Everything from Huamei Junior High vanished in an instant.
Xu Zhiyi stood in a pure white space where heaven and earth had no boundary, the tear tracks on her face still wet.
She groped frantically through the air, but found no path leading back to Huamei Junior High—not even the things that proved Lin Yan had existed.
The red thread Lin Yan had sewn into her cotton-padded jacket;
The nameplate Lin Yan had fastened onto her;
The little snacks Lin Yan had found for her.
This was, in fact, the game system's humanitarian consideration for players. No matter how perilous the instance they had been in moments before—even if a ghost had been clutching their ankle just a second earlier—the moment they escaped, they would vanish instantly.
Scent, sound, image—once severed, that world had nothing more to do with them.
This kind of design had almost never received negative feedback, and was often even praised by players. Who would have thought it would stumble at Xu Zhiyi?
After leaving the instance, her emotional index was actually far lower than the average for players leaving their first instance.
This would directly affect her physical health.
[Dear player Xu Zhiyi, congratulations on successfully clearing the instance. I am the system responsible for settling your instance rewards. Would you like me to introduce the reward settlement mechanism to you now?]
The long-missed mechanical voice sounded again. This time, Xu Zhiyi could see the source of the voice.
It was a sphere emitting a faint blue glow, hovering half-suspended at eye level with her. It actually gave her the feeling that it was trying to communicate on equal terms.
Except that facing this congratulations, she found it very hard to muster a friendly smile.
[You may choose one of the following rewards, and redeem it using Points.]
As the voice slowly narrated, countless glittering golden words drifted before her eyes.
Lottery winnings, first-author journal publications, world-renowned design works, physical health, and so on—all manner of beautiful aspirations, great and small.
They all revolved around wealth, connections, life, and reputation.
[The higher the degree of reality modification, the more Points required. Since Points can only be obtained by clearing instances, the choice you make will directly affect how many instances you need to clear next.]
[In this instance, you earned 1,000 base clearing Points for a C-rank instance, along with several key item nameplates. Given that you failed to leave the instance within the allotted time and displayed passive behavior during the game, after corresponding penalty deductions, your current assets total 500 Points.]
[Recommended reward for redemption: Lottery winnings of 10,000 yuan.]
Xu Zhiyi stared blankly at the countless words floating before her, unsure how much of the system's speech she had actually taken in.
After a long moment, she asked, "Am I already dead?"
[Please rest assured. Your vital signs have fluctuated slightly, but are generally within normal range.]
"Then why," Xu Zhiyi's finger moved toward the floating words "physical health," "is it gray?"
[I apologize. You cannot choose a reward that has already been redeemed.]
"But isn't this my first time clearing an instance?" She tilted her head slightly.
Several silent seconds passed.
[That reward has already been chosen by another player. You do not need to select it again.]
"What do you mean, chosen by another player?"
[Please select your reward as soon as possible.]
Such an evasive attitude quickly gave Xu Zhiyi a sense of déjà vu—before entering the game, when she had pressed the system about whether Lin Yan was a player, it had also changed the subject in that same hurried manner.
The golden text continued to swirl around her, each option sounding so easy and happy, as if no matter which one she chose, her life would become better—radiant, brilliant, and shining.
These options were not unfamiliar to her.
Each one sounded like something she had casually said to those around her in daily life—ah, if only I won the lottery, if only I designed something extraordinary, if only my health were a bit better…
But if all of these came from her wishes.
"I make a wish every single year that my brother stays safe and sound," Xu Zhiyi accused loudly. "Why isn't his name among these wishes?"
【…You can only redeem rewards related to yourself.】
"You just said my health was redeemed by my brother!" She refused to listen to this broken system's self-contradiction. "I want to redeem his now too. I want him back!"
She didn't even need confirmation from it.
The days her skin inexplicably became rosy and vibrant, the days the discomfort in her heart began to fade—weren't those exactly the days Lin Yan started disappearing more and more frequently?
Her brother's wish was for her to be healthy.
The system fell silent again.
When it spoke once more, it repeated the same line.
【Please choose your reward as soon as possible.】
Xu Zhiyi ignored it, instead searching through the countless golden texts. A person makes countless wishes in their lifetime—for themselves, for family, for friends.
Her closest family was her brother, her best friend was her brother, and the person she loved most was also him. How could Lin Yan not count as someone intimately connected to herself?
Just as her eyes were about to go blind from searching, she finally spotted Lin Yan's name.
It was tiny—only the size of a single stroke of the other wishes' characters. If it hadn't been shining with a light more dazzling than all the others, Xu Zhiyi would never have found it.
Like a fine diamond in the desert.
She raised her hand to touch the name, but was interrupted by the system's sudden voice.
【If you choose this reward, your playtime in the Instance will be immeasurable. If you do not wish to be bound to the game for years to come, please evaluate carefully before making your choice.】
"Then how much of a price did my brother pay?" she asked calmly, but a layer of mist gradually welled up in her wide-open eyes.
The system said nothing more.
The colors of the countless golden wishes slowly faded, leaving only Lin Yan's name rising high, brilliant and dazzling.
Xu Zhiyi wiped her tears and repeated for what felt like the hundredth time:
"I want my brother."
Xu Zhiyi jolted awake on the sofa.
The living room was dark, so quiet that only her rapid breathing could be heard.
A few seconds later, she sat up abruptly, looked at the coffee table, and picked up the photo frame on it.
Lin Yan was in the photo.
Her memory was severely fragmented, her mind muddled—it seemed like just a second ago Lin Yan had pushed her out the door, and the next second she was back home.
Huamei Middle School.
She had to go back and find him.
Xu Zhiyi grabbed her phone and was about to run out, but no matter how many times she tapped the screen, it wouldn't light up. Panic made her reckless, and by the time she reached the hallway, she finally remembered—the phone was still off, its battery dead.
"…"
She felt both anxious and angry at herself for not being prepared. She ran back to the living room, plugged in her phone to charge, then pattered back to the bedroom to grab her laptop, frantically starting to search for "Huamei Middle School."
It wasn't until she pressed the Enter key that she remembered—that place was actually an after-school care center.
People always get flustered when they're anxious. Fortunately, the search engine intelligently corrected her search terms.
The official name of this establishment was Huamei Small Table.
Just as Xu Zhiyi had guessed, Huamei Small Table was located in a residential building, run by an English teacher in her fifties named Hua Mei.
As she approached retirement, she had suffered some aftereffects from a car accident that left her with a limp, making it inconvenient to continue teaching at school. She stayed home to recuperate.
But she still loved teaching.
Hua Mei's husband had passed away early. When her daughter saw her sitting alone at home in loneliness, she soon took the initiative to help her set up the Huamei Small Table in the back.
The children who came to eat were all middle school kids from the neighborhood. Their parents were generally too busy with work to make it home for meals.
Taking this opportunity, Hua Mei could continue teaching.
The small table was primarily for meals, of course, but she would also provide free tutoring on their English homework. She was warm and encouraging toward those middle schoolers, always finding something good in each of them to praise.
This earned her a fine reputation throughout the neighborhood.
The most talked-about story was how she talked a boy out of joining a street gang, dragging him back from squatting on the street corner to sit at his desk.
It was a happy ending for all, but there was always someone lurking in the shadows.
The boy who had led He Xiaoman into the gang was a ninth-grader who relied on the pocket money He Xiaoman paid him to have fun. When Hua Mei did this, his resentment grew day by day.
Hua Mei had also tried to persuade him. But when she took him into the small table, she discovered that it actually made it easier for him to extort money from the younger kids.
Hua Mei drove him out of the small table with her cane.
The resentful boy grew even more dissatisfied, but a few days later, he showed up at her door with the money he had stolen before, appearing in the kitchen with a grin, saying he wanted to make amends by helping Teacher Hua Mei with the cooking.
Teacher Hua Mei didn't trust him and politely asked him to leave.
But she could never have imagined that he had already slipped sleeping pills into the soup.
After the last child came in, Hua Mei cautiously locked the door from the inside, to keep him from coming back to harass the younger students.
The children at the small table were hardly picky eaters, and for the occasional ones with allergies, Hua Mei was careful to remember. So that pot of soup was finished clean by everyone, and the bowls and dishes piled up high in stacks by the sink.
Hua Mei remembered she needed to put the dishes in the dishwasher, but that night, due to the effects of the sleeping pills, she grew very drowsy and soon collapsed into her chair.
Before long, the entire small table fell into a deep sleep.
Hua Mei, who had been dozing with her head tilted to one side, suddenly jolted awake.
Before her eyes was a sea of fire.
Before she was choked into unconsciousness, she limped desperately, slapping at the sleeping students around her.
Perhaps because the sleeping pills had been diluted when mixed into the soup pot, a few students actually did wake up one after another. They supported her, trying to carry her out with them.
But the fire was too big.
The door handle had become so hot that even a single touch would burn your hand.
Hua Mei gradually lost consciousness from exhaustion and fainted.
When she woke up, those young, vibrant lives had been reduced to a concise summary in the news: A minor surnamed Cai maliciously set fire, resulting in seven deaths and four people with varying degrees of burns and fractures.
According to others, she was found collapsed in the stairwell, with several unconscious students lying behind her.
Those names became the nightmare of Hua Mei's remaining years.
After being discharged from the hospital, Hua Mei's daughter moved her into a nursing home, and that apartment became one of the most infamous haunted houses around. It was said that when passing through the stairwell, one could often hear the sound of students scratching at doors, and the thud of someone jumping from a window in a desperate search for escape.
It was already an old neighborhood to begin with. After the residents moved away, finding the place too inauspicious, few people remained in the building. The entire structure was implicated by the incident, and it became nearly impossible to rent out.
Hua Mei soon developed dementia as well. In the nursing home, she would always stare blankly out the window.
She escaped from the nursing home several times, and each time she was found, she was wandering around the base of that haunted building. This further deepened people's belief in the house's sinister reputation—it must be trying to lure Hua Mei's soul away, to make her die there too.
The last time she was spotted there, somehow, she had torn off the seal on the door, found the key, and opened it.
She stood before the table that had been burned down to just half of its original form, devoutly praying to Buddha before a purple incense burner she had brought from who knows where, muttering something about "come back, come back."
They all said she had fallen under a spell.
After that.
The rumors about the haunted house grew increasingly intense.
Many streamers treated it as a trendy supernatural tale in the city, venturing out in the dead of night to explore, listening for those terrifying sounds passersby had described.
What they most wanted to encounter was the old teacher who, according to legend, would appear in the apartment every midnight, worshipping before the incense burner.
Since it was somewhat of a popular spot, it was quite convenient for Xu Zhiyi to copy down the address.
She noted it down, tucked it into her pocket, and anxiously watched her phone's pitiful battery level.
Only eight percent!
Xu Zhiyi didn't find the place frightening.
She had heard about how Hua Mei had limped her way through rescuing those students from the fire, regardless of whether they were "good kids" or "bad kids," and so she knew that Hua Mei was actually a very gentle person.
The Hua Mei who seemed possessed, whose soul was being lured away, was perhaps simply praying for those children to come back.
In the days and nights of pain and regret, she might have thought that if Huamei Education had been a real middle school with enough space, they wouldn't have choked to death on the thick smoke.
Perhaps the incense burner answered her hopes.
It sent her the first batch of students—perfect, flawless students beautified by her memories, without any blemish, with innocent, clear smiles always on their lips.
Students who were too perfect were, of course, fake.
So the incense burner sent a second batch—humans who were more like the students when they were alive. They threw tantrums, made mistakes on problems, hated faces that resembled their own, and bore the scars left by the fire.
But just like the bad-tempered version of Lin Yan, even with the same memories, they were merely very similar to real people.
They would never come back.
And Teacher Hua Mei couldn't accept that fact.
So she trapped them in that fabricated school, unable to stop their hatred for one another, only able to step in and scold her students when arguments broke out.
That fire was the nightmare of her lifetime, so she replayed it over and over, saving them each time.
And so, day and night, she kept them locked there.
Trapping herself there as well.
While waiting for her phone to charge, Xu Zhiyi checked her bank balance. Staring at the five-figure sum, she made a bold decision.
Lin Yan would definitely come back—there was no reason for it, but she clung to that stubborn conviction.
And if he hadn't returned yet, perhaps it was because, after becoming a ghost, his range of movement was limited, and he was trapped inside the Huamei Small Dining Table.
Appearing in the form of an Earthbound Spirit, he would become part of the city's urban legends.
Then so be it—she would rent that place out and live there with him.
Since it was a haunted house, the price was surely very attractive, and it was an old residential complex, so even if she paid annually, she could definitely afford the rent.
If he wasn't there, then she would pray that the place really did have ghosts—whether benevolent or malevolent, as long as something existed, she had hope of finding out where Lin Yan had gone.
Xu Zhiyi's only worry was the adventure streamers. Who knew whether the crosses and black dog blood they carried for shock value would actually cause real harm to Lin Yan.
Just imagining it filled her with terror, and she immediately decided not to wait until her phone reached a healthy green charge—at fifteen percent, she would leave directly.
After hailing a cab, she could find a 24-hour convenience store on the way and borrow a power bank.
Her brother wouldn't wait for anyone.
Anxiously, she kept pressing the screen to check the battery level, wishing she could transmit the current herself in place of that charging cable.
Didn't the ads say five minutes could fill half a charge?
False advertising! Shameless merchants!
Xu Zhiyi was so anxious and flustered that she unconsciously raised her hand and bit down on her knuckle.
By the time she realized it, a deep ring of teeth marks had already been left on her fingertip.
If her brother saw that, he would definitely scold her.
"Why are you biting your fingers?"
Xu Zhiyi froze. Yes, that tone—that was exactly how her brother would speak.
Her wrist was grasped.
Icy fingertips brushed from the side of her wrist onto her palm, sliding along her fingers to interlace with hers. Warm and cold skin touched intimately in an instant, as if they had never been separable.
Xu Zhiyi slowly turned her head in disbelief.
Half-bent over, standing beside the sofa, Lin Yan leaned down, holding her hand, gently stroking the finger she had bitten. His eyes drooped with tender affection, and the curve of his lips carried the gentleness she knew so well.
"B-Brother?" Her vision swam, so dazed she felt she must be dreaming.
Lin Yan sat down on the sofa and gave her a light tug.
At nearly sprinting speed, Xu Zhiyi knelt on his lap and grabbed hold of his collar, which was steeped in the chill of the night.
There was a thin, long scar on his neck.
Xu Zhiyi's alert spine relaxed. Through tear-blurred eyes, she turned into a boneless little sister, collapsing safely into her brother's arms.
Lin Yan patted her back, soothing her, whispering apologies.
Sorry for how terribly he had treated her back at Huamei Middle School.
"…It's okay, I know you're doing this for my own good," Xu Zhiyi said softly, her voice tinged with tears. Besides, he'd barely kept up his cold demeanor for a few sentences before he started coaxing her again.
Her soft cheek nestled in the hollow of Lin Yan's neck, sitting on her brother's lap, pressed tightly against him. Their position had finally become the romantic princess-carry pose Xu Zhiyi had imagined.
"Brother, how did you get in?" She traced the scar on his neck with her fingers, "I didn't hear you open the door at all. If you hadn't spoken just now, I might have already gone out to look for you."
Lin Yan smiled faintly. "Better not to know, Zhizhi. It would scare you."
The way he said it only made Xu Zhiyi more determined to find out.
It wasn't until she swore repeatedly that she would never feel any fear toward her brother that Lin Yan slowly began to speak.
Just now, standing outside the door, his body had melted into a swamp-like liquid, seeping through the crack under the door, then slowly, bit by bit, reassembling itself.
Xu Zhiyi listened with an unusually grave expression.
She first felt Lin Yan's chest and arms, confirming they were solid and firm again, before speaking seriously: "Brother, you can transform however you like when entering our own home, but when you visit other people's houses later, don't ever use this method."
You might get swept away by accident!
"…"
Xu Zhiyi's thoughtful and warm words didn't earn Lin Yan's gratitude. Instead, he pinched her cheeks, squeezing them lightly.
How disheartening for a kind-hearted sister!
She cast a resentful gaze at him in silent accusation, but Lin Yan covered her eyes with his palm, leaving her nose to catch only his scent.
Unlike his usual spring-breeze-like fragrance, he now smelled cold, with a faint bitter note she had no memory of storing away. All of this made her feel a sense of unfamiliarity.
"Lin Yan, you need to stay by my side more from now on." Her warm breath drifted across his skin as she spoke, a gesture of attachment that only a small animal would show. "I haven't gotten used to your current scent yet."
Calling her brother by his full name was quickly met with punishment.
Lin Yan covered both her eyes and mouth, ordering her to shut down forcibly.
"…What are you doing!"
"Someone here hasn't slept for nearly a dozen hours." Lin Yan picked her up. "If she can still remember that she needs to rush back to school tonight for tomorrow morning's campus check-in, she should behave herself now."
"…………"
Truly worthy of a veteran who'd cleared multiple Instances. Some people were thoroughly convinced—having just come out of an Instance, this man could still smoothly recall the real-world obligations that needed handling.
Perhaps it was this very behavior that gave her back the sense of safety she needed to escape her predicament.
Even though she wanted to talk with Lin Yan a little longer, the exhaustion of searching for him all day, combined with the fatigue of five hours inside the Instance, finally caught up with her seemingly energetic body.
She let the drowsiness wash over her completely.
Lin Yan gently brushed the hair from her forehead.
Not long ago, he had kissed her right there at the entrance of Huamei Middle School, feeling the warmth of her forehead.
Back then, he thought he would never see her again.
Now she was back in his arms, eyes closed, dark lashes still clinging to undried tears, looking fragile and beautiful. Her head rested askew against his chest, her hand still clutching tightly at his clothes, as if afraid he might leave.
How could she trust him so easily… What if he wasn't the real Lin Yan?
Neither man nor ghost, he himself couldn't even be certain whether he was still Lin Yan, yet she so easily decided to start trusting him.
Silly little sister.
A sister too easily deceived.
His sister.
Inheriting the same trait as Xu Zhiyi, Lin Yan also possessed the ability of selective amnesia—just like now, he had completely forgotten what he'd said earlier about cultivating her ability to clear levels on her own.
The words "let his sister be independent" were, just like four years ago, crossed out from his plans once again.
It didn't matter.
Being timid and easily fooled—these were hardly anything significant.
He would always be by her side.
Lin Yan picked up Xu Zhiyi, pushed open her bedroom door, and with practiced ease lifted the blanket, set her down, then coaxed her in a low voice to take off her padded jacket.
She looked too exhausted, unable to manage changing into pajamas. If she didn't sleep soon, morning would arrive.
Just treat it as an afternoon nap.
He tucked the blanket around her, then turned to leave.
"Brother…" Xu Zhiyi, half-asleep on the bed, let out a faint voice, as soft as a mosquito's hum. "Where are you going…"
Lin Yan sat down by her bedside.
He felt no drowsiness, and he knew deep down that he would never feel drowsy again. When he had become a Specter, wandering through Huamei Middle School, he no longer needed sleep. Back in the real world, he was still that kind of Aberration.
Xu Zhiyi's warm head nuzzled against his leg, her hand resting in his palm, stubbornly refusing to let him leave.
Lin Yan looked down at her.
But she hadn't been asleep for long before the little tyrant woke up again.
The moment she opened her eyes, she began confirming Lin Yan's position. Finding him still sitting by the bed, a smile that was superficially apologetic but actually full of satisfaction spread across her face. She scooted back half a spot and generously invited him to come up and sleep together.
They had only napped together during their elementary school years; afterward, they rarely shared a bed, except on thunderstorm nights, when she would carry her pillow and blanket to his room and forcefully squeeze onto his bed.
But even though tonight was clear weather, Xu Zhiyi believed Lin Yan would definitely agree.
Because her brother needed a sense of security too.
Sure enough, Lin Yan was silent for a moment, then finally lifted the blanket and lay down on his side.
He had barely settled in when Xu Zhiyi wriggled her head over to press against his shoulder, her hand grabbing his fingers, before closing her eyes in contentment.
Within the cramped barrier of the blanket's space.
Her body heat was almost enough to burn him.