The wind paused, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Yun Mengxi looked out at the silence she had personally "awakened," and the undercurrents of resonance and stinging pain flowing beneath it. She knew it was time to go deeper.
"But..."
The word was like a delicate key, turning the tumblers of the conversation. "Even though reality is so heavy, and the waves are so cold... I still want to know—"
She withdrew her gaze from the city and stared into the void, as if the primal core of the question hung suspended there.
"Dreams... what are they, really?"
This time, she wasn't asking the audience. It sounded more like a retrospective question to herself.
Her voice was low, almost a murmur, yet because of the surrounding silence, it was exceptionally clear, every word landing in the listeners' hearts.
"I used to be confused, too, like walking through fog. Until... I met a senior." A flash of Fu Hua's steady figure crossed her mind, bringing an involuntary smile to her face.
"She made me understand one thing. Something very simple, yet very easily forgotten."
She paused, organizing the words Fu Hua had said to her in the third loop, and the epiphany that had ultimately led her to choose to initiate the fourth loop herself.
"People and dreams... they are actually two different things," Yun Mengxi said slowly, her tone carrying the clarity of someone who has seen through the illusions.
"A person is a person. A dream is a dream.
"There is an invisible but very real line between them.
"A person isn't trapped by a dream for their whole life—if you truly feel 'trapped,' then what traps you might be your own obsession, fear, or something else entirely. But it is never the dream itself.
"And a dream doesn't gather dust or become great just because people chase it or give up on it.
"It's just there. Far away. In a... 'future' that we might reach if we can run toward it with all our might, without distractions, for our entire lives."
She used her clumsy words to paint that picture—
A long, straight road, with a shining dream at the end.
"But the path we walk is never that straight road."
Suddenly, her voice was tinged with the bitterness of reality. "Life has too many forks in the road, too many burdens to carry, too many accidents and drains on our energy.
"Our strength, time, and attention are stripped away bit by bit, like sand leaking through our fingers.
"And so, the distance we can actually move forward becomes much shorter than what was possible, and our steps slow down."
"Then, we look up." Yun Mengxi tilted her head slightly, her eyes looking toward the higher, farther night sky. "The dream is still there. Just as far away as we imagined, or perhaps... it looks even farther now.
"A huge gap appears between where we are in reality and the finish line we expected in our hearts. At that moment, something else quietly crawls up and grips your heart—
"Fear."
Her tone dropped slightly, bringing out a pervasive, icy sensation.
She spat out the word "Fear" gently, yet it pierced many chests like a shard of ice.
"Fear that the future has no landing place. Fear that complications will arise in the present. Even... fear of repeating the mistakes of the past."
She listed these invisible shackles. "In this world, there are too few people who can truly conquer fear... so few that it seems like... they are the anomalies.
"But... fear has another name: 'seeking advantage and avoiding harm.' That is the instinct of life protecting itself. It is almost a part of us, closer to our flesh and blood than dreams are."
"In comparison, that unattainable dream seems like a star hanging in the sky. Bright, beautiful... but not belonging to the human world, not belonging to us mortals ground down by life."
Her argument was clear and calm, almost brutally dissecting the universal psychological mechanism behind "dreams being out of reach."
In the audience, many people nodded subconsciously or wore bitter expressions. This was the exact dilemma they felt deeply but could not articulate.
Then, the direction of Yun Mengxi's words shifted subtly along with her movements.
"But..." Her voice suddenly became very soft, as if afraid of startling something. "It is right there—right in the sky."
She raised her hand for the second time.
This time, it was different from before.
She was no longer sitting. She slowly stood up on the cold concrete slab.
The hem of her thick down jacket swayed with her movement. She even stood on her tiptoes. Her slender figure on the edge of the roof, set against the vast night sky, appeared both insignificant and filled with a strange tension.
She reached out her arm toward the starry sky—which was utterly fake to her, yet incredibly real to the audience—her fingertips stretching as far as they could go, as if she truly intended to touch the cold moon or pluck a distant star.
The eyes of the entire venue, and countless eyes in front of screens, were firmly seized by this action.
The wind fluttered her long hair and clothes. Her posture of tiptoeing and looking up held a focus and desire that felt almost ritualistic.
In that moment, the absurdity vanished, replaced by a pure, moving sense of "wanting."
A human being, standing at the apex of a man-made structure, sending a silent plea and probe into the depths of the universe.
Miraculously, a faint but clear thought actually flitted through many people's minds.
"Maybe... she really can do it?"
The thought was irrational, violating all common sense.
No matter how high the building, it was dust compared to the distance to the moon... No matter how long a human arm, it was a speck against the scale of the firmament.
But in those few seconds of her full extension, an ancient instinct was awakened—the dream carved into human genes from the first time we looked up at the stars.
To touch the untouchable light.
However, gravity remained, and distance was eternal.
A few seconds later, Yun Mengxi's arm finally lowered slowly. Her heels returned to the solid ground.
A massive wave of emotion, a mix of "as expected" and "indescribable disappointment," swept over the audience.
The unrealistic expectation of that moment transformed into a heavier emptiness.
Some laughed self-deprecatingly, shaking their heads, feeling foolish for believing even for a second, for doubting the unbreakable laws of reality because of a girl's posture.
Longing to fly, yet trapped by gravity—perhaps one of humanity's oldest, most profound tragic metaphors played out silently in this moment.
Amidst this spreading disappointment, the camera zoomed in, giving Yun Mengxi's face a close-up.
She lowered her head slightly, looking at her empty palm, and murmured in a voice almost inaudible:
"As expected... still can't do it..."
There wasn't much surprise in her voice, only a faint sigh of resignation.
But immediately after, when she lifted her face again to meet the lens and everyone's gaze—
She smiled.
It wasn't a forced smile, nor the professional smile of an idol, but a...
Clear, enlightened smile, even carrying a touch of relief and tenderness.
The curve of her lips was slight, but it was as if shattered starlight had fallen into her eyes.
This smile formed an intense contrast with her "failed star-plucking" action and the disappointed murmur just moments before.
People were stunned.
She failed, she admitted she couldn't do it, so why... was she smiling?
There was no frustration in that smile, no giving up. Instead, it looked like she had completed an important verification and arrived at a peaceful shore.
The hand she had just reached out seemed not intended to actually seize a star, but to measure that eternal chasm, and after measuring it, choosing to still look up.
She gazed at the boundless night sky, the smile on her face not yet fading before turning into a soft, long sigh of emotion—
"The starry sky tonight... is truly bright."
This sentence felt like an invisible watershed.
The Yun Mengxi who had analyzed confusion, empathized with pain, and reached for the stars—the "resonator"—quietly changed her aura.
Her tone remained gentle, but it gained a layer of ice-like transparency—a relaxation after completing a mission, and the subsequent sense of distance.
"Sometimes I think I really am a lucky person." She sat back down, hugging her knees, looking like a little girl listening to a bedtime story.
But her words no longer sought resonance. They were more like a straightforward statement, a... notification from above.
"I was protected very well since I was little. I always seemed to get what I wanted.
"Most importantly... I had my brother." When she mentioned "brother," her eyes softened for a moment before returning to clarity. "He blocked all the wind and rain I should have shouldered, allowing me to... always run in one direction, without looking back, without looking to the sides.
"I seem to... really have become that legendary person who 'can pursue their dreams wholeheartedly.'"
She tilted her head, seeming to examine herself as a "specimen."
"And then? I ran and ran, jumped and jumped, sang and sang... somehow, I really ended up standing in the position I once dreamed of.
"'Become an idol,' 'Light up other people's dreams'... sounds huge, doesn't it? But I seem to have actually done it."
There was no showing off in her tone, only the calm of a completed task, and perhaps an imperceptible trace of bewilderment. "So, what next? My life is still so long."
She no longer looked at the lens but gazed into the depths of the night sky, as if asking herself, and stating a fact that separated her from the majority of people in the audience and behind the screens:
"The dream... is complete.
"The road... seems to have been walked to the end.
"So, where should the person standing at the finish line go?"
An invisible "gap" quietly spread.
She was no longer the fellow traveler trudging through the mud with everyone else, looking up at the stars.
She had become the "one who arrived," describing the scenery on the other shore in a flat tone—scenery that was strange and distant to the majority still struggling in the river.
Her confusion was "where is the next mountain after reaching the peak," while many people's confusion was still "how not to be washed away by the torrent underfoot."
The string of empathy was subtly pulled taut at this moment, then gently released—she realized this distance and chose not to hide it anymore.
Then, Yun Mengxi took a deep breath, inhaling deeply as if to swallow the entire night breeze.
When she looked at the lens again, her eyes held the light of determination.
"So, I want to do something else. Something bigger, farther, more like... a dream."
She tapped her finger lightly on an inconspicuous device beside her.
The livestream screen switched abruptly!
It was a precisely designed, futuristic blueprint, and the title was boldly displayed—
[Cicada Molt] Single-Stage-To-Orbit Light Manned Verification Vehicle Launch Plan
Complex orbital calculation charts, rocket body cross-sections, thruster parameters, dense but neatly arranged data streams... like a silent, magnificent poem of technology.
Meanwhile, at the Official Command Center.
The main screen was split between footage of the pursuit of Arahato, city surveillance, and the glaring "Rocket Plan" that had suddenly popped up on Yun Mengxi's livestream interface.
The commander-in-chief of the pursuit operation had veins throbbing on his forehead after Arahato "provoked" them on the edge of the downtown area again and vanished.
But when he saw that plan, especially the small logo in the bottom right corner belonging to the "Murata Aerospace Research Institute," and the launch site clearly marked as "Pearl of Sapphire Rooftop Modified Platform"...
All the clues were suddenly strung together by a thread called "logic"!
The shock in the medical community caused by Yae Rin's abduction...
Arahato precisely "hitting spots" every time it appeared, forcing them to evacuate surrounding areas...
The abnormal orders for the city-wide lockdown and commercial suspension...
And now, Yun Mengxi's sudden "rooftop livestream" covering the entire city—
"It wasn't for a kidnapping... nor for a terrorist attack..." The commander's pupils constricted, his voice trembling slightly with shock and realization. "It was to clear the field!
"The locations where Arahato appeared were all predicted probability zones for falling debris after the rocket launch!
"It used this method to force us to evacuate the people in those areas in advance!"
The only one capable of such massive, precise, real-time dynamic calculations...
"Future City... It's Joachim!
"The one in that mecha is Joachim!" The adjutant cried out.
Almost the exact second they had their "epiphany," an encrypted communication channel cut in. It was an official contact from the "Future City Strategic Coordination Office," the tone "sincere."
"Regarding our former consultant Joachim's unauthorized modification and theft of the 'Arahato' prototype unit, and his dangerous 'City-wide Real-time Orbital Safety Calculation Test' conducted in your city, causing serious public disturbance, we deeply apologize.
"Relevant technical parameters and insurance compensation agreements have been sent, hoping to make up for your losses, and... ensure the 'Chasing Dreams' plan proceeds without interference."
The "technical parameters" attached to the message were invaluable, and the "insurance compensation" figure was enough to shut up any audit department.
The intent was naked and "polite": We're paying the bill, you play along with the act.
The muscles on the commander's face twitched a few times before he squeezed a phrase through his teeth: "...These lunatics."
But in the next moment, he shouted into the public communication channel with a volume loud enough to be "coincidentally" monitored by Arahato, bursting with rage:
"Joachim! You have disrupted public order, used violent enforcement, abused lynching, and manipulated public opinion! You have been formally listed as an extremely dangerous target! Cease all actions immediately and surrender!"
In the distance, amidst the buildings, the "fleeing" Arahato suddenly paused. Beneath the armor, Kallen was confused for a split second, then immediately recalled Joachim's instructions.
The next moment, she quite skillfully held up two fingers toward the relentless official forces.
"Heh heh... Want to catch me, Arahato Zero? You're twenty thousand years too early!"
...
Yun Mengxi knew nothing of these tacit deals and performances—or rather, she didn't need to know.
She simply pointed at the charts on the screen, which looked like alien script to ordinary people, and spoke in the affectionate tone of telling a story.
"Look, this is the 'big thing' we're going to do together next.
"Tonight in Sapphire City, a tiny rocket will take off from the 'Pearl of Sapphire.'
"It's very small, only big enough for one person, but the place it's going is the stars."
She avoided all technical jargon, simplifying the complex aerospace plan into a fairytale-like promise.
"The official lockdown, the business suspension, it was all actually for this.
"To make sure this road is clean and safe." She blinked, revealing a mischievous expression that said we're all in on the secret, successfully packaging the official mandatory measures as necessary preparations for participating in a great plan.
"And my livestream is an invitation for everyone to witness together—how we humans reach out our hand to touch the stars again."
Individual dreams quietly sublimated into a dream belonging to "humanity."
And her previous action of reaching for the stars was given a completely new interpretation. That unattainable desire seemed to have found a vessel to carry it—
The rocket.
"My dream seems to be complete, but 'our' dream is still very long and very far away." Yun Mengxi's voice was full of a guiding yearning. "But..."
Her tone suddenly changed again, breaking away from the grand narrative, carrying the aura of a young girl—charming and willful.
"But having walked for so long, I'm tired too~
"After fulfilling my dream, I suddenly... suddenly don't want to be that 'role model' anymore." She scrunched up her nose, like a child who finally finished an exam and wanted to tear up her textbooks. "I want to run away too. Just for today, just for now, just for myself... I want to have fun, wildly!"
She stood up and walked to the very edge of the roof. The strong wind made her long hair and thin gown dance wildly.
The camera zoomed out, showing her silhouette standing at the top of the world, slender yet resolute.
"So, let's play a game!" She turned around, back to the abyss, facing the lens, her smile so sweet it made hearts tremble.
"I'm going to escape from the 'Pearl of Sapphire' and disappear into this city.
"And everyone—please leave here. Go outside, go to the streets, go anywhere you want to go!"
She spread her arms, as if embracing the entire night—
"If anyone can find me tonight..."
She paused, her smile widening, carrying an enchanting magic:
"I will grant them one wish. Any... dream is fine."
"Live for yourself"—this thought, like a spark, splashed into millions of dry hearts long suppressed by life's programming, the gaze of others, and societal expectations.
And Yun Mengxi, with her "willful escape" after "retiring with merit," personally lit the fuse.
"Today is a stolen day." Her voice pierced through the wind, clear and full of magic. "It doesn't belong to work, it doesn't belong to responsibility, it doesn't belong to anyone else. It belongs only... to yourself."
Finally, she made a move that stopped hearts.
She raised her hand and slowly unbuttoned that thick down jacket, letting the fierce wind carry it away like a massive, holy white feather, fluttering down into the abyss below.
She was left wearing only that gorgeous gown sparkling with starlight in the night, so thin it looked like the wind would tear it apart the next second.
She stood on the edge, her heels almost suspended in the air. Facing the lens, and facing the city, she bloomed with an incomparably brilliant, incomparably free smile:
"Everyone—"
"Tonight, I'm running away!"
The voice fell.
She fell backward.
Spreading her arms like a bird returning to its nest, or a kite breaking its string.
Without any hesitation, she plummeted straight down into the brightly lit yet bottomless urban night sky behind her.
Her figure was instantly swallowed by the building's edge, disappearing completely from the livestream.
BOOM—!!!
Emotions were utterly detonated at this moment!
Not panic, not fright, but a frenzy mixed with extreme shock, resonance, envy, and impulse!
She really "ran away"!
In the most resolute, most romantic, most reckless way!
"Live for yourself once!"
This thought, suppressed for far too long, crashed through the dam of reason like a volcanic eruption under the visual impact of Yun Mengxi's leap.
Inside the venue, no one knew who shouted first: "Find her! Get a wish granted!"
The crowd surged with a roar, rushing toward the exits with a venting excitement and the thrill of participating in history.
Yun Mengxi's words echoed in their minds—
"Leave here."
"Go anywhere you want to go!"
"Just for yourself"!!
Across the city, people in front of screens—whether young students, exhausted office workers, or housewives burdened with chores—felt the tight string in their hearts snap with a "snap" at this moment.
A rebellious, sweet sense of freedom seized them.
Let's go! Leave the room!
Go to the streets! Join this city-wide "hide-and-seek"!
Go find that runaway star!
Or...
Simply, just for myself...
Waste this one night!