Beings across the galaxy began speculating: could Shanhui and Yujin actually be the same person, just like Yujin and Wenhuo? Otherwise, how could there be such an incredible coincidence? Two different novelists, and both were somehow entangled with the Zerg?

Some netizens even started making jokes. They claimed that Yujin was the worst novelist on Blue Planet at keeping a secret identity, with every pen name getting exposed within three days.

Xi Yujin silently watched the discussion before silently shutting down his optical computer.

It wasn't that he disliked the Shanhui persona. Every work written under every pen name was crafted with care, but he still felt a little dissatisfied.

It was like using apples as the flagship product of a fruit store, only for every customer to insist that bananas tasted better.

Why did my identity get exposed again?

No. He had to come up with another way to salvage the situation.

"The idea of having my other pen names interact with Shanhui won't work anymore." Xi Yujin fell into thought. "But I can have another pen name create something flashy enough to attract readers' attention and gradually make them forget Shanhui exists."

He reviewed all eight of his aliases before settling on one.

"Then it's decided, Gothic Lady Jung!"

...

"I want something that encourages lots of reader interaction. Jung has experience organizing large collaborative projects, so she's perfect for this."

Xi Yujin already had a new idea. He ran to the central hall of Tidal Peace, took a photograph of the stellar-system-shaped balloon, then created a brand-new website on the Black Box and began filling it with his ideas.

Naturally, Gano became its first visitor. Looking at the site, he asked in confusion, "Why are there so many black censor bars?"

Xi Yujin smiled. "Because not knowing the whole picture is the essence of the archive."

...

Blue Planet Forum

 [

Jung: "The Stellar Family Medical Records 10,000-Entry Submission Contest has begun! I look forward to everyone's new creations, and I hope all our stellar doctors will make proper use of their voting rights. Your votes will determine whether a medical record is officially archived."

—

"It's Jung! Goddess!! Are you publishing a new work?"

—

"A submission contest out of nowhere? What's Stellar Family Medical Records?"

—

Jung replied: "This isn't an official event. On Blue Planet, it began as a website maintained by enthusiasts, relying entirely on voluntary contributions. I thought creating a galactic version would be even more enjoyable. Here's the link."

—

"Thanks, Jung! Please share more Blue Planet websites!"

—

"Wow, so many familiar authors are participating..."

—

"Haha, is nobody using new pen names this time?"

 ]

...

Amid the joking comments, Daike clicked into the Stellar Family Medical Records. The title alone struck it as bizarre. What did stars have to do with families? And why a medical record?

When the webpage finished loading, the first thing that caught its attention was the promotional image covering most of the screen. It showed an out-of-focus balloon whose shape vaguely resembled a stellar system. Beneath it were large words:

"All staff of YBT Hospital celebrate FS-118's 118th birthday! May it enjoy endless blessings and a long life!"

Daike immediately sensed an air of absurdity. The next moment, a warning window popped up.

[

WARNING. You have been detected as being at risk of memetic contamination from FS-118. Please remain calm. Click Confirm, then stare at the image that appears for three seconds to receive an anti-memetic antibody injection. Afterward, you may safely browse the Medical Records. If you refuse inoculation, Security will initiate on-site rescue procedures in accordance with Regulation 19. Please be advised.

] 

What is all this?!

Completely bewildered, Daike nevertheless followed the instructions. After clicking Confirm, it stared at a watercolor painting for three seconds. Then, a message appeared:

[

Your mental condition is normal. We hope it remains the same while browsing the Medical Records. From ▇▇

]

For some reason, Daike felt unexpectedly immersed. It was as if they were truly entering the archives, and terrible dangers lurked inside. But curiosity overpowered everything, and today, it would solve this mystery.

The page returned to normal. The upper half was labeled Medical Records, containing numerous archived files. Below was a Library, apparently filled with short stories. A voting panel occupied the sidebar.

Daike first opened the introductory document.

[

Greetings, unknown doctor, nurse, E-Class personnel, or star. Welcome to the Medical Records.

If anything in this document causes headaches, please cease reading immediately and notify your supervisor or any Hospital Director to administer Class-A memory erasure. Should you insist on continuing, congratulations. You will break the Fourth Wall.

This Medical Records universe originated from a photograph: FS-118, a balloon-shaped stellar system that attracts tiny particles to orbit it like asteroids. During ▇▇ year, ▇▇ month, a Blue Planet ▇▇ uploaded its photograph online, inspiring countless fan creations. Netizens imagined that it possessed unimaginable destructive power while harboring the lonely heart of someone desperately seeking attention. The contrast made it an internet sensation.

Three months later, a Blue Planet ▇▇ proposed: "What if it really were a star... just a sick one?" Thus, a medical record was created, giving birth to the Medical Records Universe.

Within this universe, certain stars possess consciousness and imitate star-related objects or ▇▇. They generally wield extraordinary powers and await the moment they will destroy the world. Most cannot communicate. Yet their behavior follows certain patterns. If we can understand their survival rules, perhaps we may delay the destruction of the universe.

The Hospital exists as our bridge for exploring and understanding these stars.

We embrace them. We communicate with them. We remain hopeful.

At present, many medical records have been archived. Every file begins with FS, standing for Fixed Star.

]

Daike understood a little.

"So it's a collaborative project by Blue Planet netizens, anthropomorphizing stars while different writers add their own settings. But... what's supposed to be fun about this?"

Then it noticed a plus sign beneath the document. Curiously, it clicked. Another warning appeared.

[

WARNING! You are attempting to access Version 1.0 of the Introduction Document. This version is restricted to Hospital Directors. Please present your access credentials and written approval from every Director except yourself.

]

Present Credentials and several similar buttons appeared underneath.

So I'm apparently an important figure on this website?

Daike clicked Present Credentials. It stared at another strange picture for three seconds, confirming that it hadn't suffered memetic contamination. By now it had guessed that a meme referred to some kind of abnormal mental imprint. The entire process greatly enhanced the sense of ritual and immersion.

A much simpler text box appeared.

[

File Number: FS-118. 

Threat Level: Extreme Hazard. 

Current Status: Relatively Stable.

Characteristics: A genuine star compressed to the size of a balloon, with six planets orbiting it. Capable of communication.

Description: FS-118 possesses the personality of a child. Should its emotions spiral out of control, it will manifest dimensional-collapse abilities, flattening all matter within 118 light-years into two-dimensional surfaces with no possibility of restoration. Its emotional instability appears rooted in cognition: it believes that it's a mentally ill child abandoned by the Stellar Family, wandering the universe in loneliness. Psychological evaluations indicate that it longs for friends, craves novelty, and possesses an extremely fragile and sensitive heart. It cannot accept anything outside its worldview. Its favorite number is 118.

Treatment Protocol: Hospital staff must strictly maintain the illusion that the Hospital is real. Personnel should address one another using medical titles. Occasionally cooperate with FS-118's games, acknowledge the existence of the Stellar Family, and gently restrain inappropriate behavior. If FS-118 mentions the number 118, be aware that the number may have been fabricated. If discussion of FS-118 becomes necessary in reality, pretend to originate from another universe and claim that your actions merely involve editing documents on a website.

Contact History: Twenty-three E-Class personnel were deployed during one emotional episode. Twenty-two collapsed into single pixels. Only one survived. Investigation revealed that the survivor had once worked as a kindergarten teacher and genuinely treated FS-118 as a child, thereby calming it. During this encounter, FS-118 claimed to possess an ability even more terrifying than dimensional flattening. Its truthfulness remains unknown.

"This is the first medical record in the archive. Hopefully it will be the last. The Stellar Family can't actually exist... can it?" From Blue Planet ▇▇▇.

]

"The twist... that actually scared me."

Sitting before the optical computer, Daike felt its scalp tingle. That harmless-looking balloon from earlier... was actually something so terrifying.

The Hospital's true purpose wasn't hopeful communication at all. Its staff was tremblingly role-playing in hopes of preventing the destruction of their universe. Even the introductory document itself was part of the act.

Daike felt a strange sense of immersion. It knew that Introduction Version 2.0 contained the real history. That the entire project originated from a photograph and collaborative internet creativity. Yet if it explained that story to someone else, it would unknowingly fulfill the requirements of Version 1.0. It felt like a quantum observer constantly jumping between overlapping realities.

The editor's note hoped that the Stellar Family did not truly exist. But judging from the website... the archive was already filling with more and more medical records. There were many stars just as terrifying as FS-118.

Daike suddenly became fascinated with exploring the Medical Records Universe. Near the bottom of the page, it noticed additional notes.

[

1. To protect doctors' mental health, the ▇▇ within the Medical Records cannot be removed.

]

"The black bars really do make everything feel more mysterious..." Daike nodded.

The next note read:

[

2. Several interactions are available within the Medical Records, including but not limited to: clicking plus signs, clicking question marks, expanding images, nested hyperlinks, and inverting all colors. All of the above can be performed within this very introduction.

]

Daike realized only Invert All Colors remained untested. It dragged across the screen, turning the white background black and the black text white. That was the inversion function.

At that instant, a new line of tiny text appeared at the bottom of the page:

[

Hehehehehehehe... The 118th cycle. FS-118

]

Daike froze. Its entire body went rigid.

So FS-118 knew about Introduction Version 1.0? Could its hidden ability, even more terrifying than flattening dimensions, actually be time loops?

Perhaps it didn't rewind the universe only once. Perhaps it had done so 118 times.

Humanity might have already been destroyed over and over again, while FS-118 continued returning joyfully, as though repeatedly rediscovering its favorite toy.

What a horrifying balloon.

But... Version 1.0 also stated that FS-118 loved the number 118 and sometimes fabricated occurrences involving it. And FS-118 possessed the mind of a child. Could this simply be another prank? Maybe all it wanted was a hospital willing to take it in, even if that hospital itself was fake.

I want to know the truth so badly! Why wasn't there an official explanation? This was no different from an answer key that simply said 'omitted.'

Curiosity gnawed at Daike's heart.

"I think I finally understand what's so fun about these Medical Records. The fun is that they play with the readers." Its tentacles trembled excitedly.

It noticed commentary beneath the file discussing other medical records and immediately clicked through, reading one after another. The ingenious ideas left it astonished. At that moment, Daike had to admit that the Medical Records Universe was genuinely fascinating.

Soon, discussion erupted across the forums.

"The Medical Records are so much fun!"

"Exactly! Just having stars that destroy universes wouldn't be especially novel. The genius is the role-playing interaction. Readers only see the first layer of the story at first, then they perform various actions to uncover the second layer. Finally, they have to read other readers' analyses to glimpse the third layer. Best of all, every interpretation works because the author never reveals the correct answer. Fear born from the unknown is the most immersive fear of all."

"As long as readers never know the truth, they'll keep guessing, and they'll keep being afraid forever!"

"This is amazing! Solving the mysteries is so much fun. The Medical Records written by the Blue Planet authors are all fascinating. I want to become E-Class personnel! Let me join the Hospital!"

Another user replied: "Do you even know what E-Class personnel actually do? Go read Yongye's medical record, FS-1225: E-Class Personnel."

...

E-Class personnel were a special designation within the Hospital. Their job was to conduct life-threatening experiments to probe the abilities of different stars. In theory, E-Class personnel were composed of Blue Planet death-row inmates. However, because the attrition rate was so high, they were later produced primarily through the cloning abilities of FS-1111.

In the medical record written by Yongye, the subject was FS-1225. Its mimic form was completely invisible, and even its gravitational pull was perfectly concealed. It posed no threat to humanity. Yet one of the Hospital's senior researchers constantly forced E-Class personnel to perform utterly pointless experiments within that stellar system. Rather than scientific testing, it was little more than cruel amusement.

One E-Class worker had committed the crime of heresy. Seeking redemption, he silently endured everything, but he couldn't bear to watch his companions suffer. During one experiment, he sacrificed himself so that another E-Class worker could escape from the Hospital, while he himself perished in the flames of the invisible star.

At first glance, it appeared to be a story about resisting injustice. But after readers uncovered the second layer of the mystery, they discovered that the real file revealed something entirely different: the E-Class worker described at such length was actually the star undergoing treatment.

Again and again it threw itself into the fire. Again and again it forged a new body. After every rebirth, it would naturally blend into the Hospital staff and begin working there. The Hospital only discovered its existence because, during a personnel count, there was one extra E-Class worker.

They even tried relocating the Hospital. Yet FS-1225 always managed to find the new location and would report to work punctually the very next morning.

During ▇▇ Experiment, an entire Hospital branch mobilized 200 E-Class personnel and 13 doctors, all of them cooperating in an elaborate game of pretend with FS-1225, acting out the roles of an honest and upright institution. Unfortunately, when there were no "villains" left for FS-1225 to rebel against. It concluded that the entire branch must be evil and attempted to organize all the stars into a mass jailbreak.

To keep it stable, the Hospital was forced, in every cycle, to sacrifice six E-Class personnel, who pretended to be oppressed prisoners, and one E-Class personnel member disguised as a corrupt senior researcher.

FS-1225's alias became: the Star of Sacrificial Rebirth.

"This is truly Yongye's style." Readers commented beneath the story. "You used narrative misdirection again! When the E-Class worker sacrificed himself at the beginning, I actually cried a little. I even wondered if Yongye had changed his nature, but it turned out that Yongye is still the same Yongye."

Jung commented: "I voted in favor of this one. It's an endless tragedy, carrying the same sense of futility as Sisyphus."

As word spread through the forums, readers quickly tracked down the Medical Records written by other famous novelists.

Fuling's contribution was titled The Sound of a Crying Child, which was a warm story.

[

FS-601 was an enormous aging star on the verge of death that remained stable only by hearing the screams of children. Thus, the Hospital branch established a Nightmare Project Team, sneaking into children's bedrooms every night to frighten them and collect recordings of their screams.

But one night, a nurse failed to scare a child. Instead, she accidentally revealed her own identity. To erase the child's memory, she had no choice but to hide the child inside the Hospital while desperately searching for one of the Hospital's memory-erasing capsules.

The child behaved obediently. After witnessing countless strange and wonderful things, the child considered it a marvelous adventure. Gradually, the nurse and the child became close.

Just as the nurse finally stole a memory capsule and prepared to send the child home... FS-601 suddenly entered a critical state and was about to explode. Faced with a choice, the nurse decided to send the child away first before returning to carry out the emergency treatment procedures.

The child realized that the nurse was going to die. In panic, the child burst into tears. Amid the sound of those sobs... FS-601 gradually stabilized.

Years later, that child became the only person who knew what the Hospital truly was and still insisted on joining its medical staff.

The nurse commented: "Congratulations. You've entered the endless hell of professional titles*."

]

...

Some readers remarked: "It's supposedly about stars, yet it's really about the people confronting those stars. The Medical Records are stories of stars, but also stories of humanity."

Jung, acting as the site's administrator, left her own comment: "Destroyed by children. Saved by children."

"The 10,000-Entry Contest is getting intense. I can't decide whether to vote for Yongye or Fuling."

Another user replied: "There's no prize and no fixed number of winners. Just submit your favorite story under any number between 1 and 10,000. Don't worry, I voted for both."

Another comment read: "Xunming's entry is unexpectedly hilarious. Please go read it."

Xunming's Medical Record was titled FS-1001: After Changing My Gender, I Successfully Saved the World.

Every section of the document was blacked out. Only after readers completed a second round of puzzle-solving did a diary appear.

It belonged to a doctor with ten years of experience, and his final assignment was photographing various stars.

But during his work, he suddenly received shocking news that the Hospital leadership was infected by a meme. They began slaughtering Hospital employees and planned to release every star under containment, accelerating the destruction of the universe. They even intended to tell FS-118 that the Hospital had been deceiving it all along, ensuring the mutual destruction of every living thing.

The doctor thought: "The Hospital leadership is destroying the universe. I have to stop them."

To enhance his chances of success, he injected himself with a love potion that made anyone who smelled him become hopelessly infatuated with him. The price... was a complete sex change.

He, or now perhaps she, didn't care. Charging into the executive offices, the doctor used every possible charm and seduction until the internal conflict finally dissolved in a haze of pink bubbles. At the end of the story, the doctor retired successfully.

But if readers inverted the colors of the diary, hidden numbers appeared. Putting them together revealed another Medical Record.

[

File Number: 1001. 

Threat Level: Extreme Hazard. 

Current Status: Extremely Stable.

Characteristics. A star disguised as a camera from twenty years ago. A permanent star sticker always exists somewhere on its body. It cannot be removed.

Description. Photographing ordinary objects causes no abnormalities. However, photographing a human causes that human to transform into a medium-sized star three months later. Every transformed person becomes the exact same star. An entire stellar cluster has now formed. These human-created stars are designated 1001-1, and they age at astonishing speed. Observations from the Buzhou Mountain* Observatory indicate that their accelerated aging is dramatically increasing the entropy of the universe. If the number of 1001-1 stars exceeds 10,000, all physical laws may cease functioning, and the consequences would be unimaginable.

(Update 2.0) A temporary employee used the camera to take a panoramic photograph of half the company. More than 10,000 people were captured. Employee elimination procedures initiated.

(Update 3.0) 1001 possesses memetic contamination abilities. It successfully infected one employee and instructed him to find a way to lift the elimination process. The employee used a by-product of the ▇▇ experiment to enchant Hospital leadership, allowing 1001-1 to incubate safely inside Hospital employees. It remains unknown whether this behavior resulted from 1001's survival instinct.

Note. We know the truth. But because we've been enchanted, we cannot move. We can only helplessly watch as the universe perishes...

]

...

The Medical Records' new collaborative format sparked another explosion of submissions. This time, the judges weren't Yujin. They were thousands upon thousands of Stellar Family enthusiasts.

Whenever a new record was submitted, it would first appear in a temporary public area. Only after receiving enough approval votes would it be moved into the official archive. This system ensured that every archived record maintained a high quality standard.

"Has everyone read Xunming's Medical Record? I thought it would be a light comedy. When the doctor started seducing the executives, I laughed so hard I nearly died. Only at the ending did I realize how naïve I was. But I still couldn't stop laughing. We'll just have to watch the universe end. Honestly, maybe nobody should bother getting a job anymore. Let's all just let it rot*."

"One thing I find fascinating is that humanity in the Medical Records Universe has already survived several cycles of universal destruction and recreation. The Hospital only survives thanks to advanced technology and the protection of other stars before rebuilding Blue Planet in the new universe. That somehow makes the Hospital seem hilariously incompetent."

"So thrilling! The twists just keep piling on top of each other! My favorite part is solving the mysteries myself."

"I love that the Medical Records say only users with high-level clearance can read certain files, but every reader who logs into the website automatically has high-level clearance. It really makes me feel like I'm a Hospital Director with special privileges. It's oddly satisfying."

Xi Yujin watched the readers' reactions with satisfaction. His backend was indeed receiving a flood of submissions.

But he hadn't forgotten his original objective, which was to divert readers' attention away from Shanhui. He opened the Blue Planet forums again, hoping that people would stop talking about Shanhui and start discussing the Medical Records instead.

Among the countless discussions, one thread was rapidly climbing in replies.

"Has anyone considered that Yujin and Shanhui really aren't the same person? Everyone knows the same trick isn't fresh the second time around. Maybe Yujin himself is just as helpless about all this."

The moment Xi Yujin saw the post, his eyes lit up. Finally, someone had proposed that possibility. If all went well, a whole group of readers would start wandering down the wrong line of reasoning and drift farther and farther from the truth.

The original poster laid out their reasoning carefully:

"First, the timeline doesn't match. Shanhui did so many things in Third-Rate Lover. When would Yujin have time for all that? According to the other Blue Planet novelists, Yujin's timeline should be: became famous on Blue Planet, wrote masterpieces, was banned from writing, founded the Reader's Digest, became a diplomat, began deep-space voyages, established the universal edition of the Reader's Digest, and met the translator Gano. It simply doesn't line up with Shanhui.

Second, look at the reactions of the other novelists. If Shanhui really were Yujin's alternate identity, surely someone would interact with him. Yujin isn't the sort of person who threatens people into silence, and the other writers certainly aren't obedient enough to keep quiet. The total lack of interaction is extremely suspicious."

Many readers paused to think because the logic seemed surprisingly convincing. The more they thought about it, the more they believed Shanhui and Yujin were different people. But the implications became increasingly unsettling.

"So Yujin really did go to Zerg territory and Shanhui really did experience that turbulent first half of his life there. They probably met each other in Zerg territory. Maybe Yujin was even the one who rescued Shanhui."

Another replied: "But Yujin claims he doesn't know Shanhui... and Shanhui also acts like he doesn't know any Blue Planet novelists."

Someone else added: "Yujin returned from Zerg territory and married his translator Gano... and Blue Planet suddenly has a Zerg Intermarriage Memorial..."

Another concluded: "There must be some hidden truth behind all this! Someone send detectives immediately!"

"I agree that those three events have to be connected somehow. But no matter how much I think about it, I can't imagine the real answer. I thought I'd read enough detective fiction, but now, I realize how poor my imagination actually is."

"I have a bold theory. Shanhui... is actually Yujin's mortal enemy!!"

From that point onward, the thread took a completely different turn.

"One day, Yujin traveled through a wormhole to search for his beloved Gano. But unexpectedly, he encountered another member of his own race living in Zerg territory, Shanhui. What Yujin never imagined was that Shanhui had already fallen in love with Gano. Where will this love triangle lead?"

"You might as well say that Shanhui is Yujin's long-lost younger brother, just like the protagonist and their elder brother in Third-Rate Lover, meeting again on the ice fields, regretting that they met too late, remaining proper and restrained until everything ended without resolution."

Someone else laughed: "Hahahahaha! Just wait until the moderators ban all of you. The moderators' very first long narrative poem devoted an entire chapter to praise the love between Yujin and Gano."

Sure enough, only a few seconds later, those comments disappeared.

Inside the working area of Tidal Peace, the little Rustlings grumbled among themselves while sharing screenshots of the bizarre forum comments they encountered.

Xi Yujin originally looked forward to seeing readers' wild theories, but he could only sit silently before his optical computer now. Maybe it would've been better if everyone just assumed that Shanhui and Yujin were the same person after all.

"The more that's said, the more mistakes get made. I need another way to distract everyone's attention..."

As Xi Yujin pondered his next move, Tidal Peace's alert system suddenly chimed. The star charts detected a large civilization nearby, and the Black Box signal status was Semi-Open.

Visitors were welcome, but only if they strictly obeyed local laws. Otherwise, they would be expelled.

The civilization's name was Fangquan Peninsula.