“Please, I beg you! We mean no harm. Just let us in!”
A woman appeared in Song Yue’s line of sight, carrying her son on her back. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes bloodshot, and her face and hands were smeared with filth. She looked as if she had struggled desperately to find this place.
The chef, however, wouldn’t budge. “No. Even with a child, you have to explain yourself. We won’t have a murderer living beside us.”
The woman shook her head frantically. “No, I swear I’m not! This blood… I must have gotten it from someone else. I’m just a small woman. How could I possibly have the strength or the nerve to kill anyone?”
An older woman nearby stepped forward to verify her claim. She squeezed the stranger’s thin wrist and arm, then gestured toward the chef. “She’s all skin and bones. No strength in her at all.”
“Chef Chen, she’s just a poor woman with a child,” the older woman pleaded. “Think of how hard it must be for them. Let them in.”
Under the pressure of the crowd, the chef finally relented, but he asked one last question: “That… that woven bag you’re wearing. Did you make it?”
Song Yue had also noticed the two homemade buoyancy packs strapped to the woman’s chest and back.
“I made them. They’re the only reason I floated all the way here.” The woman nodded vigorously.
“Fine, come on in,” the chef said after a moment’s hesitation, choosing to believe her. “I’d suggest you stay on the seventh or eighth floor. We haven’t heard anything from the government about a rescue, and the water isn’t going down anytime soon. In fact, it’ll probably keep rising. You’ll be safer higher up.”
The woman thanked him profusely and hurried toward the stairs with her son on her back.
The chef turned to the others. “Alright everyone, let’s pack up and head upstairs.”
Song Yue waited until the bustle outside had died down before fully opening her door. She walked to the spot where the woman had stood, bent down, and picked up the two discarded buoyancy packs. She held them, examining them closely.
“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with them?” Sister Mei asked, following close behind.
Song Yue narrowed her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just curious how she made these.”
In her past life, she had tried making them herself, but the stitching required such a high level of skill that she’d never managed to complete a single one.
An average person would struggle to sew such tight, uniform stitches even with ample time. For the woman to have made these buoyancy packs—and managed to keep them mostly airtight under such extreme pressure—was a testament to her remarkable skill.
Song Yue mentally reviewed the woman’s face. She recognized her from the Hypermarket.
The woman had been with her husband and parents-in-law back then. When Song Yue had returned Nannan to the Hypermarket, she’d overheard the woman grumbling to her husband: “Look at that girl. So young, yet she knows how to do everything. And look at me. I’ve spent four years as a housewife, working like a dog for you, and now I’m useless at anything besides laundry and cooking.”
A flicker of insight crossed Song Yue’s eyes. She picked up the buoyancy packs.
Huang An and Sister Mei had already deflated the kayak and were carrying it up the stairs. Upon reaching the eighth floor, Song Yue used her card to enter her original room. The kayak was brought in with them, and she insisted on keeping it herself.
“Check if there are any other vacant rooms on this floor,” Song Yue said, walking toward the bed. She reached underneath and pulled out an axe. “If there aren’t, use this to break the door down.”
Song Yue had swiped the fire axe from a hardware store, using it to smash the lock before stashing it in her Space. Her earlier movements had been a ruse to keep her Space a secret.
Huang An didn’t recognize the axe as his own. He took it from her and led Sister Mei and the others to search for rooms.
Just then, the faint sound of a door closing echoed from nearby.
Song Yue raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She retreated into her room, shut the door, and locked it.
Finally, some quality time for herself.
She flopped onto the soft bed and vanished into her Space with a whoosh.
She’d already eaten a full meal of Shredded Pork with Garlic Sauce over rice and a large bowl of soup, so she wasn’t particularly hungry. But she couldn’t resist the craving.
If I can’t have a full meal, at least I can have a snack, she reasoned.
After browsing the shelves, she settled on a slice of tiramisu and an Oreo Cheese Milk Tea.
Outside, night had fallen. The Thousand Crane Lake residential area, usually ablaze with lights, was now plunged into darkness.
The torrential rain and flooding were terrifying, but Song Yue refused to let them ruin her brief moment of culinary bliss.
The hotel hadn’t lost power or water yet. Song Yue drew the curtains, flipped on the lights, and sank into the plush bean bag chair to savor her feast.
She loved the unique, subtle coffee aroma of tiramisu, which had a richer texture than plain cream cake. Paired with the rich Oreo Cheese Milk Tea, its slight sweetness perfectly complemented the cake’s density.
If only her stomach were larger, Song Yue would have devoured several more slices.
After leisurely finishing her dessert, a craving for fruit struck her.
What should I have?
She scanned her Space, her gaze landing on a crisp, juicy exploding melon.
She split it in half with a small knife from her toolbox, then scooped out a generous portion of red flesh. Juice dripped down the sides of the spoon, just the sight of it making her mouth water.
As she took a bite, the sweet, crisp flesh burst like a fruit-flavored firework in her mouth—refreshing and delicious.
So good!
Her eyes lit up with joy as she scooped out the fruit faster and faster. In no time, half the melon had vanished.
Song Yue let out a long burp and rubbed her full stomach. She had never felt more blissful.
After resting for a while, she tossed her wet clothes and the ones she was wearing into the washing machine.
The original owner had been wealthy, so she had naturally booked the best room available. This one featured a private kitchenette, a separate washing area, a private bathroom, and a moderately sized living room.
The washing machine was located in the washing area, paired with a dryer that could quickly dry the freshly cleaned clothes.
Recalling that her Space lacked electrical appliances, Song Yue considered her options and asked the system, “Will the Space offer any new functions besides increased volume after an upgrade?”
The system, which had been silent for a long time, replied, 【Like what?】
“Like a power supply system,” Song Yue blurted out.
【Yes, it will.】
“At what level will I get it?”
【Level 2.】
Song Yue shot upright, her eyes gleaming.
Her Space was currently Level 1. That meant if she completed this Instance, she could have electricity in her Space by the next one. She could use washing machines, hair dryers, televisions, and more!
【Yes, your guess is correct,】 the system confirmed.
Her heart raced with excitement. Rubbing her hands together, Song Yue asked, “Will future upgrades unlock even more functions?”
【Yes.】
“What else? Can you tell me?” Song Yue was eager to know what lay ahead.
But the system replied, 【You will discover these functions as you clear Instance and level up.】
Song Yue sighed. “…Fine.”
Song Yue shrugged and decided not to dwell on it.
The banging and shouting in the hallway had finally stopped. She figured Huang An, Sister Mei, and the others must have finally found their rooms.
After a long, hot bath, she found her laundry clean. She transferred the clothes to the dryer, set the timer, and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Song Yue was jolted awake by a knock at her door.
She rolled over, noticing the light in the bathroom was out. She pressed the button on her bedside lamp, but it didn’t light up either.
Getting out of bed, she dressed and went to pull back the curtains to let in some light.
As she looked out at the world, Song Yue’s heart skipped a beat.
Overnight, the floodwaters had risen to submerge the entire third floor of the hotel. The speed of the deluge was terrifying.
A heavy feeling settled in her chest. She strode to the door and answered the knock. “Who is it?”
“Song Yue, it’s me,” Huang An’s voice came from the hall. “The staff said the water’s rising too fast. They want everyone to meet and figure out a plan. Do you want to come?”
Song Yue hesitated for a moment. “I’ll be there.”
They wouldn’t be calling a sudden meeting like this without some hidden agenda.