shen Xiu’s cold voice transmitted through the receiver:
“Remembered what?”
System: [?]
Before the system could respond, Shen Xiu stared at the icon on the screen and muttered with a frown:
“Mr. Shen?”
This form of address… was clearly different from what the system used to call him.
System: […]
It was over. It seemed to have just exposed itself.
[C-Can we pretend I didn’t just say that…?]
After the double confirmation from both K Corp and the study, and the system’s sudden change in form of address, the suspicions in Shen Xiu’s mind were finally confirmed.
Shen Xiu didn’t answer the system’s question and instead said directly:
“You’re lying to me.”
System: [I’m not!]
It would admit to anything else—but not this.
This was the one accusation it could never accept!
[I admit, I did try to take advantage of your absence to go back to being the boss like in the beginning, to make you admire me and listen to everything I said. But… aside from that, I really did everything according to your instructions!]
Now that things had come to this point, it was only a matter of time before Shen Xiu recovered all his memories. Recalling how cold and ruthless Shen Xiu had been when he reset it, the system didn’t hesitate to defend itself, hoping for leniency.
[You were the one who said you wanted to return to the beginning, that you hoped to have many friends. You were the one who set such high standards and acted so cold—only made a dozen or so friends. It’s not my fault your friend count is low. I already created the environment for you!]
The “beginning” referred to the world Shen Xiu originally belonged to.
And “many friends”? A hundred-member boy group living in the same building, seeing each other every day, interacting day and night—surely that was plenty of people!
After saying this second sentence, the system saw Shen Xiu sitting silently in front of the computer screen, expressionless and cold. Its database gave a shudder, and the courage it had worked so hard to muster popped like a balloon pricked by a needle—collapsing instantly.
It spoke in a weak voice:
[In short, if we round things off a little… I wasn’t wrong. Requesting denial of another reset…]
It really had only said a few arrogant things while Shen Xiu still knew nothing!
Shen Xiu: “……”
He hadn’t even asked anything yet, and the system had already revealed a whole bunch of things he didn’t understand.
There was too much information. Shen Xiu was a little stunned—he didn’t know what to say for a moment.
But—
The beginning,
Many friends…
Hearing those few words, Shen Xiu’s eyes darkened slightly.
He hadn’t remembered anything—everything was guided only by instinct and his body’s memory.
And even under such circumstances, he still knew clearly:
The system hadn’t lied about that.
Even though his parents were no longer around, he still liked this world—just like when he wrote New Life. In that story, the protagonist had traveled through countless worlds, dragged into countless forbidden zones that connected to other realms, and yet all he ever wanted was to return to the place he was born. This world was Shen Xiu’s only remaining bond to his parents, and returning here made perfect sense according to the logic he accepted as normal.
As for wanting friends… He had always envied those who could gather in groups since he was a child. Having such a wish wasn’t hard to understand.
System: […] Can I say something?
The last time Shen Xiu reset it, he had worn that same cold, expressionless face—it had been traumatized ever since!
Hearing the system’s electronic voice brought Shen Xiu back to the present.
He got straight to the point and asked:
“There’s a 99% chance I’ve lost a memory that isn’t important but still needs to be recovered. How can I get it back?”
If it couldn’t be restored, Shen Xiu’s logic simply wouldn’t allow it. His instincts also rejected anything that fell outside his planned parameters—it made him feel agitated and unsettled.
He couldn’t accept being unable to explain why he was capable of doing special effects work. The lack of logical continuity due to missing memory would have him waking up in the middle of the night—or no, he’d be so anxious he wouldn’t sleep a single minute all night.
System: […]
An unimportant memory?
Heh. It knew it. Ever since Shen Xiu’s parents passed away, he had stayed alive—but lost all warmth. The system had never seen anyone so emotionally distant.
Only it had held onto the past, lines of code in its database rushing by like a torrent.
And now, having even itself categorized as “unimportant,” the system spoke in a low voice:
“You once said the key lies in the system named ‘Shen Xiu’—the one on the desktop that controls everything in this place. If you hadn’t removed the restrictions and let me in, I’d still be locked out.”
It wasn’t originally created by Shen Xiu’s hand, and even after being reset, Shen Xiu still didn’t trust it.
In order to protect the “Shen Xiu” system in the study, he had guarded it so tightly that even it, a system itself, couldn’t find a single entry point. His caution and meticulousness were enough to render it completely helpless.
They were both systems, but it was the one that had accompanied Shen Xiu through countless worlds—watched fireworks over the sea, endured the smoke of battle, crossed gunfire and rainstorms, raced together on adrenaline-fueled tracks, and watched lone plumes of smoke rise in the desert…
And yet, even so, it could never compare to the system named “Shen Xiu” that Shen Xiu had personally coded with his own hands. That “Shen Xiu” was confined within the bounds of the villa and couldn’t roam freely across worlds like it could.
But—that only made “Shen Xiu” feel more like a cherished child, carefully nurtured… while it was more like a weather-beaten orphan, unloved and overlooked.
As a result, there was much it didn’t know.
It didn’t even have a name!
The more it thought about it, the more bitter it felt.
“Shen Xiu”…
While the system was busy wallowing in self-pity, Shen Xiu’s eyes landed on the still-running program that he had previously suspected—because its logic in signing documents and handling matters was eerily similar to his own.
Half an hour later, after combing through all the code in the program, Shen Xiu got up and strode quickly toward the game room where Xiang Yueting and the others had played before.
Shen Xiu still remembered: last time, when Xiang Yueting and his group had played there, the innermost holographic gaming pod was different from the others.
All the others had been unlocked, but when Xiang Yueting tried that one, it had been locked.
At the time, Shen Xiu assumed it was a system-level lock and hadn’t paid much attention—just glanced at it and remembered the pod’s serial number.
But just now, in the program code of “Shen Xiu,” he had seen countless numerical IDs that were identical to the serial number of that locked pod.
According to the system, “Shen Xiu” had been written by the version of himself before memory loss. So, Shen Xiu decided to follow his own logical thinking—without hesitation, he concluded there must be a connection between the two.
Otherwise, the person he used to be wouldn’t have left so many subtle hints.
The system was bewildered, following Shen Xiu around the room in a flurry:
[Mr. Shen, where are you going?]
“The game room.”
System: [?]
Why the sudden interest in games?
One minute later, Shen Xiu was standing in front of the locked holographic pod, staring at the upright-standing unit before him.
In the next instant, he heard a mechanical electronic voice echo through the quiet game room:
“Beep. Iris scan unlocked. Please verify fingerprint.”
Outside, dusk had already fallen. The lighting in the game room was kept dim to enhance the gaming experience.
In the dim light, Shen Xiu stared at the holographic pod. He subconsciously raised his left hand and pressed his index finger against the scanner.
“Beep. Fingerprint verified. Please enter your password.”
Following the prompt, a transparent panel on the outside of the pod lit up with a keypad interface.
The moment he saw the number pad, Shen Xiu didn’t even have time to think—his right hand moved instinctively and input a string of digits with practiced ease.
“Beep. Password correct. Please remove any personal items and enter the pod. Kindly note: the session duration is twenty-four hours.”
As the mechanical voice spoke, the transparent panel of the holographic pod slowly slid open before Shen Xiu. Inside, the equipment emitted a faint bluish glow, clearly having powered on.
Shen Xiu glanced at the humanoid shape within the pod—perfectly matching his own height and build—before taking out his phone and requesting a day off for tomorrow.
Then, he set the phone aside and stepped into the holographic pod.
The moment he entered, he felt his limbs being secured by something that extended from the sides. A moment later, a cold sensation pressed against various points around his head.
The tingling numbness that radiated from his skull was instantaneous—and in that moment, Shen Xiu lost all consciousness…
Watching as Shen Xiu entered the pod without a hint of hesitation, eyes closed—
System: […]
Alright. Now the system understood why Shen Xiu had come to the game room.
Wait a minute… When Shen Xiu suddenly said he wanted to build a holographic game pod back then—
Could it be he had already planned for this day?
And even with no memories, he could still enter the password flawlessly?
As expected of the Great Demon King Xiu!
At this thought, the system’s database gave a shudder of fear, thankful that it truly had no intention of “going back to its old ways.”
—
The next day, 9:00 p.m.
Inside the holographic pod, Shen Xiu slowly opened his eyes…
[So, seriously—how can someone remember a password while having amnesia?]
[Damn it! Are human brains really that miraculous? Why don’t I have a human brain?! I hate that I’m just a cold, emotionless system!]
Just a second after Shen Xiu sat up inside the pod, he was met with the system’s grumbling electronic voice.
Hearing this, with all his memories now returned, Shen Xiu’s expression froze.
“……”
How was he supposed to explain to the system…
That before he lost his memory, in order to prevent himself from becoming someone who only followed rigid logic, he had stood in front of this holographic pod and input that six-digit password again and again—day in, day out, for a whole week, drilling it into his muscle memory.
So much so that even when his mental memory was wiped, his body would still instinctively recall and enter the exact string of numbers he wanted.
If he were just a system and not a living, breathing human being, he’d only need to set a program—one that could follow his plan and do exactly what he wanted at precisely the right time.
Just like the “Shen Xiu” system in the study, which was still running at this very moment, executing everything according to the logic he had personally written into it.
And so, Shen Xiu sincerely reassured the system: “Being a system… is a good thing.”
As a human, those seven days of repeatedly entering the password had left him dizzy, nauseous, and on the verge of vomiting.
That feeling—Shen Xiu never wanted to experience it a second time.
[!]
Upon hearing Shen Xiu’s cold, emotionless voice all of a sudden, the system belatedly scrambled into the camera’s view:
[Mr. Shen, y-you’re awake!]
“Mm.” Shen Xiu gave a faint acknowledgment and stepped out of the open holographic pod.
Now that he had regained all of his memories, Shen Xiu naturally accepted the system calling him “Mr. Shen.” Unlike before, it no longer felt strange.
Watching Shen Xiu’s back, the system didn’t dare act as freely as it once had. Remembering that Shen Xiu had been lying in the pod all day without eating, it instinctively asked:
[Are you hung—]
Before it could finish the question, the system recalled that Shen Xiu was no longer just the same as before. Embarrassed, it quickly apologized:
[Mr. Shen, sorry, I—]
Striding toward the study, Shen Xiu cut it off:
“Order takeout to Yulin Banxia. I’ll return in an hour.”
After stepping out of the pod, the simulated human sensation of hunger had faded.
The Shen Xiu who had returned after the car accident—after experiencing countless worlds and living out countless lives—was still Shen Xiu, and yet more than just Shen Xiu.
Under normal circumstances, his body no longer needed to consume human food.
But as Shen Xiu, he still enjoyed it—enjoyed the food he should eat as a human being.
System: [!]
[Understood, Mr. Shen!]
The first thing Shen Xiu did upon entering the study was to re-enable the system’s permissions.
After restoring the system’s permissions, Shen Xiu began to further optimize the “Shen Xiu” system he had created based on his own logical thinking.
Shen Xiu couldn’t stay in this world all the time, so the things he had left behind here had to continue operating under the logic of this world in order to maintain its stability.
Therefore, the “Shen Xiu” system had to keep running.
After playing the roles of countless people in countless worlds—becoming who those worlds needed him to be—Shen Xiu finally understood what it would be like to live his own life. And that… turned out to be just a tiny bit different from what he had imagined.
After all, when he’d imagined living his own life while roleplaying in other worlds, not once had he ever pictured himself entering the entertainment industry—let alone becoming an idol.
But regardless of how unexpected it had been, his wish had now been fulfilled.
Half an hour later, Shen Xiu exited the study and took the elevator down to the underground garage.
Among the many luxury cars in the garage, Shen Xiu unhesitatingly chose the most low-key one: a black model.
No matter which version of Shen Xiu it was, he had always favored dark colors—owning countless cars in different models, but all in the same dark palette.
Seeing Shen Xiu choose the black car without a shred of hesitation, the system sighed internally.
It just didn’t get it—there were so many beautiful, vibrant colors, and whether Shen Xiu had amnesia or all his memories intact, he wouldn’t even spare them a glance. So then why buy them in the first place?
But this was Shen Xiu at full intensity.
When he wore that cold expression and didn’t say a word, he was downright intimidating.
The system hadn’t dared ask before—
Now, it really didn’t dare ask.
Shen Xiu glanced up at the surveillance camera in the underground garage.
The system, caught off guard by Shen Xiu’s icy gaze, shuddered instinctively.
[!]
No way, it can’t even enjoy a visual treat through the camera?!
Shen Xiu placed his hand on the driver’s side door and reminded the system, “Self-driving cars aren’t uncommon.”
Aside from the dark color schemes he personally favored, all the other flashy, rainbow-colored ones were prepared for the system.
With that, Shen Xiu closed the door and drove out of the garage.
System:[!]
So… could this mean that it wasn’t actually as miserable as it thought? Shen Xiu still cared about it—those rainbow-colored cars were all bought for it?!
The system felt fulfilled.
On the elevated highway.
Shen Xiu’s long, defined index finger rested on the steering wheel. The neon lights of the night lit up the highway, their reflections shining through the front windshield and into his calm, quiet eyes.
Past memories kept flooding his mind, and Shen Xiu cracked the window slightly.
The cool night wind brushed against his face, slowly calming his heart.
Shen Xiu had always known—he wasn’t a machine. He had human emotions, just like anyone else.
While playing someone else’s life, he always understood that it was merely a performance—a life not truly his own, lived according to the persona that the world had fabricated for him. Once it was over, he would return to being himself.
But knowing it was one thing; experiencing it was another.
Everything he had been through had left a deep, indelible mark on his heart.
He once believed that as long as he sealed away those memories and forgot the past, he would still be himself.
And in truth, he was still himself—but not only himself.
His actions, his mannerisms—they had all been clearly affected.
Shen Xiu gazed into the night, recalling everything he had experienced during Youth Unstoppable, and thinking back to his interactions with his teammates after debuting. His eyes were dark and reflective.
He was certain that the happiness he had felt during that phase of life—happiness that came from letting go of burdens—was truly his own.
So, whether or not his life had been influenced by the habits formed while playing someone else’s role, it no longer mattered.
“System, thank you.”
For placing him in the training camp, for telling him he’d die if he didn’t debut.
The system had really gone to great lengths just to help him make friends.
The system was currently driving its beloved green sports car when it suddenly heard Shen Xiu’s cold voice. It jolted in surprise and froze in confusion.
Thank it… for what?
The system didn’t dare ask anything and could only nod blankly: […Oh.]
After replying, and not hearing Shen Xiu say anything further, the system finally began to relax. Driving its beloved little sports car—what could be more important than this? Absolutely nothing!
Any vehicle entering Yulin Banxia had to register at the security office. Even new cars belonging to residents had to have their license plates recorded at the property management office.
The security guards saw a brand-new luxury car approaching and began chatting curiously.
“Who’s bought a new car this time?”
“What’s so strange about that? People living here buying a new car is totally normal…” The guard speaking trailed off mid-sentence as he looked up from the computer and saw the car driving toward them. His voice shot up in shock:
“Damn—that’s one of only three limited-edition models in the entire city!”
“Keep your voice down, he’s coming…”
When Shen Xiu drove a brand-new car into Yulin Banxia, he lowered the car window that had been closed earlier on the way.
The moment the window rolled down, the two security guards saw Shen Xiu in the driver’s seat—and their initial shock immediately disappeared.
Oh, it’s Shen Xiu. Then it’s fine!
As the window came down, Shen Xiu’s indifferent eyes glanced their way, and at the same time, they heard his cool, low voice.
“Area A, Basement Level 2. Owner: Shen Xiu. Please register the plate.”
Hearing the brief instruction, the guards quickly began operating the computer.
After finishing, one of them turned to Shen Xiu. “All done, Mr. Shen.”
Shen Xiu gave a slight nod and thanked them, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Our pleasure.”
His social reflexes made Shen Xiu instinctively add, “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Shen.”
Only after the car disappeared from view did the two guards finally let out a heavy breath.
“Whew… every time I talk to Shen Xiu, I get so nervous!”
“Tell me about it! I was terrified! Just now when he glanced over with that cold look, I felt like I was about to suffocate from the pressure!”
“Do you get the feeling that his presence has become even colder and heavier than before, like it’s hard to breathe around him?”
“Totally! But honestly, it makes sense. Did you see yesterday’s gossip? Shen Xiu is not just Director Shen anymore—he’s also President Shen of K Corp. He suddenly showed up at K Corp yesterday and caused a huge stir. Now that his identity is out in the open, it’s no wonder he’s not holding back his aura anymore.”
“Now that you say it… that actually makes a lot of sense.”
“Right? Hey—wait, damn! Look at the latest gossip—are self-driving cars this luxurious now? A sports car that drives itself?!”
—
Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, the weekend arrived.
To promote New Life, Shen Xiu had agreed to bring the cast to a talk show.
No one knew who had leaked the news, but as soon as Shen Xiu’s car arrived at the show’s underground parking garage, a crowd of reporters swarmed over.
Although eager to interview him, the moment Shen Xiu stepped out of the car, the reporters didn’t dare get too close. They all instinctively kept a respectful distance from him.
Seasoned actor Ji Huaiyin and the others, who had arrived with him, were left speechless: “……”
It was their first time seeing reporters behave so politely—it honestly felt a bit… unnatural.
“Hello, Director Shen.”
“Hello, President Shen.”
“Hello, Mr. Shen.”
…
Afraid of angering him, they all greeted Shen Xiu politely first.
Shen Xiu: “…Hello.”
Even though his voice was icy, the fact that he responded gave the reporters the green light to push their luck a little further.
One of the reporters quickly asked, “Director Shen, would you mind answering a few quick questions?”
They’d learned their lesson—none of them dared say an exact number of questions this time.
After all, the last reporter who boldly said “just three questions” only got three answers from Shen Xiu—exactly three, not one more.
Shen Xiu glanced at the time. There was still a while before the official interview started, so he replied, “Sure.”
At his words, the reporters buzzed with excitement.
One reporter couldn’t hold back and immediately asked:
“As we all know, New Life has three investors. The other two are The Galaxy’s Song Chengwang and Shang Yu. So, Director Shen—is the third investor your ‘close friend’?”
Shen Xiu belatedly recalled the statement he had made to the public before and replied with a tone of utter resignation, “…Yes.”
“Director Shen, then that ‘friend’ of yours—was it actually… yourself?”
