Scorching heat. Agonizing pain.
That was Qiao Yu’s only sensation in the darkness.
Sensation? Could a person still feel anything after death?
Her tightly shut eyelashes fluttered. A sharp, white light pierced through the slit of her opening eyes, forcing her to retreat back into the darkness.
Her head throbbed violently, and the sharp scent of disinfectant filled her nose. Nearby, an unfamiliar woman’s voice was calling out, seemingly summoning a doctor.
Was she in a hospital? Had she been rescued?
No, that was impossible.
After an explosion like that, no one could have pulled her out alive.
Was this a dream? Or an illusion?
Tap—tap—
Steady footsteps echoed beside her. It sounded like a man. Whether it was her imagination or sheer nostalgia, Qiao Yu found the footsteps strangely familiar—strikingly like an old friend’s.
As expected, she was already dead. Otherwise, how could she hear Cheng Sinian’s footsteps?
Had Cheng Sinian come to guide her to the afterlife?
No, that wasn’t right. Where was A-Zhan? Why hadn’t he come himself? Did he not want her anymore? How could he bear to let someone else fetch her!
The sudden wave of panic made Qiao Yu struggle harder. Finally, squinting against the harsh light, she slowly forced her eyes open.
All she saw was stark white. It seemed to be a hospital room. For some reason, it looked faintly familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before, though she couldn’t place it at the moment.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” The man at the door happened to step in just then. Seeing her eyes open, he asked casually as he walked closer, completely unaware of the shock in her gaze.
Qiao Yu stared blankly at him from the moment he appeared, entirely at a loss for how to react. The man before her wore a white lab coat, held her medical chart, and possessed smooth skin on his handsome face.
How could he… have no scars?
This was indeed the Cheng Sinian of her memories, yet not the one she knew so well.
Or rather, this was the Cheng Sinian from before the Apocalypse.
Dazed, Qiao Yu looked down and slowly raised her trembling hands before her eyes. Her skin was fair and delicate—no rough cracks, no hideous scars, not even the thick calluses worn into her palms from years of gripping blades. An IV needle was taped to the back of her hand, fluid steadily dripping down. Around her slender, smooth wrist was a red string bearing a jade pendant left behind by her mother. The pendant was intact, glowing with a faint, translucent green luster in the morning sunlight.
Qiao Yu drew a sharp breath. With a sudden jerk, she ripped out the needle and the medical tape, then violently stabbed it back into the flesh of her hand.
Blood welled up. It hurt.
It wasn’t a dream, nor was it an illusion.
How could this be…
“Qiao Yu, what are you doing?!”
Cheng Sinian had already felt something was off with her prolonged silence. Turning his head, he was horrified to see her savagely pull the needle out and stab it right back in. His voice cracked in terror as he rushed forward to yank the needle away, pressing down firmly on the back of her hand to stop the bleeding. What a nightmare! If anything happened to this little ancestor under his watch, Jiang Zhan would skin him alive!
The warm touch pulled Qiao Yu’s racing thoughts back to reality. She stared straight at Cheng Sinian, parted her lips, and asked with difficulty, “…What year is it?”
“Huh? Weren’t you just stabbing yourself with an IV needle a second ago? Now you’re playing dumb with me?” Cheng Sinian almost laughed out of frustration. But glancing at her pale face, he couldn’t help softening. He sighed and continued, “Qiao Yu, I know you feel wronged, but this marriage agreement was truly set by your parents while they were still alive. Brother Zhan has never lied to you. There are still two months until your twentieth birthday. I hope you’ll reconsider. He really, truly loves you…”
The moment Qiao Yu heard the words “still two months until your twentieth birthday,” a loud buzz rang in her ears, drowning out everything else he said.
At that moment, Qiao Yu finally understood why the room felt so familiar. She had indeed been here before—six months after her parents passed away.
Back then, Jiang Zhan had come to her with her parents’ will, telling her that they had arranged an engagement before their deaths. Once she turned twenty, they would marry.
She had been terrified by the news, falling desperately ill with a high fever. When she woke up, she was in this very room.
But how long ago had that been? What did he mean, two months until her twentieth birthday? Before her twentieth birthday… wasn’t that before the Apocalypse? How could…
Her mind a whirlwind of chaos, Qiao Yu caught sight of a phone on the bedside table—both unfamiliar and yet known. She immediately leaned over, grabbed it, and pressed the lock button. The date on the screen leaped out at her.
Every piece of evidence pointed toward the most impossible truth. Qiao Yu’s mind went completely blank, leaving only one word behind: Rebirth.
A mist of tears gradually clouded her eyes. She really hadn’t died… No, she had died, but she was alive again… After enduring four brutal years in the Apocalypse, she had actually returned to the time before it all began.
The realization brought both overwhelming joy and sheer terror. Joy, because in this second life, she had a chance to start over. Terror, because if the Apocalypse was destined to arrive just as it had in her previous life, there were only twenty-one days left until the Day of the First Omen—and only twenty-five days until its total outbreak.
“…Where is Jiang Zhan?” Cheng Sinian was still rambling on beside her, but Qiao Yu hadn’t absorbed a single word. She cut him off abruptly. Right now, she only wanted to see Jiang Zhan and confirm with her own eyes that he was still alive.
Cheng Sinian paused, looking at Qiao Yu in surprise. Seeing that her eyes were brimming with tears yet devoid of anger, he stammered uncharacteristically, “He’s… he’s abroad…” This little ancestor actually wanted to see Jiang Zhan? Had his persuasion genuinely worked?
Qiao Yu’s eyes widened, genuine panic written across her face. Even her voice trembled slightly. “What did he go abroad for? When will he be back?”
Cheng Sinian was taken aback again. Had he not just seen Qiao Yu a few days ago and admitted her yesterday with his own hands, he would have suspected this little ancestor had been swapped with someone else. Still, keeping his bewilderment to himself, he swiftly pulled out his phone, looked up news about the Jiang Corporation in his browser, and held it out to her. “Brother Zhan went to the States to negotiate a merger. He’ll probably be back in about half a month. If you want to see him, I can contact him right now and send you over.”
Qiao Yu said nothing, her gaze fixed entirely on the news article displayed on the screen.
“Jiang Corporation officially acquires the production facilities, R&D division, distribution channels, inventory, and multiple subsidiary brands of Simon in the United States for 8.2 million euros… Jiang Zhan, CEO of Jiang Corporation, attended the conference…”
Qiao Yu raised a trembling hand, gently tracing the cold, resolute face on the screen. Tears finally spilled over, streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks.
Qiao Yu had been blessed with striking beauty from birth, growing only more captivating with age. Her lovely eyes evoked tender sympathy even when dry, let alone now, bathed in tears like pear blossoms drenched in spring rain—a truly heart-wrenching sight.
Yet, appreciating such beauty was the last thing on Cheng Sinian’s mind. The moment her tears fell, cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He parted his lips, utterly lost for words.
Cheng Sinian had majored in clinical medicine with a minor in psychology. He could sense the tangled storm of grief and joy within her, yet he couldn’t fathom the reason behind it. Hadn’t he just told her where Jiang Zhan was? Why on earth was this little ancestor crying? If Jiang Zhan found out, would there ever be another peaceful day in his life? Heaven as his witness, he hadn’t done a single thing!
Looking at that familiar face on the screen, Qiao Yu desperately suppressed the urge to throw caution to the wind and fly straight to his side.
No. At least, not right now.
Just as Cheng Sinian was agonizing over whether to risk his life and call Jiang Zhan for help, Qiao Yu’s tears finally began to subside. In a soft, steady voice, she said:
“I… I want to be discharged.”