In the days following the message, Yang Ying spent no time idle. He was busy acclimating himself to the environment of the State.

The Empire’s technology was undeniably advanced, surpassing any civilization he had encountered. If nothing else, interstellar gates—a method of transit unheard of by any race in the Orion Arm—were something only the Divine Race under his command could rival.

Technology afforded the Imperial citizens lives of extreme convenience; in every aspect, from attire and sustenance to housing and transit, an atmosphere of deep comfort permeated everything.

When stepping out, one only needed a personal light-computer to traverse the world. With a simple command, the device could resolve any trivial matter for its master: payments, reservations, communication, data retrieval, learning, and so forth. Furthermore, the light-computer could instantly transport its owner into the virtual world from any location within the Empire's boundaries.

Speaking of the Empire’s virtual world, it was unparalleled in the galaxy. It had existed for tens of thousands of years, undergoing countless upgrades across successive eras, making it increasingly mature and, by today, utterly perfected.

Yang Ying conducted some research and found the concept of the virtual world to be incredibly broad. Just as Earth distinguished between the Internet and Local Area Networks, the Empire's virtual domain was divided into the public virtual world spanning the entire Empire and countless localized virtual worlds. Beyond this categorization, the virtual worlds could also be divided into two types: the Fantasy Realm and the Simulation Realm.

The so-called Fantasy Realm was constructed entirely from fabricated rules. Anything could be invented, provided it was internally consistent and non-contradictory. Thus, creating a realm of magic, a realm of cultivation, a Celestial Realm, or a Divine Realm was not an issue.

The Simulation Realm, conversely, was a virtual space built upon the foundation of the real world. Its core rules mirrored reality so closely that it was practically indistinguishable from the actual world.

The Empire’s technological capability in this regard could be best illustrated by a single example: in the Simulation Realm, scientific experiments could be conducted with one hundred percent reliability. Whether observing the microscopic scale of atoms or the macroscopic scale of the cosmos, both could be rendered perfectly there.

Consequently, the results of experiments conducted in the Simulation Realm could be directly applied in the real world, their validity recognized by the Imperial scientific community with the same persuasive power as real-world experiments—a standard established over countless years of testing, with any dissenters having been convinced long ago.

The existence of the Simulation Realm dramatically reduced the cost associated with scientific exploration for the Grassland Nation. Furthermore, it signified that the Imperial scientific community’s quest to understand the laws of the universe had reached an unprecedented pinnacle.

The public virtual worlds visited on previous occasions were, in fact, not Simulation Realms, but rather Fantasy Realms with a very low degree of fantasy, appearing similar to the real world but governed by slightly different rules.

In these spaces, one could breathe, savor delicacies, listen to music, watch people, observe objects, and view cinema. One could even receive massages, including physical contact; all five senses—sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch—received the most realistic feedback. Simultaneously, these spaces allowed paper airplanes to execute spatial jumps, enabled the Examination Academy to generate infinite instances, and permitted a single universal door to connect to myriad different buildings.

After all, for the Imperial citizens, the purpose of entering the virtual world was convenience, not absolute reality. If it were identical to the real world, they would simply remain in reality.

The current public virtual world had also undergone eons of refinement to find the optimal balance between reality and fantasy. Because of its vast influence and deep integration into society, when people in the Empire spoke of the virtual world, 99% of the time they referred to this singular public domain.

During his waiting period, Yang Ying took the opportunity to study using educational software on subjects that piqued his interest. As the saying went, accumulating skills never burdens one; the more he understood the Empire, the more composed he would be when making decisions, and the safer his mission would become.

Time flew swiftly. Seven days later, Yang Ying was having lunch in a virtual restaurant. Although the dishes consumed there did not fill the stomach, they allowed one to enjoy the world's finest cuisine at an extremely low cost, as they were merely consuming virtual resources.

Just then, a paper airplane materialized above him, circled twice, and descended onto his table.

Yang Ying picked up the paper craft and was suddenly struck by a wave of positive anticipation, as if something good was about to happen, leaving him feeling light and pleased. He thought inwardly, "It’s done."

He unfolded the paper and saw that a golden border, winding like a vine, encircled the edges, sketching out elegant lines that conveyed a sense of extreme formality.

The contents of the letter were exactly as he had anticipated: “Cadet Igor, we are delighted to inform you that you have passed the initial qualification review. Please present this notification at the school’s virtual campus at 10:00 AM on May 30th, Imperial Standard Time, to participate in the entrance examination.”

Just as expected!

Yang Ying chuckled twice, tucked the letter away, and tapped a button on the corner of the table. A black hole suddenly appeared in the center of the table, sucking up the leftover food.

This letter made it clear that the Ice River Central Academy was running things with impressive speed; the May 30th mentioned in the letter was only four standard days from today.

Little time remained, but that suited Yang Ying perfectly.

Three days later, Yang Ying, holding the notification, arrived at the virtual campus of the Ice River Central Academy.

It seemed the start of the term was near, as the virtual campus was bustling with people—coming and going, chatting and laughing. There were also many pairs who were clearly couples, creating a harmonious and cheerful atmosphere.

Yang Ying smirked inwardly. It seemed even the Empire's higher learning institutions were no different from universities on Earth. But this was normal; after all, they shared the same origins—they were all human, weren't they?

The moment Yang Ying stepped through the gate, a wisp of azure smoke suddenly rose from the notification, transforming into an arrow that pointed in one direction within the campus.

This was clearly a guide. Yang Ying followed the arrow’s direction, passing several other individuals holding notifications just like his; each one also had an arrow pointing in the same way.

“Hey, big brother, are you here for the entrance exam too?”

A childish voice called from behind Yang Ying. Turning, he saw a small boy, only reaching his waist, staring intently at him. The little boy also held a notification in his hand.

Such a young cadet in a higher learning institution.

However, Yang Ying was not surprised by his appearance. Since knowledge was derived from memory input, bypassing the tedious process of study, age was irrelevant as long as one possessed sufficient brain capacity.

Generally, developing one’s spiritual power to the Second Level Lower Tier was enough to hold the volume of knowledge required by the Academy, and this little boy clearly possessed that level of mental strength.

Besides this boy, there were many other youthful faces visible nearby; such occurrences were not uncommon in the Empire.

Yang Ying held up his notification and said, “Am I here for the entrance exam? Can’t you tell by looking at this? Little brother, what do you need me for?” He knew instantly that the boy sought him out for something else, and mentioning the entrance exam was merely a pretense to start the conversation.

The little boy showed no embarrassment and giggled, “Big brother, you can’t fool me.” He extended a finger and pointed toward Yang Ying’s forehead, “The thing is this: your head ornament looks very familiar. Is that the high-grade light-computer recently released by the Ice River Institute of Technology—the one at the Third Level Upper Tier?”

Yang Ying felt a jolt. The Ice River Institute of Technology was located on Ice River Star and was one of the subordinate departments of the Ice River Central Academy, specializing in the research and production of light-computers.

The Ice River Institute of Technology was a well-known brand in the field of light-computers, especially on Ice River Star, holding over half the market share. It was likely that many people here would recognize his head ornament, certainly more than just this boy.

But there was no need to hide it. Yang Ying nodded, “Yes, it is that model.”

“Wow!” The little boy jumped up, eyes wide, “How does it feel to use? It must be amazing! Look!” He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a bracelet-style light-computer on his wrist, inlaid with an emerald. “The one I’m wearing is also made by the Ice River Institute, but it’s only Second Level Lower Tier. My dad gave it to me as a gift specially after the notification arrived. I asked him if I could have one exactly like the one you’re wearing on your head, but Dad refused, saying I still had a long way to go.”

“Heh heh,” Yang Ying tapped his head ornament with his index fingertip and smiled, “Then you must study hard, so you can wear one soon.”

“Yes, definitely.” The little boy nodded confidently. “I’ll be able to wear it. Oh, my name is Wuli, and I’m testing for the Light-Computer Academy. I plan to become a light-computer designer later. Ah, it’s getting late, I need to hurry to the exam. If I pass this time, Dad said he’ll give me a high-grade sports car!”

To be gifted a high-grade sports car at such a young age indicated that Wuli’s family was extremely wealthy. Furthermore, Wuli’s clothing and adornments suggested he was a True Human, as certain accessories in the Empire could only be worn by True Humans, knowledge Yang Ying had gleaned from Imperial Etiquette studies.

In addition, Wuli, seemingly not yet ten years old, already possessed Second Level spiritual power, which somewhat revealed his True Human status. Few Sub-Humans reached the Second Level at his age; True Humans certainly possessed innate advantages, requiring Sub-Humans to exert much more effort to achieve the same results.

However, whether Wuli was a True Human or a Sub-Human made no difference to Yang Ying.

Seeing the boy was sharp beyond his years, with his bright eyes darting about, radiating intelligence, Yang Ying found him quite likable. He laughed, “Then let’s go quickly. By the way, my name is Igor, and I’m testing for the Medical Academy, Pharmacy Branch.”

With that, the two walked together in the direction indicated by the arrow toward the examination hall.