Where was Song Yue?
In her own space, of course.
After all that bustle, she was starting to feel hungry. After dropping off the three people, she paddled her kayak around to the west side of the Hypermarket.
An outdoor steel staircase led to the roof there. Song Yue tied her kayak to the railing, confirmed no one was around, and vanished with a whoosh.
The shelves were stocked with all her favorite foods. After a bit of browsing, she picked out a container of fish-flavored shredded pork over rice, then sat cross-legged on the floor.
As she carefully peeled back the plastic wrap, the aroma of the food wafted over her. The shredded pork, in particular, still held the vibrant color and fresh scent of a dish just taken off the stove. Even a casual bite with her chopsticks revealed the meat’s springy, firm texture.
Song Yue didn’t hesitate and began eating heartily.
The takeout place she’d ordered from was known not only for its great flavors but also for its exceptional rice. Most restaurants served poor-quality rice—dry, flavorless, and coarse.
But this place was different. The owner spared no expense, always using a blend of high-quality pearl rice and fresh, rural-harvested rice. He even kept the rice cooker out in the open, so customers could see it. Whenever a fresh batch finished steaming, the entire restaurant filled with its delicate, sweet fragrance.
Paired with their home-style dishes, it was a meal to remember.
Song Yue savored every bite, polishing off the full container in no time.
Her family had always finished their meals with soup. The shelves held plenty of options. After scanning the labels on the takeout containers, Song Yue finally picked out a small pot of clear shiitake mushroom soup.
The fish-flavored shredded pork was a classic Sichuan dish—rich and oily. A bowl of light, fragrant mushroom soup was the perfect way to cut through the grease.
Once she had eaten and drunk her fill, Song Yue patted her stomach contentedly.
Before leaving the space, she stuffed some bread, bottled water, compressed biscuits, and other supplies into her backpack, just in case.
She also needed to change out of her soaked clothes and into her waterproof gear, which she had bought at a sports store near her home. She had three sets; she put one on and stored the wet clothes in the space, planning to dry them later.
In just over ten minutes, the water level rose another few centimeters. Song Yue stood on the steel staircase and peered into the hypermarket’s second floor; the water already reached the woman’s knees.
At this rate, the second floor would be flooded soon. She had to move to higher ground.
She would also need a few helpers.
Paddling was physically demanding work.
Finding high ground could take a long time, and she couldn’t paddle alone for that long. Besides, there was always the risk of robbers on the way. Though she was used to such threats from her past life and wasn’t afraid, they wouldn’t be so considerate. If they saw a lone woman in a boat, they’d almost certainly attack. A few times was one thing, but any more would become an annoyance and delay her progress.
It was better to form a temporary team and decide whether to disband once they reached safety.
The kayak could hold up to eight adults. Song Yue did the math: the woman and child, the hardware store owner, Sister Mei, and herself—that made exactly four people. Wait, it was the woman and child, the hardware store owner, and Sister Mei, plus Song Yue. That was exactly eight.
But will they agree to come with me?
Song Yue waved to the group on the second floor. The woman, the store owner, and Sister Mei all spotted her.
“Sister Mei, Nannan, look! Song Yue is okay!”
“Whew—you scared me. I thought something had happened to her…”
“Is she calling us? Let’s go over and see.”
The group waded through the water, struggling toward the small west-side door.
As they approached, Song Yue noticed the woman with the child limping, as if she were injured. The hardware store owner saw it too and took the child, hoisting him onto his shoulders.
Sister Mei kept reminding the three roommates behind her to watch their step and avoid any sharp objects in the water.
Song Yue watched them all.
The store owner was timid and prone to reflexively arguing, but he was kind-hearted. Sister Mei had been rude to her in school, despising Song Yue for using her wealth to toy with people’s feelings. Yet here she was, willing to swallow her pride and beg Song Yue for help to save her friends.
No one was perfect, but everyone had their own redeeming qualities. Song Yue’s only rule for choosing companions was simple: as long as they didn’t cross her bottom line, she could accept them.
“I’m planning to kayak to higher ground and find a safer place to settle,” Song Yue announced. “What about you? Do you want to stay here, or come with me?”
They saw her standing on the stairs outside the small door, one hand casually propped against the wall.
She had changed into a new outfit—a sleek, all-black ensemble that clung to her body even more tightly than before. Rainwater slicked the fabric, tracing shimmering lines down her form.
Her physique was lean and toned, the muscles in her shoulders, arms, and abdomen defined and taut. Standing three steps above them, she looked down with an expression and a posture that could only be described as a “battle-worn beauty” from a novel.
“My god,” Nannan whispered behind Sister Mei, “I had no idea she was in such incredible shape.”
“And doesn’t she look like a super-spy with that cold, detached expression?” another roommate chimed in.
“I… I think she’s actually getting more handsome the longer I look at her. Was I blind before? Did I completely misjudge her?”
Sister Mei listened to her roommates’ chatter, her own confusion growing as she stared at Song Yue.
This wasn’t the person she remembered from school.
As an art student, Song Yue had been a campus fashion icon, always pushing boundaries with the most avant-garde and flamboyant styles she could find.
On top of it all, Song Yue was stunning—fair-skinned, beautiful, and possessed an effortless elegance. She could pull off any bizarre outfit, turning even the strangest clothes into a fashion statement.
What was the saying? With an angel’s face and a model’s body, even a rag from a trash heap would look good on her.
This unique sense of style had made Song Yue a campus celebrity since her freshman year. But her reputation took a dive when she started cycling through boyfriends at a breakneck pace, earning her a permanent spot on the Academy of Fine Arts girls’ blacklist.
Now, how could someone so habitually flamboyant suddenly become… this? A vision of cold, minimalist chic? And even more absurd, there was a hint of approachability to her new icy demeanor.
Sister Mei felt her head spinning. Had she completely misunderstood the most infamous woman in the Academy of Fine Arts?
“Sister Mei, should we just follow her?”
The roommate’s nudge snapped Sister Mei back to reality. She looked up at Song Yue, and a strange sense of security washed over her.
“Yes,” Sister Mei said without hesitation. “Let’s go.”
Song Yue didn’t notice the turmoil in the four girls’ minds. She only sensed a subtle shift in the way they were looking at her.
Could it be because I changed my clothes without them noticing? she wondered.
Probably.
Song Yue considered for a moment. She decided to mention the kayak to them later, just in case they started guessing about her abilities.
With the four Academy of Fine Arts students on board, the woman and the store owner had no reason to refuse. They didn’t know where Song Yue had gotten the kayak, but the fact that she had one was enough to make them follow her.
“Alright, since we’re all in agreement, I’m setting some ground rules before we start.”
No rules, no order, Song Yue thought, drawing on her experience from her previous life’s scavenging team. Even a small group needed structure.
“First, we’ll take turns paddling. There are seven adults, so we’ll rotate every hour.”
“Second, no arguing on the boat. If anyone does anything that threatens the group’s safety, I’ll kick them off immediately.”
“Third, I’m not responsible for your food, clothing, or shelter. If you want to survive, you’ll have to find your own supplies.”
“Any objections?”
“None,” they replied in unison.
Song Yue smiled faintly and stepped onto the kayak. “Good. Everyone, get in.”
The yellow kayak, now carrying eight people, slowly glided into the street from the west. The survivors still trapped in the hypermarket watched with burning envy.
Heaven only knew how invaluable a kayak would be in a situation like this.
The floodwaters had already risen to thigh level, and it wouldn’t be long before the second floor was completely submerged. They had to leave sooner or later.
But with no tools or transport, where could they escape to? The outside world had become a vast ocean. More than half of the buildings in the Qianhe Lake District had already disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only the hypermarket and the hotel still poking above the water.
If they wanted to survive, they had to get to the hotel.
Gradually, after a period of internal struggle, a few of them began taking action to save themselves.
A couple acted first, supporting each other as they waded slowly through the thigh-deep, frigid water. The wife spotted some woven bags stored in a cabinet and, overjoyed, hurriedly pulled them out and shoved them into her husband’s arms.
Next, she found a pair of scissors and a sewing kit in the receptionist’s desk.
“Are you sure about this?” the husband asked anxiously, keeping a lookout. “Will a few bags really help us reach the hotel?”
The wife pressed her lips together, her grim expression showing she wasn’t a hundred percent certain. But she didn’t let that destroy her hope. Instead, she took the scissors and began cutting the woven bags.
She quickly cut the large bag—big enough to hold a cotton quilt—into four long strips.
“Give me the needle and thread.”
The husband handed them over, supporting the bag so she could sew.
His wife had grown up in the countryside, where poverty meant a single garment had to be patched and mended for years. This had gifted her with a mastery of needlework.
The husband looked at her with a mix of heartache and pride. So what if she came from humble beginnings? he thought. She’d worked her way into the big city and built a life here against all odds.
It was just bad luck. He’d brought her here on vacation, and this was what happened.
We’ve fought too hard to get where we are, he resolved. We won’t die here.
He would get her out. They would survive.
***
Elsewhere, Song Yue had a plan that aligned perfectly with the couple’s.
Her own group had no supplies. Her first priority was to get them to the hotel to scavenge what they could. Only then would they assess the rising floodwaters and decide their next move.
She had already completed seven of her ten optional tasks: Rescue 10 Civilians.
She had expected the hardest part to be the most time-consuming, but she had already completed over half of it on the first day.
Ironically, the main quest she had initially ignored—Rescue 1 Companion—still hadn’t triggered.
What’s wrong with this mission? she wondered. I’ve saved the woman, the hardware store owner, Sister Mei… why hasn’t it counted?
Song Yue paused, mentally reviewing the requirement: Rescue, 1, Companion.
Suddenly, it clicked.
The key wasn’t the act of saving someone—it was the word “companion”!
This is a trap!
They’d promised the Beginner Instance would be as easy as possible. Who knew such a nasty twist would be hidden in a minor quest?
The girl and woman she met at the hardware store, the owner, and Sister Mei from the hypermarket—none of them counted.
She only had one true companion.
According to her character profile, the person with the closest relationship to the original host, who had also traveled to Thousand Crane Lake with her…
Zheng Yuexi.
The problem was, Song Yue had been separated from Zheng Yuexi long before the rainstorm began.
Now where was she supposed to find her?
Worse yet, if Zheng Yuexi was already dead, did that mean she’d failed her first Instance before it even started?