With a swish, Yang Zengyue suddenly heard the sound of a curtain being pulled open.
Then she sensed a stranger approaching and instantly snapped awake.
The moment she opened her eyes, before she even had time to check her surroundings, she reached for the spot where she always kept her weapon while she slept.
But bizarrely, her knife had vanished without a trace!!!
How was that possible?!
Who in the entire Mid-Dimensional Realm would dare take her knife? They’d have to be tired of living!
With no time to think further, her hand found a rectangular object about thirteen centimeters long.
She gripped it at once, sprang upright with a swift kip-up, then braced against the bed rail and pressed the object to the newcomer’s throat, her movements fast as lightning.
There could be no hesitation. Hesitation meant death.
That was the lesson she had learned from seven years of clawing through the apocalypse, stained head to toe in blood.
But in that instant, she realized something was wrong.
The bed in her dormitory at the Mid-Dimensional camp definitely did not look like this!
Then, in the stranger’s eyes, she saw her own reflection.
A head of jet-black long hair, sleepy eyes, and a clean, unblemished face.
A version of herself that felt completely unfamiliar.
She lifted her gaze and looked around the room.
She was in a very cramped space, clearly a bunk bed of the kind found only in a shared dormitory. Even the color of the bed curtains looked familiar.
In that instant, Yang Zengyue pulled herself back from the metal bed rail she had been leaning against.
Then she calmly withdrew her hand.
As though the scene of her pressing the rectangular object to someone’s throat had never happened.
Only then did she get a clear look at the newcomer’s face.
The sight made her suck in a sharp breath.
Fortunately, because the aura she had sensed hadn’t felt particularly hostile, she hadn’t used much force, and what she was holding wasn’t a knife. Otherwise, the person standing before her would likely have ended up with her head parted from her neck…
Shu Ranran was still too stunned by what had just happened to recover, and stood frozen in place.
She had seen intense killing intent in her roommate’s eyes, completely different from the Yang Zengyue she knew.
Although Yang Zengyue usually didn’t like interacting with others, she had always been gentle.
But just now…
Shu Ranran’s heart had nearly leaped into her throat. For a moment she had truly thought Yang Zengyue was about to kill her!
Too rattled to dwell on it, Shu Ranran said hurriedly, “Zengyue, why did you wake up so late today? It’s already 7:40. First period is Yama’s class. Aren’t you afraid she’ll take attendance?”
Her voice was full of concern, mixed with a hint of anxiety.
Yang Zengyue stared straight at that face with her beautiful almond eyes.
If her memory wasn’t mistaken, this pleasant face with its delicate features and gentle air belonged to her college roommate, Shu Ranran.
But she hadn’t seen Shu Ranran in seven years. Even in her dreams she had never dreamed of her, so why had she suddenly appeared now?
Seeing that Yang Zengyue wasn’t responding, Shu Ranran was surprised. Aloof as this roommate usually was, she would normally answer a few words when spoken to in the dorm.
She had never been this absent-minded.
Nor this fierce.
The way she looked at people was unsettling, as if she could see straight through their hearts.
Noticing Shu Ranran’s gaze, Yang Zengyue reined in her aura.
She wasn’t sure whether this was a dream.
Because in her last memory, she had died. With an explosion that violent, not even an immortal could have survived.
She had been blown to ashes. What little remained of her flesh and bone had probably been devoured clean by those creatures…
So there was no way someone as thoroughly dead as she was could still be dreaming.
Then what was going on with this living, breathing Shu Ranran before her?
Just now, when she had pressed the rectangular object to her throat, her hand had felt the warmth of a living body.
Shu Ranran was alive!
Then she took a sniff of the air.
To her surprise, there was none of the overpowering, nauseating stench that mutant beasts gave off. Instead, there was even a faint, pleasant fragrance.
This definitely wasn’t Zhaoqi Mountain, where she had met her end.
Then where could it be?
Yang Zengyue frowned and fell into thought.
Seeing that Yang Zengyue was still spacing out at a time like this, Shu Ranran stamped her foot and said hurriedly, “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late! Keep daydreaming if you like, I’m heading out first!”
She didn’t have time to wonder why Yang Zengyue was acting so strangely, because their teacher, “Yama,” was even scarier than the look Yang Zengyue had just given her!
At the thought of that face, Shu Ranran shivered twice, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and hurried off.
Only after the sound of the door closing reached Yang Zengyue’s ears, along with the cheerful ringing of her phone, did she narrow her eyes and carefully sweep her sharp gaze across the room once more.
Yang Zengyue finally came fully back to her senses.
This was reality, not a dream.
A dream could not possibly feel this real.
And the place she was in right now was actually her college dormitory.
The dormitory still existed.
Which meant that the catastrophe that had nearly wiped out the entire Mid-Dimensional Realm had not yet arrived?
Yes, that had to be it.
In an instant, Yang Zengyue felt her heart come alive again.
As if remembering something, she raised her trembling hand and brought the rectangular object she had been holding up before her eyes.
It was her phone.
Fortunately, she had set it to unlock with her fingerprint. Otherwise she definitely wouldn’t have remembered the password…
The date on the screen read June 22. Summer vacation should be only a few days away.
She had actually returned, after death, to a time before the apocalyptic disaster began.
It was simply unbelievable!
Yang Zengyue picked up her phone and dialed a number that had been etched into her memory in her previous life, a number she would never dare forget.
“Beep… beep… beep…”
After a few rings, the call connected. Yang Zengyue’s heart pounded wildly.
“Zengyue, calling Grandpa this early in the morning, did something happen?” A kind, gentle voice came through the phone.
The moment she heard that voice, Yang Zengyue felt as though her heart had finally found its home.
Her hand gripped the phone tightly, the veins on the back of it standing out.
Suppressing her emotions, Yang Zengyue said in a low voice, “Master, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much… so, so much…”
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back in time to save you in my previous life. I’m sorry I never even learned whether you were alive or dead. I’m sorry that in the end I never found you, not even your body.
With her eyes closed, tears slipped from the corners of her slightly upturned eyes.
This voice had lingered in her dreams for seven whole years.
For seven long years, she had never been able to let it go.
She believed it was her fault, that she had failed to protect her master.
Later, to make up for the guilt in her heart, she set out on the path of growing stronger, solely to atone for her regrets.
Following her master’s teachings, she helped those in need, to ease her own suffering.
To fill the hollow void within her heart.
Jiuxiao didn’t know why his granddaughter was suddenly saying such things. She had just come home over the May Day holiday, barely a month ago.
“Silly girl, summer vacation is almost here. Once you come home, you’ll be able to see Grandpa.”
“Mhm. Master, wait for me at home. Be good and don’t go anywhere. Zengyue wants to have a proper talk with you.”
Her soft words carried Yang Zengyue’s endless longing.
“All right.”
On the other end of the line, Jiuxiao was a little puzzled. His granddaughter had always been someone who kept her emotions hidden.
Yet this call was full of feeling. Hard as she tried to suppress it, Jiuxiao could still hear a trace of sorrow in her voice.
He worried that she might have been bullied at school.
He worried that she might have suffered some wrong and was unwilling to tell him about it.
But then he thought of her skills. Although he had always taught her never to use her strength to bully others and never to reveal her martial abilities lightly, she was hardly one to be bullied.
After all, she had been the “Little Tyrant” who went undefeated all over Sikun Mountain since childhood, a cultivator with sixteen years of hard training behind her.
So she couldn’t have been bullied.
Something else must have happened.
But what could it be?
Had those families made a move against Zengyue?
But that shouldn’t be possible!
His name had long since been struck from the family records, and only the family head knew where he had gone.
There was no way those people could have found Zengyue.