Eleven hours remained before the end of the world.
It was 5:00 p.m. local time.
At Xichi University, the College of Agriculture’s Agricultural Research Society had just wrapped up its afternoon promotional drive for the autumn planting event. As evening fell, the members invited Fang Yangyang to join them for dinner at the newly opened canteen, which was rumored to have several delicious new food stalls.
Fang Yangyang had no appetite for dinner right now. Politely declining their invitation, she hurried back to her single dorm room, packed everything she thought might be useful into her backpack, and left.
Most of the society’s members were agriculture majors, though a few from other fields had joined out of personal interest. Fang Yangyang was one of the latter.
The original Fang Yangyang had been a foreign languages major. During the freshman club recruitment fair, a friend jokingly handed her an application form, and she had ended up joining on a whim.
The novel said very little about Fang Yangyang, detailing only the manner of her death while leaving out any mention of her social circle or popularity.
Even so, she gathered that the original Fang Yangyang must have been a fairly well-liked sophomore. In the few hours since she had transmigrated, numerous club members had warmly called her “Yangyang” and invited her out to eat.
Leaving the dormitory, Fang Yangyang had no idea where else to go. After hesitating for a while, she decided to spend the night in the cafeteria.
The Xichi University cafeteria stayed open twenty-four hours a day, offering midnight snacks to exhausted students and faculty who were coming off late shifts or pulling all-nighters to study for graduate entrance exams.
Along the first-floor corridor, sinks and grooming mirrors were available for washing dishes and tidying up.
Fang Yangyang stared at the girl in the mirror, lost in thought. A while later, she cupped some water in her hands, washed her face, and dried the droplets with a paper towel, a faint frown creasing her brow as she pondered her situation.
The cannon fodder female supporting character, “Fang Yangyang,” not only shared her name, but also had the exact same face as Fang Yangyang in real life.
During her months battling cancer, enduring chemotherapy and endless medication in the hospital, her appearance had long lost the healthy, vibrant look she saw before her now. She pressed her arm gently; the skin felt smooth and firm, completely free of the sluggish rebound of edema she had grown used to.
Closing her eyes, Fang Yangyang took a deep breath. Transported into a novel with a healthy body, she could not waste this rare second chance. She had to live well.
With that in mind, she returned to her seat where her backpack lay, pulled out her phone, and messaged her new boyfriend, Dou Qing.
***
“No way, seriously? You just stepped out for a bit and already landed a girlfriend?”
His roommate’s voice was full of disbelief.
“Dou Qing, you’re incredible. I honestly thought I’d be the first one in our dorm to get a girl.” Sun Yi poked his head down from the top bunk.
Still chasing after their department’s prettiest girl, Sun Yi was a local trust-fund kid, wealthy enough to go through three Cayennes in a single semester, and he often copied Dou Qing’s homework. He was smart enough, having earned his own spot at Xichi University, but he was inherently lazy.
As he often put it, with his family’s wealth, his grades would never change the fact that he was set to inherit a fortune, so there was no point in pushing himself too hard.
“So, who’s the lucky girl?” Sun Yi asked.
Dou Qing remained silent, sitting before his computer and tapping away at the keyboard.
Another roommate teased, “Back to work already, Dou Qing?”
Dou Qing gave a brief hum of acknowledgment.
“If you’re ever short on cash, just ask me,” Sun Yi offered. “Don’t be shy about it.”
He peered down from his bunk for a moment longer before pulling back, realizing he was getting nowhere.
“Thanks, but no need,” Dou Qing replied.
All of his roommates were better off than he was. An orphan raised in a welfare home, Dou Qing had worked part-time jobs ever since his freshman year at Xichi University.
Sun Yi had repeatedly offered him an internship at his parents’ company, promising at least twenty thousand a month if he ever needed money, but Dou Qing had politely declined.
Over the three years they had lived together, Dou Qing had made good money from those part-time jobs. His daily living expenses, laptop, and phone had all been paid for with money he earned himself. On top of that, he consistently ranked at the top of his major and won the National Scholarship every year.
His time management and discipline were truly admirable.
Ignoring the chatter around him, Dou Qing focused entirely on the document a friend had sent over. He skimmed through the pages, crunching the data and sending back real-time analyses.
It took him half an hour before he finally had a moment to check his phone.
When he did, he froze.
A message was on the screen:
[Fang Yangyang]: Dou Qing, I’m at the Jiangpu Canteen right now. Would you like to come down and have a meal with me?
A few minutes later.
He had not replied.
Fang Yangyang: Did you not see your phone? It’s fine. If you’re busy, don’t worry about it.
That last message had arrived ten minutes ago.
Dou Qing choked with panic. Hands trembling violently, he rushed to answer. He typed out, “I’m sorry, I was just…”
before deleting it character by character. A text popped up from a friend asking why he had taken on so many freelance jobs lately.
Dou Qing glanced at the screen, too distracted to deal with his friend right now. His entire focus was on replying to Fang Yangyang.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t checking my phone. I’m coming down to find you right now.”
Fang Yangyang’s reply took a moment: “Okay, no problem. I’m still at the cafeteria.”
She sent a photo of herself sitting at one of the tables. The fair-skinned girl had an unforgettable, delicate grace, with clear eyes and a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Stunned by her beauty in the picture, Dou Qing froze for a couple of seconds before texting back a simple “Okay.”
As he shut his laptop screen, he quickly typed an explanation to his friend that he had to step away, briefly addressing the question about his workload before leaving.
[I need to give my girlfriend a better life.]
Dou Qing hurried downstairs, glancing at the photo she had sent once more. Looking closer this time, he noticed a familiar figure in the background behind Fang Yangyang. His eyes narrowed, and as he recognized the person, his heart sank.
Yan Fengji?
He quickened his pace toward Jiangpu Canteen.
=
Ten hours before the apocalypse arrived.
Fang Yangyang pulled the original owner’s phone from her backpack. Both the screen lock and the bank card PIN were identical to her own. The eerie coincidence made her frown, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Xichi University was the safest location in the early stages of the apocalypse. With the male lead, the second male lead, and the third male lead all present, alongside the university’s top talents, the Huaguo military prioritized evacuating its survivors to a secure base once they learned that about sixty percent of the faculty and students had made it through.
In the original novel, the male lead first began demonstrating his leadership skills right here in Jiangpu Canteen.
The world had ended at four in the morning while the students were still asleep. When those with early classes woke up at six, the oppressive darkness blanketing the sky sent them screaming in terror.
Black clouds choked the horizon. Outside the dormitories, the greenery mutated wildly, branches lashing out and leaves swelling in size. Even the campus strays, previously neutered by the College of Agriculture’s animal science department, ballooned into monstrous beasts, drooling through razor-sharp fangs with bloodshot eyes.
The Jiangpu Canteen had become a temporary shelter for nearly a hundred teachers and students, including both the male lead and the second male lead.
As for the third male lead, Fang Yangyang recalled that the original apocalyptic novel briefly mentioned he was in a dining hall in another dormitory area. He had safely survived the initial stage there before eventually joining up with the other two leads.
Fang Yangyang had considered warning the others about the impending apocalypse, but she ultimately decided against it.
The characters in this novel, both major and minor, were intelligent. If she tried to warn them, few would believe her. Once the apocalypse actually hit, her foreknowledge would only make them suspicious.
There were ten hours left before disaster struck. At four o’clock tomorrow morning, while everyone was sound asleep, the apocalypse would arrive, changing the world forever.
Fang Yangyang went to the canteen’s convenience store to buy bread and bottled water, packing them tightly into her backpack: ten bottles of water and fifteen loaves of bread.
The bag she carried belonged to the original host, a heavy canvas backpack used for hiking. It was sturdy and spacious, perfect for long trips and rough travel. Styled in a girlish pastel blue with butterfly patterns and a plush doll pendant, it looked completely ordinary.
After finishing her conversation with Dou Qing, she returned her backpack to her seat in the canteen. A book was already resting on the table to save her spot, ensuring no one else would take it. At this hour, aside from those eating, only a scattered few were studying at the tables.
In a few more hours, the cafeteria would empty out even further.
Eventually, the only people left would be the late-shift cooks and the occasional student or professor dropping by for a midnight snack after finishing lab work.
Fang Yangyang’s palms were sweating. Anxious restlessness churned in her chest as she thought about what was going to happen in ten hours.
She walked over to the cafeteria sink to wash her hands again.
Just as she pulled out a paper towel to dry them, she heard someone call her name from behind.
“Fang Yangyang.”
His voice was deep and elegant, resonant as a cello. The young man walked toward her step by step, still wearing the same white shirt and black trousers she had seen him in a few hours earlier, a look that highlighted his striking good looks.
Fang Yangyang froze, instinctively taking several steps back.
Seeming displeased by her fearful reaction, he took a slow, faint breath. Cold and restrained, he closed the distance between them, pressing her back against the corridor wall.
Yan Fengji lowered his head, his gaze sweeping down from her thick, dark eyelashes to the delicate tip of her upturned nose, finally resting on her softly pressed lips.
“Are you in a relationship?” he asked.
Fang Yangyang felt completely lost. She had no idea the original host even knew Yan Fengji. Wait, did they actually know each other?
“Yes, I am,” she blurted out before she had time to overthink it.
Yan Fengji let out a cold sneer. “With Dou Qing?”
Frowning, Fang Yangyang lifted her chin and glared at him. “So what if I am? Do you have a problem with that?”
The handsome young man stared at her face for a long time. Gradually, his mocking expression faded, and even the cold detachment melted away. His hands twitched at his sides, his voice turning rough and strained.
“Why Dou Qing?”
A bitter, unmistakable sneer returned to his face. “I texted you today asking if you wanted milk tea, but you didn’t reply. And the next thing I know, you’re with Dou Qing.”
Fang Yangyang was struck speechless.