The helicopter circled above. Below, the rescue team stared down in disbelief.
“Is this even real?” one member gasped. “An island in Laocheng?”
He had grown up in Laocheng. Though he hadn’t been back in years, he knew its geography by heart. Yet the sight below was undeniable.
He fought to calm his racing heart and waited for the captain’s orders.
The captain watched the island grow larger in their view, his expression grim.
Seven days ago, a live broadcast had stunned the nation. The footage showed a disheveled young man reading from a set of documents. With every truth he revealed, the audience watched in horror.
The news had reached The Capital instantly. As captain of the rescue team, he had been dispatched immediately.
But they had vastly underestimated the disaster in Laocheng.
For some reason, the air currents above the city had churned like a violent vortex, sealing Laocheng off from the outside world. It had taken the rescue team seven grueling days to find a brief lull in the storm and break through.
They had expected to find Laocheng in ruins.
Instead, as they flew in, they discovered an island below. It was lush with coconut palms and bamboo groves, dotted with farmland and small wooden cottages. The people living there seemed peaceful, showing none of the panic and despair one would expect after such a catastrophe.
For a moment, Chu Xinghe wondered if he had flown to the wrong city.
The helicopters began to land.
Seeing this, Song Yue shoved Chu Xinghe forward. “This Water City is yours now,” she declared. “Keep it for yourself or hand it over to the state—I don’t care. I’m done with it.”
Before Chu Xinghe could even object, Song Yue’s actions outpaced her words. She transferred ownership of the Water City to him before he could get another syllable out.
A floating panel, unlike anything he had ever seen, materialized before his eyes.
It took him a long time to process it all. He realized then that there were things in this world science simply couldn’t explain.
How else could he account for an island appearing out of nowhere? How could he analyze its internal logic? And how could he explain Song Yue’s own extraordinary nature?
Chu Xinghe looked at her, knowing she held countless secrets.
But he had no intention of digging deeper, nor would he report her to the rescue teams.
Some truths were essential—like the real cause of the disasters at Thousand Crane Lake and Laocheng. Those had to be reported.
But other truths mattered less. Like Song Yue and her island.
She had saved Laocheng and its people. That was all that needed to be known.
***
Day 28 of the Instance.
Song Yue lay on a single bed, relaxing with food and the television.
After Chu Xinghe handed over the Water City, the survivors had been relocated to a government-run Safety Relief Center. The entire nation was watching, so the authorities didn’t dare slacken. They provided the survivors with the best rooms and the most abundant food.
Thousand Crane Lake had also been reached by rescue teams.
But the damage there was too severe, and the disaster had struck too quickly. By the time the rescuers arrived, the scenic area was a wasteland of floodwaters, dead branches, and corpses.
Not a single survivor had been found.
The footage was too gruesome for long. The camera panned away after only a few swift, cursory shots.
Song Yue felt a pang of regret. She hadn’t seen Huang An, the hardware store owner, nor the woman with her daughter, or the chef.
Everyone has their own fate, she thought. I did all I could.
***
Day 29 of the Instance.
Zheng Yuexi came to the door, claiming she wanted to talk—to “clear the air” and mend their relationship.
Song Yue had already heard from Sister Mei what Zheng Yuexi had been saying behind her back. She sneered, then called out through the door with a single, flat refusal:
“No chance.”
Zheng Yuexi had fed off the original owner’s success at the academy, using her for everything, only to spread rumors about her.
Someone like that doesn’t even deserve to mention “feelings” to me.
***
Day 30 of the Instance.
[Congratulations, Host! Mandatory Quest 1 successfully completed.]
[Beginner Instance cleared. Calculating Lifespan Points…]
[Total Lifespan Points earned this Instance: 75]
[First-time Instance completion bonus: Newcomer’s Gift Pack granted.]
[The next Instance will open on August 1st at midnight. Please prepare in advance.]
[Exiting current Instance…]
Song Yue lay in bed, the world before her eyes fading to black.
When she opened them again, she was back in her familiar room.
She reached for the phone on her nightstand and pressed the unlock button.
July 1st, 00:01.
Just as the system had promised: no matter how long she spent in the Instance, only a single second passed in the real world.
She let out a long sigh of relief. This Beginner Instance had been far more difficult than she’d expected. If she hadn’t obtained the Cocktail item, she had no idea how she would have survived the final three weeks.
“099, are you sure this was a Beginner Instance ?” Song Yue stared at the ceiling, the more she thought about it, the more she felt cheated.
[Based on backend calculations, this system confirms it was novice difficulty.]
“Bullshit!” She shot up, counting off on her fingers. “Floods, torrential rain, the city collapsing—oh, and we had to dig up and hand over secrets. You call this a Beginner Instance ?”
[To the task-taker: this system only selects one core disaster for rating. Additionally, Instance trajectories are unpredictable, so minor errors in the rating may occur. This is normal.]
Song Yue: ?
Fine, she thought. I’ll take it.
At least I made it out alive, right?
Song Yue tossed and turned in the quiet of the night, her mind unable to settle as she replayed her experiences in the Instance.
099, she thought, is the Instance world real?
[Yes.]
What happens to the version of me left behind after I leave?
[To the Quest-taker: the original owner’s consciousness will naturally reclaim the body. No unmanaged state will occur.]
Will she know what I did this past month?
[Yes.]
Won’t that be strange for her?
[Please be assured, Quest-taker, this will not be an issue. This system has modified the original owner’s consciousness so she will interpret these actions as her own.]
Song Yue fell silent, a sudden, inexplicable melancholy washing over her.
She had fought so hard to survive, fought so hard to save others, only to be a mere passerby in another world.
But at the same time, a weight lifted from her shoulders.
It’s a good thing I’m just a guest, she thought. I complete the mission and leave. If I left ties behind, the burden of longing would only grow heavier.
She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “I want to see the Newbie’s Gift Pack.”
[Understood.]
Song Yue’s consciousness shifted.
She found herself standing in a white void, facing a gift box adorned with a pink ribbon.
Ugh, such a tacky taste, she mentally critiqued.
She reached out and touched the box. The ribbon untied itself, and a golden light erupted from within.
[You have received: Gromwell Potion x1, Simple Bandage x1, Simple □□ x1]
[Gromwell Potion]
Quality: Common
Effect: Provides basic hemostasis; treats minor wounds.
[Simple Bandage]
Quality: Common
Effect: Provides basic hemostasis.
[Simple □□]
Quality: Common
Durability: 10/10
Description: Range: 5 meters.
Two healing items and one weapon.
Not bad, Song Yue thought, satisfied. She accepted the items.
“How many quality tiers are there?” she asked.
[To the Quest-taker: There are four tiers, listed from lowest to highest: Common, Excellent, Rare, and Epic.]
“So the higher the Instance level, the better the item quality?”
[Correct.]
Now that she had a clear understanding, Song Yue left the white void.
The system suddenly asked, [Would you like to view your upgraded space?]
Song Yue’s eyes widened. Right, the space!
“View!”
[Your space has been upgraded to Level 2. Current dimensions: 20m x 20m x 20m.]
It upgraded!
It was much larger than before. Song Yue stood in the center of the space, her eyes gleaming as she took it all in.
The supplies that had once crammed the 125-cubic-meter area now occupied only a tiny, insignificant corner.
Perfect! Song Yue’s heart raced. With the expanded space, she could finally hoard supplies to her heart’s content.
[Additional notification for the task-taker: The Power Supply System has been activated. You have received 2 free outlets. Would you like to install them now?]
Right, the power supply system!
Song Yue paced the space with her hands behind her back, pondering the best placement for the outlets. As the space grew, she would eventually need to add furniture and appliances. She’d have to carefully plan where to put the TV and washing machine outlets…
As if sensing her dilemma, the system chimed in: [Outlets can be moved.]
“Is it free?” Song Yue asked.
[1 Point per move.]
Figures. Nothing in this world is ever truly free.
“But what are Points?” she asked. “I only have Lifespan Points.”
[Points can be exchanged for Lifespan Points at a 1:1 ratio. Because you are currently in debt, the Exchange and Mall features are disabled. Quest-taker, please work harder to repay your debt and unlock these functions.]
Good grief, so I won’t be able to access the Mall until I finish the next Instance.
Still, that was fine. She had the Newcomer’s Gift Pack and some handy items, so there was no need to panic.
Song Yue took one final lap around the space, decided on the outlet placements—washer and dryer here, TV there—and then exited.
Her mind gradually settled into a calm stillness.
That night, she slept dreamlessly.
The next morning, Song Yue found her parents sitting in the living room. They looked exhausted, their faces etched with anxiety.
The moment they saw her emerge from her room, they practically leaped to their feet, surrounding her instantly.
“Xiao Yue, you’re back,” Lin Xiaojuan said, her voice choking with emotion as she pulled her daughter into a hug.
Song Yue froze for a moment before slowly raising her arms to return her mother’s embrace. “I’m here, Mom.”
Song Tianyuan felt too awkward to hug his daughter himself, but he stood by their side, wiping away a stray tear. “Your mother was worried sick last night. We didn’t know how dangerous that… Instance thing could be. We tossed and turned all night, unable to get a wink of sleep.”
“You’re the one to blame!” Lin Xiaojuan suddenly let go and turned her mock frustration on Song Tianyuan. “I told you we should go check on our daughter in her room, but you said we’d disturb her while she was in that Instance. I tried to be patient, but the more I thought about it, the more worried I got.”
“Hey, I gave in in the middle of the night,” Song Tianyuan replied. “I told you she was sleeping soundly and would be fine. But you just got more anxious. One minute you were wondering if she’d fainted, the next you were trying to check if she was even breathing. Xiao Yue, you have no idea—your mother was practically losing her mind last night.”
Though he was teasing her mother, Song Yue could see the unshed tears in her father’s eyes.
Her nose stung, and her own eyes welled up. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry. Like I said, no matter how long I’m in the Instance, only a second passes in the real world. I actually came back just one second after midnight.”
“Is that true?” Lin Xiaojuan let out a long sigh of relief, clutching her chest. “Thank goodness. I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night. I didn’t realize you’d been back all along.”
Song Tianyuan also relaxed, though his expression remained troubled. “How long were you in there this time?”
“A month,” Song Yue replied.
“That’s a long time…” Song Tianyuan murmured, his brow furrowing again. “Were you—”
Now that her parents had finally begun to relax, Song Yue didn’t want to worry them again. She quickly changed the subject. “Mom, Dad, I’m starving. Let’s have breakfast.”
Nothing cut through a parent’s heart like hearing their child was hungry. Lin Xiaojuan immediately sprang into action. “Right away! Mom will fix you something to eat.”
Song Tianyuan followed her into the kitchen. “I’ll help you with that.”
Song Yue watched their busy forms in the kitchen, a smile touching her lips.
The meal that followed was more lavish than any they’d had before. Her parents were clearly overjoyed by her safe return, preparing an elaborate spread of steamed eggs, pancakes, potstickers, fried sticky rice cakes with brown sugar, and red bean buns.
Since the three of them couldn’t possibly eat it all, Song Yue stored the rest in her Space.
“Xiao Yue, didn’t you say your Space was running out of room?” Song Tianyuan asked cautiously. “Can it still fit all that?”
Song Yue smiled. “It upgraded. It’s eight thousand cubic meters now. Plenty of room for food.”
“Is that so? It can upgrade,” Song Tianyuan nodded, pleased. “That’s good.”
After breakfast, Song Yue moved the family’s water tanks and diesel fuel into the Space. Now that she had the capacity, she could simply retrieve them whenever they needed them over the coming month.
That night, the torrential rain showed no sign of stopping.
The next morning, July 2nd, C City issued an emergency notice: all entertainment and daily activities were suspended. Everyone was ordered to stay indoors—no exceptions, except for government employees and rescue teams.
The announcement set the internet on fire.
“How long will the lockdown last? What if we run out of food?!”
“They just lock us down without warning! Have they considered how regular people are supposed to eat?”
“What are we going to do? My family has five people and we only have two buckets of instant noodles left. Can someone please deliver some supplies to my house?”
“Are you crazy? We’re all struggling here. Who’s going to give you their food?”
“Everyone, calm down. My dad works for the government, and he left this morning to respond to the call. I’m sure they’ll solve the food problem soon.”
“Boohoo… even so, our stockpiles won’t last until then! Can anyone give us a definite time? When will the food be distributed?”
The online forums were a chaotic mess of panic and desperation.
Song Yue scrolled through the posts briefly before exiting the discussion.
Meanwhile, Lin Xiaojuan and Song Tianyuan were still scrolling through their phones. Short videos on platforms like Douyin and Toutiao flooded their feeds, filled with the heart-wrenching sobs and desperate pleas of people in distress.
“Oh, this is awful…” Lin Xiaojuan sighed, staring at her screen. “This old man has been bedridden for a long time and is on life support. Now his oxygen tank is almost empty. His granddaughter is the one filming, begging for help.”
“I’m seeing the same thing,” Song Tianyuan said, his brow furrowed in deep sympathy. “This one’s a husband. His wife is in labor, but they can’t find anyone to help with the delivery. He’s absolutely frantic. If Xiao Yue were ever in that position without a doctor nearby, I’d lose my mind!”
Song Yue couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “Dad, I’m not even married yet.”
Lin Xiaojuan immediately hissed, “Pah, pah, pah! One thing has nothing to do with another. It’s one thing to feel for other people, but don’t go bringing that bad luck onto our daughter. She’s fine! Why are you saying such ominous things?”
“Right, right. I misspoke,” Song Tianyuan replied quickly, narrowly escaping a lecture.
Three more days passed in a blur. On July 5th, the weather service announced that the torrential rain would downgrade to moderate rain.
The internet immediately buzzed with speculation. Was this the turning point? Would the storm finally begin to fade?
Some supported the idea, others opposed it.
But the government still hadn’t made an official statement.
A few observant users sensed a deeper meaning and posted their analysis: “The government’s silence this long… could it mean the rain will just keep falling?”
The comment sent the already fragile peace of the internet into a fresh frenzy.
“We’re screwed. That actually seems possible!”
“What are we supposed to do? It’s been days! Has the government just abandoned us?”
“That’s unacceptable! Everyone, start posting! Amplify the public outcry! We can’t just sit here and starve to death!”
Anxious chatter flooded the network. Song Yue sighed, feeling powerless.
In her past life, the government’s relief supplies hadn’t arrived until two weeks after the disaster began.
Even though it took two full weeks, that was considered a remarkably fast response for Country Z, a nation that had developed for decades in an era of peace.
And today was only July 5th. Residents still had nine more days to wait before they would receive any relief supplies.
As she was lost in thought, Lin Xiaojuan suddenly stood up and stared out the balcony. “There’s something in the sky.”
Song Tianyuan scoffed. “In rain this heavy? Even the birds are hiding. What could possibly be out there?”
Lin Xiaojuan shot him a glare. “Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Song Yue heard the faint thrum of rotors over the rain. In her distraction, her finger slipped, swiping the screen. A new set of posts appeared instantly.
OMG, helicopters outside! Did you guys see them?!
Brothers and sisters, the government is distributing food! Our kids have been starving for three days—they’re saved!
My mom asked why I’m crying. I told her it’s because this is the power of Papa State!
Song Yue froze.
It’s only the 5th. The government sent helicopters already?
She rushed to the balcony and pressed her face against the glass.
It was real.
Three helicopters.
At the same time, a booming announcement echoed through Nanshan Community: “Attention residents of Nanshan Community. Please bring your identification cards and proceed to the rooftop in an orderly fashion. Register your information to receive relief supplies. Attention residents of Nanshan Community…”
Lin Xiaojuan was stunned. “The government moved so fast!”
Song Tianyuan gaped, his mouth hanging open, unable to find words.
They were amazed that the state had acted so quickly to deliver food after only a few days.
But Song Yue was stunned for another reason…
The timeline had shifted.
The timing of the torrential rain hadn’t changed, but the government’s response had.
What did this mean?
A thought flashed through Song Yue’s mind: Someone in the government is a regressor!
And that person was likely another one who had been reborn.
Residents of the Nanshan Community, clad in raincoats or clutching umbrellas, streamed toward their building rooftops.
The relief supplies were distributed per person—a five-day ration available to anyone with a valid ID. If a family member was ill or unable to travel, someone else could collect their share using their ID.
The government had sent enough food to ensure no one would starve to death at home.
Song Yue and her parents went to claim their shares. Though they weren’t short on food yet, they were entitled to the government’s distribution.
On the way up and down, Song Yue saw faces transformed with joy. The gloom of the past few days, born from the fear of starvation, had completely vanished.
Back home, she unpacked the food bag. It contained rice balls, boiled cabbage, sliced pork, roasted chicken, apples, and milk.
They prepared thoroughly this time, she thought.
Though she didn’t know who the other regressor was, Song Yue felt a wave of relief. At least this time, everyone would be saved.
But while the community rejoiced, Zou Chen was seething in the guesthouse, struggling to keep his temper in check.
“Mom, how could you be so careless?” he snapped. “How do you lose an ID card?!”
Two days ago, he’d been shut out by Song Yue. On the way back, he’d gotten caught in the rain and came down with a cold. He’d hoped the food distribution today would cheer him up, but instead, his mother had managed to lose her ID card.
What a disaster!
As he watched others line up for their rations, he felt lost. Maybe… if I explain it to the government officials, they’ll let us register?
With that thought, he pulled Mother Zou along. “Never mind. Let’s just get in line first!”
While they waited, Mother Zou couldn’t stop herself from grumbling.
“What kind of people live in this city? Stealing ID cards! Have they no shame?”
“Can’t they see how old I am? Even a petty thief should have some decency. Bah!”
“This city is no good. My three-story house back home is much better—warm in winter, cool in summer!”
As more and more people glared at her, Zou Chen nudged his mother. “Mom, stop it.”
Mother Zou rolled her eyes. “What? You’re telling your own mother to shut up now?”
Zou Chen said nothing, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache flared.
When it was finally their turn, Zou Chen explained the situation. The staff member didn’t give them a hard time and simply asked them to fill out their identification information.
Zou Chen quickly wrote down his name and ID number, then collected his portion of food.
When it was time for Mother Zou, he looked up. “Mom, what’s your ID number?”
Mother Zou glared at him. “How should I know? You’re the one who’s supposed to remember it for me!”
Zou Chen groaned, his head throbbing. “My phone got water-damaged on the way back that day, remember? I can’t even turn it on. How am I supposed to look it up? Mom, think! You can’t possibly have no idea what it is.”
The staff member, caught in the middle of their argument, hesitated with the food ration held halfway out.
Mother Zou frowned, thinking hard for a long moment. When she looked up and saw the staff member’s reluctant expression, her annoyance flared. “Listen, young lady, what’s with that look? Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You’re trying to cheat me out of my food, aren’t you?”
The staff member sighed. “Ma’am, it’s not that I don’t want to give it to you. It’s just that the rules say you have to provide your information first.”
“I’m an old woman with a bad memory! So what if I can’t remember it? Are you just going to let me starve to death?” Mother Zou stepped forward and snatched the food from the staff member’s hand.
“Ma’am! You have to register first!” the staff member cried, rushing after her.
“I can’t remember! I’m not registering!”
“Then can you at least write down your home address and contact information?”
Mother Zou clutched the food to her chest and shrank back. “Ask my son. I can’t remember any of it.”
The staff member turned to Zou Chen. He took the pen, thought for a long moment, and then slowly wrote down a vague, general address.
“Is that all?” the staff member asked.
Zou Chen looked helpless. “We’ve moved several times. I haven’t been back to my hometown since I came to C City, so I can’t quite recall the exact address.”
“What about your mother’s phone number?”
“I… I don’t really remember that either…” Zou Chen scratched the back of his head in frustration.
With no other choice, the staff member stepped aside to call her supervisor. After receiving approval, she finally let Mother Zou take the supplies and leave.
“Tch,” Mother Zou grumbled. “City people are so damn fussy. I’m a living, breathing person standing right here! What do they need all this proof for?”
“Mom!” Zou Chen raised his voice.
Only then did Mother Zou fall silent.
Back at the guesthouse, the mother and son unpacked their relief supplies.
“Boiled cabbage?” Mother Zou scoffed. “How pathetic. Is the government really that short on money?”
“Apples? Tsk, they’re okay. Who knows how much pesticide’s on them.”
“Milk? Let me check the expiration date. I’m not getting diarrhea from this.”
The moment they saw the food, Mother Zou’s sharp tongue started running again.
In the past, Zou Chen would have just let it slide; he’d grown up in this environment, after all.
But today, the more he listened, the more irritable he became.
The last of his appetite vanished. He slammed the food onto the table and sprawled onto the bed.
The guesthouse mattress was cheap—he’d picked the cheapest one in the area to save money—and it felt like a board against his back.
He suddenly found himself longing for Song Yue’s fully furnished apartment. What a place that was. He’d heard from Song Yue that the mattress alone cost over 6,000 yuan. It must be incredibly comfortable to sleep on.
When will her family be back? he wondered. Once I get word, I’ll find a way. I’m definitely getting my mother and me into that apartment!