Good heavens, it's raining money!

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Zhiwei’s gaze faltered slightly, her fingers gripping the podium tightening as she pressed down on the surface, utterly still.

What savior, what pollution value, what sole deity—does any of this even make sense?

Why hasn’t anyone cursed or scolded me? Why is everyone cheering and screaming?

Is this normal? Is this really normal?

If I’m just babbling nonsense, why isn’t anyone chasing me off? Why are they all taking this so seriously? Help! Is everyone actually believing this?!

Before Zhiwei could even react, quite a few people rose to their feet, clustering together and rushing toward her.

An elderly woman with graying temples, dressed in a white uniform that suggested a scientific or academic background, came running from the fourth or fifth row of the audience all the way to the front, gripping a cane for support.

Leaning on the podium that stood over a meter tall, she extended her hand toward Zhiwei.

Zhiwei raised her eyebrows. Huh? Is she coming to chase me off?

Suppressing a smile, she feigned worry and crouched slightly at the edge of the stage, locking eyes with the scholar. “You…”

Before she could finish, the woman grabbed Zhiwei’s arm with both hands. “Such integrity, such ambition, such idealism… this is a truly effective campaign platform!”

Her grip tightened, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

Effective? How is this effective? Is this some kind of joke? Zhiwei was dumbfounded.

The scholar finished speaking, then touched the back of her neck twice, pausing before looking at Zhiwei with deep admiration.

Zhiwei blinked. What’s with the scratching? Look at me like that?

While she was puzzled, a large crowd surged forward from behind.

Some were desperately reaching out to her from the floor, others were scrambling as if trying to climb up.

They cheered as if witnessing a miracle, as if hearing a legend, encircling her and rhythmically chanting her name.

“Zhiwei! Zhiwei!”

Zhiwei realized something was wrong.

This didn’t look like anyone was trying to drive her off the stage at all!

She hurried to stand and turned to see Hector leading security approaching.

Right, he was the escort!

Seeing him was like seeing a savior, so she rose and walked toward them.

Sure enough, Hector and the security surrounded her, pushing through the crowd and escorting her out.

Her mind was nearly blank, but the cheers rang loudly in her ears.

People reached to touch their own necks, and then something else happened; their gazes became even more fervent.

Their praise was filled with disbelief.

“Magnificent! This is the character of a savior!”

“It’s the first time I’ve ever seen such a thing…”

“High morals and noble spirit! I’ve found the best candidate this election!”

Zhiwei had no idea what they were so happy about!

Still dazed, she followed the protective circle formed by the guards, stepping outside.

But somehow, hands slipped through the gaps in the security and shoved pieces of paper into her palms.

Looking down, she pinched one between her fingers—it was a peculiar material, finely patterned, with numbers on it—is this cash?

She glanced sideways at Hector, whose expression was utterly calm.

…She suspected Hector was doing it on purpose. Deliberately leaving gaps for people to slip their hands through and stuff money in.

Holding the cash, she raised her hand. “Who’s stuffing money into my arms? Huh?!”

By holding her hand up, her arms were free, and the crowd cheerfully stuffed even more notes into her embrace.

“No need, no need! Really, no need! Who’s throwing money at my head?” Zhiwei tugged at her cloak, wanting to run.

But the crowd was too thick, and she couldn’t escape.

She had seriously underestimated the influence of running for deity.

The whole galaxy was broadcasting this live in real-time holography.

Today’s preliminary selection had already drawn a crowd of believers near the temple, and the path she was escorted along was packed with people.

They had just finished watching the broadcast, emotions at their peak, as waves of people surged forward.

“Zhiwei! Zhiwei!”

They said no more, only chanting her name.

Zhiwei had worked as a part-time idol before, so hearing her name called triggered a reflexive response.

Wherever they called, she would look, wave, nod, and smile in sequence.

Then she realized she had been trapped here for five minutes already.

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Zhiwei bit her back teeth and jabbed Hector hard in the waist.

Her voice squeezed out between her teeth: “You did this on purpose? You deliberately trapped me here?” She caught on.

Hector was poked and looked a little dazed. “I thought you wanted to interact more with your voters…”

Zhiwei twisted her mouth into a perfect, beautiful, flawless smile, her gaze fixed firmly on Hector.

Hector immediately began dispersing the crowd, intimidating them with his weapon. Within thirty seconds, the people around her had scattered.

They dispersed into corners of the street, watching her from a distance, their eyes still burning with passion.

Zhiwei finally let out a breath of relief.

Looking down, she realized she had unwittingly gathered the money shoved into her cloak.

She stared at the pile silently for a moment, narrowing her eyes.

Hector, trying to make amends, quickly asked, “Where are you staying now? I’ll escort you.”

Zhiwei smoothed her messy hair, gathered the crumpled cash, wrapped her robe tighter, and looked at Hector deeply.

Hector smiled, his amber eyes bright and dazzling.

He spoke patiently, telling Zhiwei not to worry: “Don’t be afraid to trouble me. My job is as an escort; I’m happy to serve you.”

“This is what you deserve. I haven’t heard such a great campaign platform in a very long time.”

Zhiwei: …Ah!!

She wanted to bark like a dog.

“Don’t you think this is absurd? I…” she trailed off.

Hector said bluntly: “Strange, but magnificent.”

Zhiwei was exhausted—how could she not be? She was on the verge of losing her mind.

She had been rambling and making things up, yet people took it seriously. Who was to blame? Not her—it was this world!

Seeing the weariness in her eyes, Hector suggested, “I’ll take you to a nearby hotel. You can eat something to regain strength and get some rest.”

Zhiwei nodded weakly.

She followed him. Initially, she walked behind Hector, but after a few steps, he skillfully moved to her left and right, guiding her.

Zhiwei asked, “What are you doing?”

“You should walk in front of me. I’m the escort; you’re the candidate.”

Zhiwei was speechless for a moment, looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Fine, come on, I’ll go first. I don’t know the way. I’ll lead. Where are we going?”

Hector stayed half a step behind but smoothly led her.

“You seem unaccustomed to being served.”

He smiled, sharp and charming, his tone light and lively, jaw clenched, eyes respectfully lifted to her.

“You need to get used to this. After all, you’ve started running for deity.”

Zhiwei opened her mouth to say something but forced it back down, saying nothing.

The ‘nearby’ hotel was indeed close—less than five minutes on foot, and at a turn, there it was: the hotel entrance.

Hector guided her inside to check in. Zhiwei stood at the door, turning back to gaze at the temple not far away.

She could clearly see the entire temple from here.

The temple was a skyscraper piercing the clouds, its steel-and-concrete frame standing upright. Its exterior was neatly arranged with circular and elongated windows, data stream screens wrapped around its walls.

The complex, rainbow-colored neon lights gave it a chaotic yet tangled aura, without diminishing the halo-like brilliance it radiated wherever human eyes could reach.

Zhiwei had to say, it was a very “temple-like” beauty.

When it came time to confirm the stay and pay, Zhiwei pulled money from her wrapped cloak.

But the hotel owner, always smiling, began shaking her head repeatedly.

Zhiwei cautiously asked, “You’re ‘that’ Zhiwei, right?”

Zhiwei replied, “Am I some untouchable? You’ve already said my name, so drop the ‘that’!”

“You’re running for the sole deity, so I won’t accept your money,” the owner muttered.

She said eagerly, “Please stay here as long as you like—it’s my gift to you.”

…Zhiwei was too tired to argue.

She said goodbye to Hector, inexplicably signed something for the owner, and entered her hotel room, startled by the small AI robot fluttering toward her like a bird.

But she was utterly exhausted.

So exhausted, she merely waved her hand and, with no curiosity about this strange galactic era, collapsed onto the bed and took out her phone to check.

Sure enough, no signal, no connection.

Of course—the signal was poor before, but now that she had traveled through time and space, her phone naturally wouldn’t work.

This meant no Alipay, no WeChat, no bank cards would function here.

She had worked hard to get into a top university, studied diligently to join a top internet company with grueling hours, and moonlighted as an underground idol.

Now, all her money and career were gone down the drain.

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Zhiwei fell asleep immediately—or rather, she let herself pass out.

When she woke five hours later, it was already night; she had fallen asleep in the afternoon.

Sitting on the bed, she stared blankly at the ceiling.

There was a screen above, displaying starry skies and drifting clouds, the colors so rich they resembled an oil painting contained within an electronic screen.

Zhiwei reached out, and the screen expanded into a full holographic display, orange-red clouds swirling around her fingertips.

Not bad. She sighed and smiled to herself.

Earlier on stage, she had been worrying about survival. Now that she had survived, what was there to complain about?

Only a strange worldview and a completely blank knowledge base.

Zhiwei understood her situation and thought: as long as I’m not dead, I’ll survive!

She hadn’t eaten, but recalling the owner saying the hotel had a restaurant, she grabbed a handful of various cash notes and headed out to eat.

At the door, she saw through the security system’s display that the hallway was packed with people.

…Could it be they were blocking her again?

The afternoon scene flashed vividly in her mind, and she didn’t want to go through that again.

She took a half step back, turned, and ran to the floor-to-ceiling window. After studying it for a moment, she deactivated the room’s protective shield, opened the window, and found a continuous terrace outside.

Without hesitation, Zhiwei climbed out onto the terrace and walked along to find a room she could enter.

At the building’s corner, she saw a door ajar and no one inside.

She peeked over the railing and climbed through, finally exiting the building.

When she reached the restaurant, there were few people inside.

She noticed a man sitting at the bar with his back to her, sporting golden hair and talking.

“…Yeah, I did watch the preliminaries, but one candidate’s platform was to become the sole deity.”

“Outrageous, truly outrageous!”

“It’s like I was happily sipping soup, and someone threw a piece of iron in it!”

Zhiwei quietly passed by him.

He looked up and locked eyes with her.

The air froze for a moment before he awkwardly said, “Hello, I’m Andre.”

Zhiwei nodded. “Hello, I’m the iron piece.”

Andre looked uncomfortable, glancing at Zhiwei as others nearby laughed.

While he was embarrassed, Zhiwei studied him.

His name suited him well—Andre.

He had golden hair and blue eyes as clear as glass beads.

Those transparent blue eyes resembled a deep, pure ocean, the same clear blue as Earth.

His features were delicate, with high brow bones that gave his eyes a deep-set look, adding a chill and sharpness to his appearance.

By his looks alone, he was a beauty from the icy plains, radiating cold and sharp edges without a hint of warmth or grease.

Yet he clearly felt defiant, arms crossed, adopting a distant posture.

His stance caught Zhiwei’s attention to his arms and chest.

He was tall and well-built, even sitting down his muscular lines were smooth and flowing.

But it wasn’t thin, lean muscle—it was full and plump, a kind of robust muscle.

Looking at Andre, even though he called her an iron piece, Zhiwei wasn’t angry.

Not because he was handsome, nor because of her temperament, but because his eyes were a profound, clear blue.

Earth was just as blue as his eyes.

Zhiwei couldn’t help but recall her normal life before crossing over earlier that morning.

However, she only felt a fleeting sentiment. Yes, Andre was handsome—golden hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, narrow waist, and ample chest—but what did that have to do with her?

She found a seat and was about to see what food was available when Andre followed and sat beside her.

“You can’t run for sole deity. This is really too much,” he said dryly.

Zhiwei raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Andre blinked, his long curled lashes making his blue eyes look even larger and rounder.

He frowned and said, “No one has ever proposed running for sole deity because it’s blasphemy, a great treason against the gods.”

Zhiwei glanced at him.

She was utterly speechless. “Are you okay? You all divvied up the divine essence of the fallen god. Who’s the real traitor here?”