Chapter 231: Acquaintance

After hearing what Zhang Wenda said, the blue rabbit didn't answer directly. It just silently gave the slightly worn office chair a gentle push back, vacating the workstation with its flickering, cold-lit screen.

"You've done this before. You should know what to do."

"Code? Just keep on coding? How long am I supposed to do this?" A wave of absurdity washed over Zhang Wenda. He had imagined many bizarre scenarios he might encounter on his quest to find himself, but he never expected it would involve returning to his old profession.

The blue rabbit remained silent, like a pre-programmed routine. It simply stood up, vacating the scuffed chair it was on as well.

Zhang Wenda couldn't wrap his head around it. He knew he'd face obstacles on his search for his so-called "true self," but... coding? 'What's so difficult about that?'

Filled with doubt, Zhang Wenda tentatively sat down in the chair, which was still warm.

He looked at the faintly glowing screen. Displayed on it was a snippet of Python code for cleaning and analyzing routine data.

try:

if self.file_path.endswith('.csv'):

self.df = pd.read_csv(self.file_path)

elif self.file_path.endswith('.xlsx'):

self.df = pd.read_excel(self.file_path)

Even the slightly haphazard comments in the code were his own, written with his own hands years ago.

Zhang Wenda glanced up at the blue rabbit beside him, then took a deep breath. He composed himself, settled firmly in the chair, and placed his furry rabbit paws on the cold keyboard.

else:

raise ValueError("Unsupported file format")

logger.info...

He typed out the code, line by line. As he worked, the familiar yet strange clacking of the keys made his mind wander. He felt as if he were back in that merciless environment ruled by KPIs and deadlines.

He had nearly finished the simple Python script and was about to instinctively run a debug when he suddenly heard the sound of urgent, messy footsteps growing closer.

Zhang Wenda stood up and turned to look, only to see Wang Xiaohua, Shuisheng, and the others sprinting toward him, their faces etched with anxiety and panic.

"Just a second, I'm a little busy here," Zhang Wenda said, thinking they had come to rush him.

"Wenda! We can't get out!" Wang Xiaohua's voice was tight with panic. "The door we came in through—it's gone! We're completely trapped in here!"

"What!?" Zhang Wenda started to speak, but a thought suddenly struck him. He immediately looked at the blue rabbit, then remembered his unique ability to see it without needing the potion.

"If I'm not mistaken," Zhang Wenda said, enunciating each word, "we're inside someone else's thought stream right now. It's only within someone else's fully controlled thought stream that I can see *them* directly without the aid of the potion!"

"If that's true, then this whole mission is a trap! We're surrounded!"

Now, when Zhang Wenda looked up again at the distant, seemingly endless, repetitive, and oppressive plain of cubicles, it felt completely different. It was as if countless eyes were spying on them from the darkness.

Even the "prefabricated people," who had seemed like mere background decorations before, now looked utterly bizarre in their eyes.

Zhang Wenda couldn't imagine what kind of person would want to create such a suffocating world that imprisoned people in endless labor.

"Have you contacted the Bureau?" Zhang Wenda asked quickly, his voice tinged with urgency.

Shuisheng shook his head. "Comms are completely cut off. But I arranged things with the Bureau beforehand. We were to maintain an open channel at all times. Any unscheduled disconnection defaults to an emergency."

"So the Bureau should already know we're in trouble. They'll send reinforcements to get us before long."

Zhang Wenda felt a little relieved to hear that. The situation wasn't completely hopeless.

At that moment, everyone was looking around warily, their fingers tight on their triggers.

"Are you sure? Better not be wrong. You're not always the most reliable guy, you know," Song Jianguo muttered, nervously scanning the surroundings, which showed no obvious change.

"Then you explain it. What the hell is that?" Zhang Wenda retorted, pointing at the out-of-place blue rabbit.

Just as Zhang Wenda was trying to switch between thought streams to find an escape route, every computer screen in sight, as if controlled by a single invisible hand, flickered and went blue.

Zhang Wenda cautiously approached one of the screens. He saw that after the blue screen faded, it was replaced by a black, DOS-like interface. On it, a line of white text appeared, slowly typed out one character at a time, as if it had a life of its own.

"Don't you think there's something wrong with our world? What I mean is, our process is fine, but is it possible that our lives right now are wrong, that they're backward?"

"Think about it. No matter who you are—king or commoner, beautiful or ugly—everyone ultimately dies accompanied by endless pain."

"I'm not satisfied with this process. I think it's wrong. We could have woken up racked with pain and the diseases of old age, only to feel our decaying bodies gradually grow stronger, gradually grow younger."

"Our eyes and legs would get better day by day. And as our bodies gradually healed, we would welcome our family members as they slowly came into our lives."

"In the end, we would gently close our eyes in our mother's arms, surrounded by our families, amidst laughter and joy."

"I believe that is the perfect life we humans should enjoy. Think about it. Isn't that much better than the current process?"

'What is all this?' As Zhang Wenda's mind reeled from the bizarre words, it happened.

He saw the computer in front of him, the one displaying the text, begin to "climb" up from the desk as if it were alive, moving with a slow, eerie stiffness.

The white desk flowed like a liquid, twisting and deforming until it finally reshaped itself into a crisp but strange white suit beneath the computer tower.

Then, the dark screen instantly lit up, displaying a huge cartoon smiley face.

The smile was stretched into an exaggeratedly wide curve, radiating an unsettling enthusiasm.

A processed, androgynous, electronically synthesized voice emerged from the computer's built-in speakers:

"Hello there, little one. We meet again. Long time no see… you've really changed."

The voice was so familiar to Zhang Wenda. It was Qianxi.