Chapter 1: Genesis

All that met his eyes was utter darkness.

In a heavy stupor, Liang Yuan awoke from chaos. He did not know where he was, nor could he understand why he had appeared here. There was no sign of life, only a boundless void, as if it existed beyond any dimension and did not belong to reality.

Liang Yuan could not tell how long he had been here.

He remembered he came from a place called Huaxia, a completely ordinary recent graduate. Only a moment before, he had been dozing off during the graduation ceremony; the next, he found himself in this abyss.

It is often said that in a place where one cannot see their own hand and there is no means of communication, madness soon follows. Yet for Liang Yuan, this was not the case.

He could remain lucid, his consciousness eternal. Only after a certain time had passed would he fall into a state of chaotic slumber.

This was already his four hundred and eighty-second awakening. In this space, there was no unit by which to measure time; the only thing Liang Yuan could do was silently keep count of his awakenings.

Tedious, monotonous.

Yet this four hundred and eighty-second awakening brought with it a peculiar sensation.

“When will this void finally become a space?”

No sooner had this thought arisen than the chaos around him was suddenly cleaved apart!

With its emergence, Liang Yuan gradually sensed he had a physical form.

“What?!”

Though darkness still prevailed, impenetrable as ever, something was profoundly different from before.

Could it be...

A notion flashed through Liang Yuan’s mind, and then he thought again:

“I...wish for there to be light.”

As this thought took shape, a burst of radiance flared not far away—a colossal ball of fire surged upward, and a sensation called ‘warmth’ and ‘heat’ enfolded Liang Yuan.

It was a feeling he had not known in a long time.

Yes! It was the sensation of the sun.

Gentle warmth, comforting.

So Liang Yuan mused.

But after summoning this ‘sun’, weakness swept over him once again, and Liang Yuan realized he was about to fall back into chaos.

“Could it be that the sun has drained my strength?”

That was Liang Yuan’s final thought before he drifted into slumber.

...

Who knows how much time passed before Liang Yuan opened his eyes again—his four hundred and eighty-third awakening.

This awakening was unlike the four hundred and eighty-two that had come before.

This time, when he opened his eyes, he saw light, the light emanating from the sun.

“Light, is it?”

The events of his previous awakening were vivid in his mind. Borrowing the sun’s illumination, Liang Yuan gazed about him; what he saw was profound and vast, like the expanse of space.

Yet compared with the cosmos, this space lacked most of its stars.

Could it be... that this was a universe—one where, save for the sun, nothing else existed?

The universe is the sum of all vast spaces, celestial bodies, and diffused matter. Liang Yuan had once studied the origins of the universe: no one truly knows how it began. The prevailing theory is that it started with a great explosion. All the matter and energy of the cosmos gathered together, condensed into a minuscule point, with immense heat and density, and under tremendous pressure, the big bang occurred.

That explosion sent matter scattering everywhere; space expanded, temperatures dropped, and eventually all the galaxies, stars, planets, and even life itself emerged as products of that explosion.

But...

Here, there was no explosion. The cause of this universe’s formation was nothing more than a single thought—a wish for space to exist.

After wandering for so long, Liang Yuan felt no emotion—be it explosion or thought, any ripple of feeling amid this endless tedium was an exquisite thing.

Now that there was a universe, there should not be a lack of planets, should there?

With that in mind, Liang Yuan extended a hand, drawing the scattered cosmic matter together, coalescing it bit by bit.

But what did a planet look like?

Liang Yuan did not know; he could only rely on his own understanding to attempt creation.

In his previous life, Liang Yuan had majored in Chinese Language and Literature at university. It had not been his first choice—he was placed there when his scores fell short. His knowledge of astronomy came from street literature and popular science on social media, and from a few basic science courses.

Liang Yuan kept gathering matter—its origins unknown, perhaps created by himself; perhaps impurities from the birth of the sun; or perhaps remnants drifting through the universe.

After an indeterminate stretch of time, a planet quietly formed beneath Liang Yuan’s feet.

The newborn planet was barren, devoid of features—simply a vast sphere, its core composed of scalding liquid, sheathed in a hard shell.

Perhaps obeying Liang Yuan’s will, or perhaps in accordance with cosmic law, the planet began to revolve and rotate around the sun.

Though it had started its orbit and spin, Liang Yuan knew a planet like this could not give rise to life.

“An atmosphere...”

With that thought, impurities from every corner of the cosmos began to separate into gases, presenting an array before Liang Yuan as though for him to choose.

This, however, left Liang Yuan at a loss.

Wasn’t the atmosphere a mixture of gases?

Recalling this bit of knowledge, Liang Yuan wasted no time in blending the gases, forming a thin atmospheric layer around the planet.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he nodded approvingly.

With some materials left over, Liang Yuan created another planet, this one a little closer to the sun than the first.

From a macro perspective, the two were not far apart, but for humans, the distance was considerable. After all, if they were too close, Liang Yuan sensed they might collide.

The second planet was much like the first, only smaller and without an atmosphere.

To distinguish between them, Liang Yuan dubbed the first Planet One, and the second, Planet Two. These were merely temporary designations; their true names would come with further development.

Having finished, Liang Yuan gazed quietly at Planet One.

He could feel that his creative powers for the day had reached their limit. If he wanted to continue, he would need to slowly recover some kind of energy.

He did not know exactly what this energy was, but it was vital—enough to bring a world into being.

With the formation of its atmosphere, Planet One began to operate. The temperature at its core was high, and its surface scorched by the heat.

With a thought, Liang Yuan appeared upon Planet One. As soon as he set foot upon it, a gentle warmth greeted him.

And there was wind.

Yes, wind.

Liang Yuan felt the wind.

It seemed that everything was coming together.

He was deeply satisfied with his achievements this time.

He was ready to sleep again.

But now, this would not be a passive slumber, but a chosen rest.

Liang Yuan needed to gather his strength to continue creating.

The planet was still incomplete. For life to be born, water was essential. Without water, how could there be life?