Li Yue was truly too dizzy and had no choice but to sit back down, releasing Li Shaohua’s hand in the process.
Seeing the red marks on her own wrist, Li Shaohua could only ignore them, afraid that Li Yue might change her mind.
“I want five thousand. Not a cent less.”
“What? Why don’t you just take my life?”
Li Shaohua jumped up in anger, nearly raising her hand to strike again.
Li Yue looked at her hand with a faint, mocking smile, raising an eyebrow slightly as if to say, “Go ahead, hit me. See who will donate a kidney for your precious daughter-in-law then.”
Li Shaohua’s hand froze mid-air for several seconds, but in the end, she didn’t dare to actually strike.
Moreover, she felt that the person before her had suddenly changed. Recalling how timid and submissive she used to be, Li Shaohua was convinced it had all been an act.
Money was clearly her goal.
But… giving her some money in exchange for a kidney wasn’t entirely out of the question. After donating the kidney, she’d surely be bedridden, and then the money could be taken back anyway.
Seeing Li Shaohua’s eyes darting around rapidly, Li Yue knew she was up to no good.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of her lips.
“Taking your life isn’t out of the question either.”
“How dare you! This is outrageous! Just wait until I tell Lu Xiao and see how he deals with you. Trash will always be trash—all you care about is money, money, money. So petty. You’re nothing compared to Xiao Jing. She’s from the countryside too, but look at her character and grace.”
Li Shaohua was so furious she spun around in place. Unable to hit Li Yue, she was left fuming, her chest aching with rage.
“Hmph, no money? Then don’t expect me to donate a kidney. Starve me to death, and I’ll have my dear sister-in-law to keep me company on the road to the underworld.”
From the original host’s memories, Li Yue had gleaned some useful information: the rules here were similar to those in her original world. Donating one’s body or organs required the individual’s own signature.
This was why, even after a successful match, the original host hadn’t had her kidney removed for over a month.
Her words undoubtedly struck a nerve with Li Shaohua.
“Stop talking nonsense! Our Xiao Jing will outlive you by miles.”
“Then let’s see who dies first.” Li Yue’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, her eyes gleaming with unmistakable amusement.
In the end, Li Shaohua decided she had to placate this little wretch first.
“I need to discuss this with your father. It’s too much money—I can’t decide alone.”
Li Yue raised an eyebrow slightly and gestured for her to go ahead, making it clear she didn’t mind.
Though furious, Li Shaohua knew how to read the situation. With a cold snort, she stormed out.
With a loud bang, the door was shut and locked from the outside.
“That wretched woman, so cunning,” Li Yue muttered under her breath.
She had thought about going out to find something to eat, but now she was locked in again.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl.
She was starving. Holding onto the writing desk by the bed, she struggled to her feet. From prolonged hunger, her legs felt weak and unsteady, trembling as she stood.
She wanted to search the small room to see if she could find any food.
But no matter how thoroughly she rummaged through the tiny bedroom, she couldn’t find a single scrap of food.
Just as she was about to start pounding on the door, a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over her.
Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself against the door and closed her eyes.
But instead of finding support, she stumbled forward into empty air. Li Yue’s eyes snapped open, and she realized she was in a completely different environment.
Taking in the familiar surroundings, she couldn’t hold back a gasp. “Have I… traveled back?”
This was the apartment she had bought through scrimping and saving while juggling over ten part-time jobs from 7 AM to 10 PM daily.
Right after she purchased it, housing prices plummeted.
As she needed a place to live, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and continue paying the mortgage.
But what was happening now? Feeling the gnawing hunger in her stomach, she didn’t have time to overthink and rushed straight to the snack cabinet.
She grabbed a pork floss bun and devoured it ravenously. Only after eating three in a row did she feel a slight fullness in her hollow stomach.
After eating and drinking a carton of milk, she reflected that although she had grown up in an orphanage, she had never experienced starvation. The prolonged hunger was truly unbearable.
Rubbing her slightly bloated belly, she pushed aside her melancholy and began investigating what was going on.
First, she had noticed something amiss earlier—her apartment was on the sixteenth floor.
Though she had died in the early hours, the area outside was a bustling downtown with roads, so how could it be pitch black?
Yes, the world outside her window was completely dark, without a single glimmer of light.
“Could this be… a space?” she muttered uncertainly.
But… weren’t spaces in short dramas usually Super Farm Spirit Spring Spaces?
To test her theory, she went to the entryway and tapped the electronic lock. The small screen displayed utter darkness outside.
She tried opening the door.
Expecting it to be locked, she was surprised when it swung open effortlessly. However, instead of the familiar elevator lobby—since hers was a single-unit-per-floor layout where she had placed a shoe cabinet and various daily items—there was now a street outside. Since when did she live on the first floor?
Shock and bewilderment washed over her face, her expression a vivid tapestry of emotions.
Stepping out, she saw the familiar street, the familiar shops, the familiar Golden Bull Statue Fountain Plaza—wasn’t this the very street beneath her building?
Had the world gone mad? Had the street moved to her doorstep? The problem was, her residential complex was in the middle of Golden Bull Street, so why was the pharmacy from the eastern end now right in front of her home?
However, Li Yue soon noticed something different: the street was lifeless, devoid of sound and color, entirely monochrome, as if she had stepped into a black-and-white photograph.
Undaunted, she approached the pharmacy just a step away. As she tried to push the door open, she saw red text scrolling across it like an electronic screen.
“Unlock condition: three million Space Points. One RMB equals three hundred Space Points,” she read aloud instinctively.
“Wow, this is pay-to-play. Geez, is this a game?”
Muttering to herself, she hurried to the next clothing store and found it required five million Space Points.
When she dashed across the plaza to the seven-star hotel, she discovered it demanded one hundred million Space Points to unlock.
Golden Bull Street also had a hospital, a kindergarten, and various shops—it was the most bustling street in S City, home to several of the largest malls, two massive warehouse supermarkets, and countless smaller supermarkets, with multiple in every residential area.
After exploring the area, Li Yue finally understood: every store required an equivalent amount of money to unlock. Of course, by modern standards, it would be a loss, but considering she had time-traveled to the 1980s, it made perfect sense.
By the time she returned home, several hours had already passed. Not knowing what was happening outside, she tried silently reciting the command to exit.
In the very next second, she reappeared at the doorway of the small bedroom where she had been standing earlier.
What she didn’t notice was that the moment she vanished from home, the TV flickered with static a few times, the screen lit up, and densely packed text began scrolling across it.
Li Yue couldn’t see any of this now.
At the moment, Li Yue was sitting on the small bed, somewhat bewildered as she looked outside.
She had wandered around Taurus Street for at least two or three hours, so why was it still bright outside?
Her chest thumped heavily, and an answer was on the verge of surfacing in her mind.
Li Shaohua’s earlier arrogance, she guessed, was because it was around dusk, just after work hours.
She had also noticed earlier that the sun outside was only slightly tilted to the west. Based on the time, it was likely around four o’clock.
But now, clearly several hours had passed, and she was even getting hungry from all the running around.
Yet it was still daytime outside, which meant the flow of time inside the space was different from the outside.
Just as she was about to try again, a commotion came from outside. Li Yue quickly stood up and looked out.
Downstairs, she saw Lu Qing pushing her ladies’ bicycle, dressed stylishly as she entered the courtyard.
“Mom—Mom—are you off work?”
She called out as soon as she entered.
Hearing the noise, Li Shaohua also walked out of the house.
“How did it go? Do you think there’s a chance?”
The two spoke softly but not too quietly, and Li Yue could hear them clearly.
As she propped up her bicycle, Lu Qing said shyly,
“I think Gu Huaichuan might be interested in me too.”