Chapter 4 – The Fake Reporter

“Heavens, what kind of miraculous space is this?!”
Jiang Yan couldn’t help exclaiming, her gaze shifting toward the white area.

She was currently standing at its edge. After taking just two steps inside, she quickly noticed the difference from the black soil zone:
Here there was no wind, and the temperature was neither hot nor cold—just perfectly comfortable.

And not far away, at the side of the gray area, she spotted a faintly visible, semi-transparent vortex. Air currents swirled and twisted around it.

At first glance, it looked exactly like a black hole straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Next to the black hole floated a translucent “0%.”

With her vast experience reading web novels, Jiang Yan immediately began to guess its meaning.

Instead of overthinking, she decided to test things out.

First—she needed to confirm how to enter and exit the space.

She willed a thought: Exit!
Instantly, her whole body flashed out of the space and reappeared in the study.

Another thought: Enter!
And she was back in the space in the blink of an eye.

The operation was smooth as silk.

“Collect!”

She tried gathering her surroundings: the computer, the desk, the bookshelf.

Sure enough, the items vanished from the study and automatically appeared in the gray zone of the space.

The number still displayed 0%. So that must represent storage usage.

Another thought, and the laptop from the gray zone appeared back in her hand.

After a series of tests, Jiang Yan summarized a few key points:

1. To store an item, it must be in contact with her body. But if a pile of items was connected, touching just one would bring in the whole stack.
2. Unless she specified placement with her will, everything would be automatically categorized in the gray zone.
3. Items stored in the gray zone could be auto-compressed and folded. The area looked only one-third the size of a soccer field, but its real capacity far exceeded her imagination.

In other words—she could shop endlessly without ever worrying about space!

As for the black soil—surely it was meant for planting?

She remembered that when she traveled abroad for over half a month, the garden grass and plants with an automatic sprinkler system survived just fine. But the rosepot in her living room, without water, had long withered.

She went to the tool room, grabbed a small trowel, and placed the wilted rose into the space.

Then she fetched a box of vanilla ice cream from the fridge and poured herself a cup of hot water before entering again.

She left the ice cream and hot water in the gray zone, then carried the rosepot into the black soil area.

She dug a small hole, planted the rose—and immediately, as if it had been given an IV drip of nutrients, the yellow, lifeless leaves regained a faint green glow, even sprouting tender buds.

The growth was miraculous!

So the black soil could indeed be used for farming.

That meant that in the resource-scarce apocalypse, she could enjoy fresh flowers, fruits, and vegetables at will!

Seeds were now a must on her stockpiling list.

And not just seeds—she needed saplings of fruit trees and vegetables as well.

Ten minutes later, the gray zone test results came in.

The ice cream and hot water remained exactly the same—temperature and state unchanged!

So time inside the space was frozen.

Looking at it as a whole, the black, white, and gray areas clearly corresponded to Planting, Living, and Storage functions.

Perfect. With thirty billion in her account, and an unlimited space to store goods—what was she waiting for?!

Jiang Yan was practically trembling with excitement. She felt the sudden urge to run out right away and start a wild buying spree.

Just then—

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rang again.

She had just ordered a hundred cases of bottled water online, but was forced to exit the space.

She checked the surveillance feed: a curly-haired man in a “reporter” vest, camera hanging from his chest, stood at the gate.

In his hands—an enormous bouquet of white chrysanthemums.

His intentions couldn’t have been more obvious.

Jiang Yan had no desire to deal with him. Instead, she picked up her phone and dialed the property management desk.

Her neighborhood was high-end, with excellent security and strong privacy. Villas were spaced far apart, and strangers were almost never let in without escort.

So how did this man get inside today—with no guard accompanying him?

Ding-dong!
Ding-dong!

The man rang twice more when no one answered.

“Miss Jiang, I’m your new neighbor! Just moved in yesterday—I know you’re inside!”

He then tilted his face toward the camera above the gate, his eyes flashing with malice, and shouted:

“Miss Jiang, I’m a reporter! If you don’t come out, I’ll post pictures of all those takeout meals you just ordered online! Think about it—your mother just died, and yet you can still eat so much takeout. What will the people of Anming City think of you then? And if I recall correctly, you’re a big influencer with millions of fans, aren’t you?”

Hearing his vile words, Jiang Yan frowned slightly.

This man…

So brazen!

Not only feeding off the dead—but threatening her on top of it!

His shamelessness screamed repeat offender.

In her past life, she might have caved—paid him off with a huge sum just to avoid trouble.

But now? Heh.

He dared to provoke her? His bad luck.

Originally, she had pulled up the property office number. But after hearing him, she switched and dialed 110.

Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
The curly-haired man kept hammering the bell.

“Miss J—” He hadn’t even finished the word when—

Creak! The door opened.

A tall girl in black sportswear, black hat, and a mask appeared. Her entire figure radiated youthful energy.

Her almond-shaped eyes, usually bright, now carried a thin veil of coldness.

“Miss Jiang! I knew you were home, haha…”

The curly-haired man’s eyes lit up like he had struck gold. Putting on a fake smile, he thrust the chrysanthemums toward her.
“Miss Jiang, my condolences.”

“State your business.” Jiang Yan’s cold gaze swept over him. She didn’t lift a finger.

The man laughed awkwardly and pulled the bouquet back.
“Here’s the thing, Miss Jiang. I’m a reporter with Anming News 3+3. I heard you returned to the country today, so I wanted to interview you. Since it’s not easy to meet you, I even rented the house next door. I also heard about your mother’s passing—”

He was halfway through his speech when Jiang Yan’s icy voice cut him off:
“Please show me your press ID.”

The man had prepared for this. He set the chrysanthemums on the ground and pulled out a red-covered credential from his pocket.

But before he could open it—Jiang Yan snatched it right out of his hand.