After clicking the link, Su You entered the backend of the website and saw the overall framework.

The quiet, pitch-black page had a huge blood-red countdown in the very center, looking ominous and foreboding.

At the center was a 3D graphic designed to look like a beating heart. With every tick of the countdown clock above the interface, the heart seemed to be gripped hard by an invisible hand, and a Damocles sword hung over the viewer’s head, as if it would drop down at any moment.

Scrolling down revealed a white forum area with sections for casual chatting and apocalypse rescue discussions.

The layout and functions were all complete—clearly, Amber understood her ideas well.

Following the steps, Su You set the doomsday countdown, wrote up an introduction to the disasters of the next three years, and also posted the very first thread in the apocalypse rescue section—an announcement about available spots to live in the base.

After finishing, Su You messaged Amber:
“Not bad!”

And followed it with a money transfer.

Amber had worked on the site for three days, staying up late into the night without sleep. She quickly replied:
“Wow, Sister You, so fast!”

She was momentarily stunned after seeing the transfer, then opened it and realized the amount wasn’t small.

Amber quickly put two and two together and cautiously asked:
“Sister You, did you strike it rich?”

Normally, Su You was stingy—couldn’t even fund events, and Amber usually worked hard for free.

Su You just gave a simple reply:
“Mm.”

Holy crap! That meant it was true.

Amber got excited and typed furiously:
“Sister You, you got rich? Won the lottery or inherited some long-lost relative’s fortune?”

Su You:
“Neither. Take the money and buy some long-lasting supplies. I’ll explain in detail when I see you.”

Reading that, Amber nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Holy crap, Sister You, you’re even coming abroad to stream? That’s way too much effort. How much commission is the gaming company paying you to make it worth this kind of dedication?”

“Wait—that doesn’t add up. Tomorrow’s a workday. Since when do you give up full attendance pay?”

Su You was a little speechless. Was she really that stingy usually? In Amber’s eyes, she seemed like someone who would never lift a finger without profit.

Su You:
“My main job laid me off. The side hustle is now my main job.”

Amber gloated:
“Hahahahahahahaha, no wonder, that explains everything.”

Su You:
“…Nothing good ever comes out of your mouth.”

Amber:
“Okay, okay, business first. When are you coming? I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

Su You:
“Morning flight the day after tomorrow. I still have something to take care of tomorrow.”

Amber:
“Got it, I’ll be waiting.”

Su You:
“The site’s operations and server fees will be covered by me. I’ll also give you another payment later. Just keep an eye on it for now. Oh, and remember—this stays secret.”

Amber:
“No problem, Sister You, I get it. Don’t worry, whether it’s streaming or anything else, I won’t breathe a word.”

Su You:
“Mm.”

The conversation ended. Amber seemed to have believed everything and was enthusiastically preparing for the so-called “collab project,” unknowingly helping to push forward Su You’s actual plan.

Su You’s gaze returned to the apocalyptic website on her desktop.

The giant, throbbing, blood-red heart.

Doomsday Countdown: 26 days, 22 hours, 19 minutes, 55 seconds.

In the dim late-night glow, it looked particularly piercing.

Her heart sank, all drowsiness gone. She closed the site and opened her desktop notepad, ready to sort out her memories of past-life disasters, as well as key information and factions.

Just then, her phone buzzed again.

Her eyes flicked to the pop-up, messages refreshing like crazy—

“Yoyou, are you still mad at me? Why aren’t you replying?”

“Trust me, there’s nothing between me and Zhong Xiaoxiao. She’s just a junior I’m mentoring. We’re in the same research group, so we eat together and attend gatherings more often than others, that’s all. Besides, Xiaoxiao herself said she has a boyfriend. I only see her as a little sister. I absolutely have no feelings for her.”

“We’ve known each other since junior high. We’ve been together almost three years. Don’t you know what kind of person I am by now? I’m just softhearted, not someone who flirts around outside.”

“Yoyou, let’s meet. I’m downstairs at your place. It’s late, it’s cold—do you really want me to stay out here all night?”

After that, there were no more messages.

He seemed to be waiting for her reply.

Seeing his name, Su You sneered.

Hou Rui.

Her boyfriend.

When Su You graduated college, she was in a period of confusion. Hou Rui, who had been accepted into graduate school, was attentive and caring during a break, and Su You gave in—they started dating.

But later she learned that Hou Rui, relying on his fair looks and decent appearance, kept several ambiguous relationships going on WeChat with multiple girls—including his junior in the same group.

The only reason he pursued her was because she once mentioned her side income, and he wanted her as just another fish in his pond.

In her past life, when the torrential rains came, she actually worried about him for a while—only to realize later that she was overthinking.

Hou Rui had already latched onto a rich woman’s thigh and moved into a luxurious villa in the mountain valley.

When communications still worked, all her messages to him had vanished into silence.

She only found out the truth when she went to Sister Min’s house in the valley to borrow supplies.

Thinking about it now, Su You felt nothing but disgust at his words.

How blind had she been in her last life, agreeing to be with someone like him?

She had no intention of replying to Hou Rui’s messages.

Wait outside all night? Then let him.

Just another act of self-pity—she wasn’t falling for it.

—

Hou Rui tightened his jacket and paced at the entrance with a gift in hand.

Nearly twenty minutes passed. He kept pulling out his phone to check, but Su You still hadn’t replied.

Opening the app, he saw she hadn’t updated any videos for days, nor streamed tonight.

He grew suspicious. Strange… what was going on?

Normally, Su You stayed up at this time editing videos, sometimes even gaming and streaming late into the weekend nights.

She should have seen his messages. Right?

Hou Rui started to doubt.

The temperature outside was dropping fast, down to 13 degrees.

To play the victim, he had purposely worn only a thin jacket, completely useless against the biting autumn chill.

He hesitated. Maybe Su You wasn’t home? Should he just go back to his dorm?

Just then, a small electric scooter stopped at the entrance.

It was Sister Meng, returning from a night shift, who spotted him.

“Hey, isn’t this Xiao Hou? What are you doing here so late?”

Usually on weekends, Hou Rui often came to see Su You. Living across the hall, Sister Meng knew this sweet-talking young man.

Hou Rui’s eyes lit up as if he’d found a savior. He quickly said:
“Sister Meng, it’s me, Xiao Hou. Su You and I had a little disagreement, so I came to make up. But she hasn’t replied to my messages or answered my calls. Do you know what’s going on?”