The crowd of onlookers turned their attention to Su Mian the moment they heard the suggestion.
They had assumed she would insist on some form of monetary compensation. They never expected her to simply answer, “Alright, thank you then.”
Her priority was getting food to fill her children’s empty stomachs. After all, she had been the one in the wrong first; if the police were called, they would mostly focus on mediation, and she might end up walking away with nothing at all. A few steamed buns and rolls were enough to resolve their immediate crisis, which mattered more than anything else right now.
The middle-aged woman was inwardly reluctant, but she had been the one to resort to violence while the other side hadn’t fought back. On top of that, Su Mian’s hair was a disheveled mess and her body was covered in visible cuts and bruises—she looked like she had taken a severe beating. If the police really got involved, the woman knew she would be the one held accountable.
So, she honored her word, handing over all seven freshly steamed meat buns and plain rolls from her kitchen to Su Mian.
Su Mian carefully cradled the newspaper-wrapped bundle in her arms, thanked the middle-aged woman, and pulled her two children along as she walked away.
Once clear of the crowd, Su Mian quickly ushered the two children into a quiet alleyway. Pulling out two buns from her arms, she handed one to each of them.
“Eat up,” Su Mian said with a gentle smile.
She refrained from calling them by name because she simply couldn’t bring herself to say the words. The two children were fraternal twins who hadn’t been given proper names yet, only nicknames. The little boy, the older twin, was called Gouzi—Doggy. The little girl, the younger twin, was called Zhaodi—Welcoming a Brother.
What kind of person gives their children names like that?
What troubled her even more was the realization that, according to her memories, she was the one who had casually given them those nicknames, claiming they would be easier to raise that way. Su Mian was convinced that no matter what, she could never bring herself to treat her own children like that. It made her feel as though the person living through those five missing years hadn’t been her at all.
Frightened, the little girl leaned closer to her brother and hesitated to take the bun. The little boy, less fearful of Su Mian, accepted both buns and handed one over to his sister. Seeing that it came from her brother, the little girl finally took it and began to eat.
Watching the two children eagerly wolf down their food, Su Mian pulled out a plain roll for herself and took a bite. As she chewed, she tried to piece together the lost memories of the past five years—a stretch of time she had no actual recollection of living through.
Her personal memory stopped at the age of twenty. Whatever had transpired over the subsequent five years felt entirely alien, as if executed by someone else entirely. Her thoughts were jumbled, yet an insistent voice kept echoing in her mind: Once you get home and open that wooden box, everything will make sense.
At that thought, she chewed faster.
Noticing her haste, the two children mirrored her, taking larger bites. Afraid they might choke, Su Mian quickly cautioned, “Eat slowly, there’s no rush.”
The twins exchanged a brief glance and obediently slowed their pace. Still, they kept casting cautious glances toward Su Mian every few seconds, as though she were some kind of dangerous monster.
Su Mian didn’t try to initiate further conversation. She was at a total loss as to how to face her own children. In her memory of those missing years, she had been cruel to them, abusing and verbally lashing out at them constantly.
She had been especially hateful toward her daughter. It wasn’t out of preference for boys over girls, but because the girl had stopped speaking entirely at two years old. Su Mian had viewed her daughter as nothing more than a burden and constantly looked for ways to abandon her. If she hadn’t lacked a safe opportunity, the girl would have been discarded long ago.
This was precisely why Su Mian suspected something bizarre like possession had happened to her. She knew herself to be a kind-hearted person at core; there was no way she could have abused her own children.
Vaguely, she recalled a mysterious wooden box hidden at home one she had carried with her wherever she went over the past five years. Her intuition told her that the answers she sought were inside.
“Mom, are we going home now?” the little boy asked, snapping Su Mian out of her thoughts.
Coming back to her senses, Su Mian stood up and said, “Let’s go. Home.”
The three of them walked back in silence. The children were too afraid to speak, while Su Mian was focused on getting home, unraveling the truth of what had happened, and figuring out her next steps.
Before long, they arrived at a slum neighborhood. The residents here were almost all living in dire poverty like Su Mian, and the surroundings were wretched—filthy, messy, and dilapidated beyond description.
Su Mian led the children deep into the winding alleys, stopping before a battered wooden shack. The front door wasn’t even locked; it swung open with a light push. There was nothing of value inside worth stealing anyway—in fact, out of desperation for cash, Su Mian had long since traded the door’s padlock for basic supplies.
As the door opened, a foul wave of musty air rushed out to meet them.
Rather than going straight for the wooden box she had been desperate to find, Su Mian immediately grabbed a filthy rag and fetched water to start cleaning. The only saving grace was that they lived in the capital city of Xiangcheng, which had fully running water, saving her from having to fetch it from outside.
As she wiped down the surfaces, she called out to the children, “If you’re still hungry, eat the remaining buns on the table. I’m going to clean up the house.”
The twins said nothing. Instead, they walked over to a corner of the room where a reed mat was laid out on the floor and curled up together against the wall.
Su Mian froze when she saw what they were doing, her face draining of color. Her memories were still scrambled, and she had forgotten that the children had always been made to sleep on the floor in that tight corner.
What a monster I’ve been!
Her nose prickled with tears, and a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her, leaving her feeling utterly drained and helpless. She was certain now that none of this had been her doing, but what had actually happened?
Driven back to her original purpose, she lost all heart for cleaning. She went straight to the corner of the wardrobe and dug out the wooden box from beneath a pile of messy, dirty clothes.
The box looked filthy, but opening it was no simple task. Fortunately, the method to unlock it was embedded in her memory. She turned the small numbered dial at the bottom of the box, and with a soft click, it sprang open.
Lying inside was a letter. Beneath it rested a book.
Su Mian’s hands trembled uncontrollably. Breathing through her anxiety, she unsealed the letter to find the truth. The contents were brief and direct, summarizing the past five years of her life in just a few hundred words:
Dear Su Mian,
If you are reading this, I have already departed from this world.
I am an agent responsible for maintaining world order, designated as Unit 996.
First, I owe you a sincere apology for occupying your body for five long years. In order to maintain the balance of this world and prevent its collapse, I had no choice but to use your body to help the main hero and heroine complete their story arc. I hope you can understand.
Now that the world’s order has been restored and it can operate independently, we will no longer interfere in its affairs. You may reclaim full control over your life.
As compensation, I have gifted you a pocket dimension within your body. You already know how to access and use it.
Lastly, I have left the memories of these five years inside your mind. To help you sort through them as quickly as possible, I have also left you the original novel of this world. Please note, if anyone other than you touches this book, they will instantly vanish into thin air.
Without taking time to ponder whether any of this was real, Su Mian immediately reached into the box and pulled out the original novel.