If you suddenly gained a pocket dimension, and inside it was a countdown to a global catastrophe, what would you do?
Shen Hanyin didn’t know.
She only wondered whether fate had somehow chosen her.
In Haida University’s cafeteria, Shen Hanyin carried a bowl of rice noodles while searching for a seat she liked. She was a sophomore majoring in Archaeology. After politely declining several invitations to sit with classmates, she found a quiet corner and sat down.
On the surface, she looked calm as she ate her noodles.
Inside her mind, however, everything was a mess.
A week ago, a strange space had suddenly appeared within her consciousness.
The space was enormous. At its center stood a three-story building. Calling it a building was more accurate than calling it a house because it didn’t follow the layout of normal rooms. Each floor was connected only by staircases. The interior was spacious and open, with each level covering roughly three hundred square meters. Aside from the surrounding walls, there wasn’t a single load-bearing wall inside.
Outside the building stretched a plot of land that appeared to be about the same size as the structure itself. Beyond that lay a vast open area, large enough to rival several athletic fields on campus.
Above the entire space floated a line of words:
“Catastrophe Countdown: 365 Days”
At first, she had suspected she was sick.
Perhaps the tedious coursework had damaged her mental health. Perhaps she had accidentally eaten some poisonous mushroom and was hallucinating.
Yet everything around her remained perfectly normal.
Judging from her classmates’ reactions, neither her speech nor her behavior seemed unusual. She could still answer every question her professors asked in class without difficulty.
But the countdown inside the space continued to decrease day after day.
She had tested the space repeatedly.
Objects could be stored inside.
Time outside the building seemed to pass at roughly the same rate as in reality. Ice cream placed there would melt, and hot water would gradually cool.
Inside the three-story building, however, time did not flow at all.
Whatever condition an item was in when stored would remain exactly the same when taken out.
If the space was real…
Then was the catastrophe countdown real as well?
Shen Hanyin struggled with the question.
Surely this couldn’t still be a hallucination.
Could a hallucination update itself every day like a serialized television drama?
She knew nothing about natural disasters. Even if it were a product of her imagination, the entire thing felt absurdly far-fetched.
Taking advantage of some free time, Shen Hanyin visited a psychologist off campus.
She claimed that academic pressure had been weighing on her and that she worried something might be wrong psychologically.
The psychologist asked several questions and conducted a few assessments before ruling out any obvious psychological disorders. The doctor kindly advised her not to be overly anxious and suggested that if she truly experienced troubling thoughts, she could consult the hospital’s psychiatric department.
Shen Hanyin had no intention of doing that.
Because she didn’t believe she was ill.
She had tested the space countless times and even recorded videos.
The space undeniably existed.
As far as current technology was concerned, creating something like this was impossible.
As for concepts like higher-dimensional spaces, she had only encountered them in science fiction novels.
Yet the world she lived in showed no signs of being different from before.
For her own safety, she chose not to seek confirmation from anyone else.
Left with no other options, Shen Hanyin stared at the countdown and forced herself to believe it.
If the coming catastrophe was real, she had no intention of telling anyone.
She didn’t think she could save humanity.
She certainly couldn’t save the world.
If she told people about something this unbelievable, they would only think she was insane.
And if some unimaginable disaster truly arrived in the future…
Then death was simply death.
After withdrawing her consciousness from the space, Shen Hanyin reflected on the countless cycles of doubt and self-questioning she had endured before finally managing to accept its existence.
Only then did she begin seriously considering how to prepare for the space and the catastrophe countdown.
Looking outside, she saw brilliant sunshine.
She opened the weather forecast.
The weather was normal.
The temperature was normal.
The wind direction was normal.
There wasn’t the slightest clue that anything was wrong.
Shen Hanyin took a deep breath.
Since she had decided to believe it, there was no point hesitating any longer.
After class, she began researching information online.
When people spoke of natural disasters, they generally meant extreme cold, floods, polar night, tsunamis, earthquakes, or perhaps other phenomena humanity had never witnessed before.
As for survival measures, she found suggestions such as lifeboats, escape pods, and even Noah’s Ark.
Unfortunately, those were all beyond her reach.
Judging from the nature of her space, stockpiling supplies was probably the only practical option.
She immediately dismissed the idea of building a fortified shelter.
If the disaster involved only extreme cold or only earthquakes, constructing a shelter might make sense.
But the countdown specifically referred to a catastrophe.
Shen Hanyin felt that it couldn’t possibly be limited to a single type of disaster.
In that case, no place could truly be considered absolutely safe.
Besides, even if she built a shelter, how could she defend it?
She had never underestimated the intelligence of modern people.
When the time came, becoming a target for everyone would only mean preparing a comfortable home for someone else to take.
Fortunately, Shen Hanyin had some savings.
Her father and younger uncle jointly owned a small real estate company in their hometown of Nancheng.
Her mother operated a flower shop.
During the second semester of Shen Hanyin’s freshman year, both of her parents died in a car accident.
How far could favoritism go within a family?
In her grandmother’s case, it was so extreme that shortly after one son had been buried, she could immediately bring her surviving son to demand control of the company and claim the inheritance that rightfully belonged to Shen Hanyin.
Shen Hanyin had never been particularly attached to money.
Nor did she have any interest in managing a company.
As for family affection, she had long since stopped expecting much from it.
She often felt she was one of those people destined to have weak ties with relatives.
Although her parents fulfilled their responsibilities, they rarely showed much affection.
What they taught her were manners and discipline.
They always had lives they loved more, careers they considered more important.
Since childhood, Shen Hanyin had spent her days rushing between endless extracurricular classes.
Painting.
Calligraphy.
Dance.
Piano.
Violin.
Swimming.
Roller skating.
And countless other courses she attended for only a few weeks before moving on to the next.
She had exchanged her entire childhood for a single title often praised by parents:
“The child everyone else’s parents wish they had.”
By nature, Shen Hanyin was quiet, reserved, and slow to warm up to others.
The emotionally distant environment in which she grew up had embedded loneliness deep into her bones.
As a result, she became independent, withdrawn, and unwilling to share her true feelings with anyone.
But her mother disliked that.
Madam Shen was a socially gifted woman who excelled in every situation. Deep down, she wanted her daughter to shine brightly wherever she went.
So when she realized there was a problem with Shen Hanyin’s personality, she constantly tried to change her.
But once a personality is formed, how can it be altered so easily?
After countless arguments and unhappy confrontations, Madam Shen finally locked Shen Hanyin inside a dark room.
Back then, Shen Hanyin was still young.
She didn’t understand.
She had already stopped resisting her mother.
Why was she still being locked up?
Only later did she realize the truth.
The quieter she became, the more her mother disliked her.
Eventually, Shen Hanyin wrapped herself in layers of disguise.
Little by little, she transformed into the daughter her mother wanted.
Lively.
Cheerful.
Thoughtful.
Considerate.
It was exhausting.
Yet she maintained the act for six entire years.
Everyone who met her praised her.
Only she knew the truth.
Deep inside, she was still the same person she had always been.
In fact, as she grew older, her heart only became colder.
She was no longer the child who desperately craved her mother’s attention.
She understood that what people liked was merely the version of her they saw on the surface.
Even her own mother disliked the real her.
How could she possibly expect anyone else to love that person?
The older Shen Hanyin became, the easier it was for her to accept things that once seemed unbelievable.
She grew increasingly realistic.
Feelings were intangible and unreliable.
The best relationship between people was one built on mutual interests.
She had understood since childhood that expectations only led to disappointment.
As for these so-called relatives, she had no desire to continue entangling herself with them.
She proposed a simple arrangement.
All of her parents’ remaining assets would belong solely to her.
In exchange, her uncle would pay forty million yuan in cash to buy out her share of the company entirely.
Her uncle agreed immediately.
Even her biased grandmother raised no objections.
After all, her beloved son was receiving an enormous bargain.
What reason would she have to complain?