Chapter 248 The Nineteenth Day of Entering a Restricted Novel

Chapter 248: The Nineteenth Day of Being Trapped in an R-Rated Novel

Hmm? An Yi was a bit surprised.

He reached out and took the box, which felt slightly cool to the touch, sensing the delicate texture of the velvet cloth.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice calm, his fingertips absently tracing the rough surface of the box, where a trace of warmth from Chu Chen's pocket still seemed to linger.

"A gift," Chu Chen explained, looking at An Yi. "I noticed that you seem to have a keen interest in the starry sky, and the big-picture universe—things on a massive scale, things that have existed for eons. And when you gaze at them, your eyes take on a different look."

An Yi's eyes curved slightly. Was it that obvious?

He lowered his head and began to unwrap the box.

The moment he opened the lid, An Yi saw that inside was a stone.

A stone slice about half the size of his palm, deep black in color, its surface covered in fine pores and signs of melting and erosion—plain-looking, even a little rough around the edges.

It was exquisitely mounted on a sleek, minimalist matte silver metal base, the base having a sleek, cold, high-tech look to it, with a small toggle switch on the side.

It seemed to dawn on him. His fingers ran lightly over the cool metal base, and then he flipped the small switch.

A soft click.

A soft, pure white light bloomed from beneath the base, like moonlight waking up, shining up through the dark stone slice.

The light cut through the thinner, more translucent parts, revealing the stunning structure hidden inside.

Set in the dark stone were countless tiny crystals shimmering with a silvery-white glow.

They were packed tight, all different shapes—some like tiny diamonds, some like cracked ice, others like frozen starbursts. The instant the light hit them, they flared with a quiet, brilliant glow, like something from deep space.

It was a stunning, almost moving contrast to the dull, plain exterior.

For a second, he wasn't holding a rock—he was cradling a tiny, ancient, infinite universe in his palm.

The light spilled across his palm, and those stars locked away for billions of years seemed to wake up just for him.

"This is a thin slice of a Kira meteorite," Chu Chen explained from the side. "It's mainly a stony-iron meteorite. The glowing bits inside, confirmed by spectral analysis, are mostly nickel-iron crystals, plus a few other minerals. The original body it came from, based on radiometric dating, formed in the early solar nebula about 4.5 billion years ago—older than Earth's current estimated age."

He rattled off the cold scientific facts smoothly, then paused for a beat. He watched An Yi's profile as he stared at the glowing rock, the light tracing his jawline and catching in his eyes.

Chu Chen picked his words carefully before going on: "I think... it... looks pretty ordinary on the outside, and might even be called 'unremarkable' by some standards. But the crystal structure inside is really stable—it can hold up under extreme conditions. Moreover..."

He pointed at the crystals glittering under the light, as countless as stars in a river: "Under a specific wavelength of light, it shows a whole different side—complex and, uh... rich. And that's the thing..."

He looked at An Yi again, his eyes clear and honest: "I thought you might like it."

An Yi didn't answer right away.

He just stared at the ancient piece of starlight in his palm—one that had crossed billions of years and endless space to get here.

Vast nebulae unfurled silently like curtains in the dark; the raw energy of nuclear fusion inside stars, enough to burn everything to nothing; cold, dead planets left as ruins; the universe breathing, then dying.

This fragment in his hand, next to those vast, awe-inspiring cosmic scenes, was barely a speck—just a grain of sand in an endless river of time.

But right now, it was glowing in his palm.

So Chu Chen had noticed those brief, distant looks he sometimes gave the sky—looks he'd never even thought about himself.

And then he'd brought him this fragment, carrying the light of ancient stars and the secrets of the ages.

An Yi looked up. His eyes reflected the soft, radiant starlight from within the meteorite, and also the distant city skyline with its warm, human glow of city lights. His eyes looked especially deep, as if real stars were turning slowly inside them, being born and dying.

"Thanks," he said, his voice softer than usual, with clear joy in it. "I really like it."

Chu Chen saw the open smile in An Yi's eyes and heard him say so plainly that he liked it. Realizing his gift had gone over way better than he'd hoped, he lit up right away.

A grin spread across his face, showing a flash of white teeth: "Glad you like it!"

He said it, sounding light and satisfied, even letting out a relieved breath as his shoulders dropped.

An Yi found it kind of funny.

They kept walking slowly down the path, the mood between them even easier and warmer than before.

One hand hung loose at his side, the other absently playing with the little meteorite lamp.

His fingers kept flipping the switch, watching the tiny stars flare to life in his palm, lighting up those ancient nickel-iron crystals.

Then, with another soft click, he'd switch it off, letting the light die, leaving just a dark black slice full of secrets.

On and off, on and off—the light's rhythm seemed to match his steady heartbeat.

"An Yi," Chu Chen suddenly said his name again.

"Hmm?" An Yi answered, stopping the flicking, letting the starlight glow steady in his palm.

Chu Chen smiled. "I'm really happy today. Like, really happy."

An Yi turned his head to look at him.

Chu Chen was staring at him, not blinking, his eyes full of joy.

"Oh yeah? Because the gift worked out?" An Yi caught Chu Chen's glance at the lamp and asked softly, with a hint of a tease.

Chu Chen shook his head right away, his soft, slightly curly hair bouncing with the movement: "Not totally. The gift going well is part of it, but not the main reason."

He tried hard to put into words the jumble of feelings in his chest: "It's because... walking with you, seeing you like the gift, and also... earlier, when you..."

He stumbled, his ears turning visibly red, like he couldn't find the right words that wouldn't sound too "bold" to describe An Yi pulling him into his arms, blocking out the ugly world. In the end, he just skipped over the details:

"...Anyway, all of it together—the end result is I feel really, really happy. Happier than the rush of solving a hard problem, happier than the satisfaction of getting a perfect set of lab data."

"Even happier! I can't even describe it."

It was a totally emotional thing—something that didn't fit into logic or numbers.