(Next)
The compressed file contains some of her old project files and notes. In a folder named 'Private,' he discovered an unfamiliar wallet key file, with the note name 'TimeCapsule.' His heart inexplicably raced. He imported the key and opened a previously unseen encrypted wallet address. There was no cryptocurrency inside, only a few segments of encrypted text, quietly resting in the transaction memo.
The decryption process was exceptionally difficult; these texts used multiple layers of nested encryption. He drew upon his lifetime of learning, combined with his understanding of Su Xiao's habits, peeling away the layers like a detective. The first layer revealed a few scattered lines of poetry:
"The starry river wants to turn, thousands of sails dance, the dream still lingers on the old path."
"Code is like poetry, poetry hides secrets, and secrets... is the way home?"
The second layer required a specific hash value generated by a small tool they had developed together. Once unlocked, it was no longer a poem, but a more straightforward statement:
"Chuan, if you see this, it means you haven't completely lost the sensitivity of a tech person (laughs). I placed the early draft of the 'Star Map Protocol' on your bookshelf, in that (coding manual). I don’t know if you found it. I left not because I didn’t love you, but precisely because... I saw the future it might bring you, a future where I might become a stumbling block. Go find the 'coordinates' I left in the 'Star Map,' there."
Lin Chuan suddenly looked up, his gaze passing through the screen, as if he could see how Su Xiao silently organized these things a few months ago before leaving, how she quietly tucked away the clue that might change his trajectory into a place within his reach. It wasn't that she despised his inability to 'see the future'; it was that she saw a future that she could not participate in, one that might even drag him down, a future that was too dazzling, so she chose to exit early.
He rushed back to the rented apartment that he hardly lived in anymore, frantically searching the dusty bookshelf. That thick (coding manual) he thought was just a decoration. When he opened the pages, a square space had been hollowed out in the middle, quietly lying an old USB drive and a folded note. On the note were Su Xiao's neat handwriting: "Move forward, don't look back. Your starry sky is far wider than our love."
Insert the USB drive; inside is an extremely early conceptual design draft of the 'Star Map Protocol,' some cutting-edge paper abstracts about dynamic NFTs and emotional computing, and... a deeply hidden test node address deep within the protocol—that is the 'coordinates.'
He connected to that node according to the coordinates. What unfolded before him was no longer a star map, but a simple, code-built virtual space. In the center floated a continuously disassembling and reassembling cube, and beside it hovered a line of text that Su Xiao left for him, the last and also the first message:
"Project code name 'Heart Abyss.' Core logic: to transform the unspoken emotional fluctuations of humanity into a unique digital existence through verifiable on-chain behavioral data. It should not be monopolized by any company; it should belong to everyone who has ever been 'broken' yet still chooses to 'light up' their soul. I completed the concept and initial architecture, but the rest of the journey requires a stronger soul, one unbound by emotional constraints, to finish it. And you have always had this power. Forgive my weakness, and please... witness your bravery."
In that moment, all clues connected into a star river. Her departure was not the end, but rather, in the most silent and resolute way, laid the foundation for his new beginning. That 'Broken Heart' he bought while drunk was not a coincidence; it was the only key she had long set to lead to this place. She predicted that he would collapse, predicted that he would buy it, predicted that he would ultimately follow the clues to find this place.
Tears burst forth unexpectedly, not from sadness, but from a shock caught up in a great destiny and a heavy, inescapable responsibility. He sat in front of the computer, letting the tears drop onto the keyboard. Then, he raised his hand, forcefully wiping away the tears, his gaze became unwaveringly resolute.
He returned to the 'Star Map Protocol,' bringing with him the complete concept of 'Heart Abyss' along with the core code left by Su Xiao. He was no longer just a participant; he had become a leader, a builder shouldering the hopes and sacrifices of another person. He gathered like-minded developers from the community, working tirelessly to improve the protocol, design the token economic model, and ensure its decentralization and fairness.
On the day the project went live, it was named 'HeartFragment.' It allows users to safely authorize and upload various data reflecting emotional states (such as exercise amount, music playlists, social media activity patterns, etc.) onto the chain, minting NFTs that dynamically change in appearance and attributes. These 'fragments of hearts' are not just digital artworks; they are a new kind of social graph and identity marker built on privacy protection and data sovereignty. Holders can interact anonymously based on emotional resonance, form communities, and even co-create.
The concept is novel, the technology solid, and more importantly, it touches on the core issues of 'identity,' 'emotion,' and 'community' deep within the Web3 world. 'HeartFragment' quickly ignited the entire circle. The token price soared, and the community expanded exponentially. Lin Chuan, as one of the core founders and largest token holders, saw the value of his once drunkenly existing cryptocurrency wallet quietly surpass one million dollars, and it was still growing rapidly.
He stood at the center of the 'Star Map' he had constructed, a dazzling display, his virtual image floating among countless light points representing the 'fragments of hearts' of users. Each of those light points represented a genuine emotional fluctuation, a hidden thought, a soul that had broken yet struggled to illuminate itself again.
He opened his digital asset list; the first one, forever, was that dark-themed 'Broken Heart.' It was no longer the stiff pattern it once was; at this moment, it glowed with a warm, starry brilliance, the core point glowing as bright as a star, and the surrounding cracks were filled and connected with golden data streams, like a rebirth.
He extended his finger, gently touching the warm, pulsating 'heart' on the screen.
Beneath his fingertips was the cold screen, and also the searing, incompletely measurable, shattered and reborn essence of his soul!
