“Xiao Qian?” A kind-faced woman gently patted Wen Qian’s shoulder, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.
“What are you standing here for? Aren’t you going to school?”
Wen Qian, who was puzzled by how the signboard of her family’s shop had all changed, turned her head in confusion to look at the woman greeting her.
Do they know each other? And why is she telling her to go to school? She just got on vacation, didn’t she?
“You…”
Before she could finish her sentence, the words caught in her throat. Wen Qian looked down in surprise at the deep blue sleeve—this was not the clothing she was wearing.
She remembered wearing that set of ugly but comfortable home clothes her friends had mocked. She had been halfway through playing the game and was about to go downstairs to buy some oden, so she hadn’t considered changing.
Realizing something was wrong, Wen Qian immediately looked up at the glass door of the convenience store across the street. Seeing a familiar but noticeably smaller version of her own face reflected there, Wen Qian’s eyes widened.
What’s going on?
In an instant, all the novels she had read flooded her mind. She suspected she had been reborn.
But she quickly ruled out that possibility. What she was wearing was clearly a school uniform, with a student ID pinned to the pocket of the jacket.
Her original school didn’t have such a suit-style uniform—not only her school, but no other schools in her city had anything like it.
Only a small number of private schools would choose such a uniform.
Overwhelmed by information, Wen Qian’s expression stiffened, and she forgot about the woman who had just spoken kindly to her, not responding.
The woman followed Wen Qian’s dazed gaze and saw it land on the signboard of the breakfast shop by the roadside. She nodded knowingly and smiled.
“You haven’t eaten yet, right? I’ll buy you something.”
Taking advantage of this seemingly familiar person leaving, Wen Qian immediately began searching for something to prove this body’s identity. After searching thoroughly, she found only a student card in her pocket.
—Wen Qian, Saint Thorn Royal Academy, Rose Class, Student ID xxxxxx.
Both the school’s name and the class name were filled with a vibe that made one want to mock.
Normally, Wen Qian would have taken a photo to share with her friends and laugh.
But now she couldn’t care about that. She just felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu about the school’s name.
Before she could figure out where that déjà vu came from, the woman who had gone to buy breakfast returned.
Not knowing how to treat this familiar stranger, Wen Qian took a deep breath and spoke in a tone she hoped was appropriate: “Thank you so much. I’m actually a bit hungry.”
She watched the woman’s expression closely to adjust her tone if needed.
The woman looked a little surprised.
Wen Qian’s heart skipped a beat. What did that mean? She reviewed what she just said. Was she too polite?
Before she could say anything to make up for it, the woman spoke with some relief.
“Xiao Qian’s grown up… that’s good. If your mom saw this, she’d definitely…” She hesitated. “Forget it, no need to talk about sad things. Auntie will take you to school.”
No, keep talking!
Seeing the nearly lost chance at information, Wen Qian could only nod regretfully and followed the woman to the car parked by the road.
Once in the car, sitting in the back seat, Wen Qian looked in the rearview mirror at the clearly familiar face and felt increasingly uneasy—is this really not her body? How could it look exactly the same?
“Xiao Qian, if you ever need help with anything, come to Auntie. Don’t be afraid to bother me, okay?” The woman in the driver’s seat said gently.
Wen Qian didn’t dare say more, only nodded softly.
The car stopped at a parking spot by the roadside, and the woman got out. Wen Qian followed her to the gate of this so-called school.
Seeing the magnificent, dazzling golden gate, Wen Qian’s face showed disbelief, her brain buzzing, unable to believe what she saw.
—This was clearly the birthplace shown at the start of her game!
No wonder the original owner’s student ID looked familiar—the name on it was the same name shown every time in the game’s opening animation.
[Ding, newbie tutorial activated — Traveler verification in progress… Verification successful, Hello Wen Qian]
What’s that sound?
Wen Qian’s eyelid twitched. Just as she wanted to speak, she saw Aunt Jiang walking towards her and silently closed her mouth.
Yes, she already knew the name of this first person she’d met after coming to this world.
Because floating above her head was a translucent green box—[Aunt Jiang].
Everything was extremely similar to the game she had played before crossing over, even the weirdly colored ID card floating above her head was the same.
“Xiao Qian, Auntie still has work to do, so I won’t keep you long. You can go to school by yourself.” Aunt Jiang patted Wen Qian’s head, gave her a few instructions, then turned to leave.
Watching Aunt Jiang’s back, Wen Qian sighed in relief. Although Aunt Jiang cared a lot about her, getting along with her was really stressful for her right now.
Besides knowing Aunt Jiang’s surname, she knew nothing else!
Oh wait, at least she knew Aunt Jiang knew the body’s mother—and that something had probably happened to the mother, or else Aunt Jiang wouldn’t have used “sad things” as a euphemism when talking to her.
Wen Qian looked up at the intimidatingly magnificent school gate and took a deep breath.
Then she turned and walked away.
No way—who would want to go to school without even figuring out what’s going on?
She had to at least figure out why she was here before doing anything else.
After walking a few steps along the sidewalk, Wen Qian’s pace slowed, her expression serious.
…Wait, where did the original owner of this body live again?
Just as a question popped up in her mind, the solution appeared the next second.
—A long string of arrows appeared on the ground, pointing along the road all the way to the end.
Wen Qian carefully observed the reactions of the passersby around her. Seeing that no one noticed the illusory arrows, she breathed a sigh of relief and followed the arrows back.
Walking with stops and starts, she returned to the breakfast shop’s entrance and then followed the arrows all the way to what seemed to be the original owner’s residence.
Looking at the tightly shut door in front of her, Wen Qian instinctively patted her pockets—no keys, only that student ID card that invited mockery.
“Um… System?” Wen Qian called in her mind to the mechanical voice that had mysteriously appeared before. “Do you know where the keys are?”
She didn’t speak out loud. Although she was alone, talking to herself felt odd. According to her experience reading novels, systems like this usually communicate directly in one’s mind.
A virtual screen appeared in front of Wen Qian’s eyes. On it was a photo divided into a nine-grid layout, with a line of small text at the top.
[Door Opening Identity Verification — Please select the picture containing a zebra crossing]
Wen Qian twitched the corner of her mouth. What’s this? A CAPTCHA test?
“3469,” she silently read out the image numbers.
[Congratulations host, verification successful]
A cluster of small virtual fireworks exploded before Wen Qian’s eyes, accompanied by cheap sound effects mixed with inexplicable crowd cheers.
—“Well done, awesome!”
—“Unbelievable!”
—“Perfect!”
Wen Qian felt suffocated. Was all that really necessary for such a thing?
The door promptly opened. Wen Qian hesitated stepping in—she still didn’t know who lived in the original owner’s home.
Unprepared to face the original owner’s parents, she only hoped that no one was home; otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to explain why she was at home during school hours.
The moment she saw inside, Wen Qian realized her worries were unnecessary.
It was clearly a single-person residence.
The empty room, viewed from the entrance, showed the bathroom, living room, kitchen, and “bedroom” all in one glance.
The living room and bedroom were just a sofa and bed in the same space. The kitchen was on the balcony. The bathroom was a separate, very cramped little space.
As Wen Qian stepped inside, the door closed automatically behind her. Without the system, this would have felt like some kind of ghost story.
She carefully bypassed the entrance area and looked around a few times before sitting down at the edge of the sofa, feeling as awkward as a guest in someone else’s home.
“System, are you there?” she took a deep breath. “Can you tell me why I ended up here?”
The system didn’t reply but popped up a dark green screen before her eyes. The main interface showed pixel-art character panels.
Seeing this panel, Wen Qian finally realized where that vague déjà vu since entering this world came from.
—This was clearly the game she had played before crossing over!
The single-player mini-game called “Academy of Light” had been Wen Qian’s new favorite before she crossed over. The game was nicknamed the Career Simulator by players.
Every player entering the game started as a student and could choose a future career, including but not limited to lawyer, merchant, pianist…
Because the career module was so detailed, covering all sorts of professions, the game gradually gained the reputation of Career Simulator.
Wen Qian had been drawn in by this and, before crossing over, had reached her twelfth account. She gave up the final achievement account—a jailed accountant—and opened a new account to try out a new career. The game’s biggest drawback was that it did not allow saving.
Because of the game’s non-replaceability, Wen Qian had to vent her frustration while opening new accounts.
But she could not understand why she had crossed into the game. Was it just because she had played the game for two whole days straight?
Skipping past her photo on the screen, Wen Qian scanned the mission stats and finally focused on the upper right corner of the screen.
There was a small envelope icon. She mentally clicked it, and a letter popped up.
[Dear Player, thank you for your years of support. We regret to inform you of your death…]
Wen Qian’s finger froze. What did that mean? She… was dead?
Wasn’t she crossing over on her way downstairs to buy something?
Calming her rapid heartbeat, Wen Qian recalled her last memory before crossing over bit by bit.
At that time, she was about to go downstairs to buy breakfast and then go back to sleep…
Wait, Wen Qian’s expression stiffened. She had felt unwell before leaving, and then—
The scene from her memory slowly appeared before her eyes. She was wearing home clothes, walking to the door, about to open it, when suddenly everything went black. After a moment of dizziness, she lost consciousness.
“…Am I really dead?” she murmured.
She didn’t want to die. Being reborn in another world might be a good thing, but she didn’t want to stay in this world.
She wanted to go back… at least to go back and tidy her room, change into decent clothes, finally wipe her phone clean, and then die properly!
To die so casually like this—she would rot away, along with her shameful phone!
At this moment, Wen Qian truly felt what it meant for the sky to fall.