“Ah…”

Jiang Ning abruptly sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, her eyes filled with confusion and despair.

The chaos in her mind was shaken by the sight in front of her. Was this the apartment she had lived in before the apocalypse?

Ding-dong, ding-dong…

Text alerts chimed one after another. She grabbed the phone on her nightstand. September 14, 2029, 9:32 a.m.

Over a dozen unread messages—all warnings about a super typhoon named “Cleaver,” predicted to make landfall along the coast on the morning of the 17th. Wind speeds were expected to reach levels 16–19, accompanied by several days of torrential rain.

Jiang Ning was stunned. Hadn’t she died? Died in the dark, cannibalistic apocalypse?

Was this some sort of nightmare triggered by her unwillingness to die?

Ding-dong.

Another emergency alert appeared. The latest timestamp: 9:37 a.m.

She pinched her arm hard. The sharp pain confirmed it—this wasn’t a dream. She had truly been reborn.

Reborn to three days before the super typhoon that marked the beginning of the apocalypse.

No—more accurately, only two and a half days left.

But Jiang Ning didn’t feel joy—only overwhelming exhaustion.

Typhoons, floods, extreme heat and cold, earthquakes… each disaster was a level of hell. What was the point of doing it all over again?

But now that she was back, was she supposed to just sit and wait for death? No—absolutely not!

She splashed cold water on her face. In the mirror, she saw a young and beautiful version of herself, face full of collagen, untouched by the desperate struggle of the apocalypse. Everything seemed so perfect.

Her weary gaze fell on the jade pendant hanging around her neck. She had been wearing it ever since she was abandoned at the hospital as a baby. Later, Yang Weicong had asked for it to give to the campus belle Su Mengyao.

In the three years of the apocalypse, Su Mengyao had always appeared immaculate—elegant and refined, her clothes spotless, her skin glowing. It was as if she still lived in a world of beauty and prosperity.

Jiang Ning once fainted from hunger, only to see Su Mengyao licking an ice cream pulled from that pendant.

A sudden thought struck her. Jiang Ning picked up a razor blade, cut her finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the pendant.

A brilliant light flared from the jade. When she opened her eyes again, she was inside an apartment with no front door. It had electricity and water but no furniture—an 80-square-meter unit with two bedrooms and a living room, about 3 meters tall. A small 10-square-meter black-soil garden was attached to the balcony.

A floating timer hung in the living room: 01:56:13.

This was the space that had allowed Su Mengyao to live so luxuriously? The space Su Mengyao had tricked her into giving up?

After exiting the space, Jiang Ning found that a blueprint of the house now existed in her mind. As long as she focused, she could sense everything within.

To test the space’s functions, she used boiling water. Other than the balcony and the garden, the entire space had a preservation effect.

She could store and retrieve things with her mind. The timer would pause unless someone entered the space—then it would start counting down automatically.

Time was short; she had no time to explore the mystery behind it.

Reborn with this spatial treasure, she was determined to rewrite her tragic fate.

In her previous life, she had only survived long enough to identify the types of natural disasters.

When she saw the complete list, she nearly passed out on the spot.

Living was too hard.

Shoving her emotions aside, she grabbed a pen and paper to draft a supply list.

Jiang Ning grew up in an orphanage. Although it appeared peaceful on the surface, the behind-the-scenes fights were intense. It had shaped her into someone selfish and unwilling to suffer losses.

Lacking any sense of security since birth, she collected scrap in elementary school, worked part-time in middle school—tutoring, cleaning toilets—anything for money.

She consistently ranked at the top of her class. Even in her sophomore year as a medical student, she was still tutoring five high school seniors, charging 200 yuan per session.

She was a money hound—running sales, selling insurance, managing a YouTube-like channel. As long as it wasn’t illegal, she’d do it. Over the years, she had saved up 200,000 yuan, hoping to use it as a down payment on a house after graduation.

Now, all of that was meaningless.

She had classes in the afternoon and tutoring sessions at night, but none of that mattered anymore.

She messaged the parents, claiming she was hospitalized and couldn’t tutor for a while. She hoped they’d find a substitute and settle the fees.

Tutoring fees were paid bi-weekly. The parents were all well-off; two even sent her 500-yuan red envelopes as get-well money. She received a total of 6,000 yuan.

Jiang Ning didn’t forget to warn them about the incoming super typhoon and advised stocking up on food and medicine.

Natural disasters would come one after another. Her medication list alone filled three full pages—many medicines were expensive or unavailable at pharmacies.

She snapped a photo and sent it to Zhang Chao, a pharmaceutical rep and childhood friend:
“Rich new client. Needs this tonight. Give me a broken-bones discount.”

He replied instantly:
“Got it.”

Five minutes later, he called.
“A-Ning, this list is too weird. You sure this isn’t a joke?”

“I already sent the money. They only have one condition—deliver tonight.”

No time for chit-chat. She hung up and transferred 50,000 yuan.
“Add or subtract as needed.”

There was too much to prepare. She grabbed her keys to leave, then spotted a limited edition pair of Air Jordans on the table and almost wanted to bash her head into a wall.

She was always practical, but Yang Weicong had been like a curse.

To chase him, she moved out of the dorm and rented a pricey apartment in a good school district. She even queued at dawn to buy him those Air Jordans.

Her own shoes never cost over 300 yuan, but she had spent over 8,000 yuan on those limited editions for him—and didn’t feel bad at all. And what happened?

He took the gift and asked for the pendant. When she confessed her feelings, he neither accepted nor rejected her. Later, during the typhoon, he took Su Mengyao and ate all her stockpiled food.

Throughout the three years of catastrophe, he never helped her once. When she was beaten and tortured by demons, he watched coldly.

If she’d known then, she would’ve fed those shoes to the dogs instead of giving them to him.

This time, she wanted to see—without her supplies or spatial storage, would he and Su Mengyao still live their pretty little lives?

The super typhoon lasted half a month, followed by three months of non-stop torrential rain. The entire city was submerged.

Jiang Ning lived on the 18th floor. Though not flooded, she had still lived in misery.

…

After leaving the complex, she had breakfast at a street-side shop.

Then she rushed to a car rental shop and rented a box truck. Her first stop: the Air Jordan store.

The clerk was shocked she wanted to return such a limited edition. Customers were lining up to buy them—it wasn’t something they had trouble selling.

She got back 8,600 yuan—enough to buy rice, flour, and oil to last two to three years. Who needed a man?

She drove to a street full of door and window vendors and ordered two of the thickest stainless steel doors, each with triple locks that could withstand a sledgehammer. Installation included, it cost over 6,000 yuan.

To save time, she had taken measurements before leaving home.

The vendor was worried the measurements might be off, but after hearing which complex and unit she lived in, he relaxed. He’d done a lot of work in that area.

“If it’s urgent, we can install the day after tomorrow.”

Across the street was a glass shop. Jiang Ning chose the thickest explosion-proof glass at 600 yuan per square meter, also scheduled for installation the day after tomorrow.

Let them knock. Let them smash. This time, no one was going to break in and bully her ever again.