10. Don’t worry about escaping—I’ll cover the rear!

Yu Dongxi lowered her head and thought for a moment, then said, “So, Xiao Chu’s death has a lot to do with you.”

Song Yu let out a short laugh and didn’t deny it. “Maybe.”

“If you had a time machine, would you go back and change the decision you made back then?”

It was an interesting question. The word “if” was always interesting. You see, it doesn’t actually change anything, but people still love this kind of self-deceiving hypothetical.

“I don’t like those kinds of what-ifs. The more you imagine them, the more regret you feel, and the more useless you realize you are,” Song Yu said, gripping the steering wheel.

“Is this your emotional burden?” Yu Dongxi asked bluntly.

“Of course,” Song Yu answered without hesitation. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come all this way to work so hard.”

“Can I interpret it this way—that as long as the owner of the fantasy realm doesn’t realize they’re in a fantasy, everything’s fine?”

“In theory, yes.”

“Okay, I’ve been thinking: the reason they’re so insistent on pushing the plot to follow its original course—is it because they’re afraid the protagonist will realize they’re in a fantasy realm?” Yu Dongxi slowed her speech intentionally. “They’re afraid their behavior might make the protagonist suspicious. They don’t understand the protagonist, nor anyone else in this fantasy realm. But you’re different. You know most of the people in this place.”

Yu Dongxi leaned back into her seat and looked at Song Yu.

Song Yu looked a bit serious, lost in thought.

He turned to look at Yu Dongxi with a focused gaze. After a long moment, Song Yu suddenly pfft burst out laughing—his laughter growing louder and more unrestrained.

“Stop laughing,” Yu Dongxi said, feeling that communicating with Song Yu was starting to get tiring.

“Oh, okay—cough cough…” Song Yu looked at her and suddenly dropped the laid-back act. “Alright then, let’s see what this fantasy realm can do to the two of us.”

“Don’t be reckless,” said a voice suddenly—one Yu Dongxi hadn’t heard in a while. It was Brother System, speaking up unexpectedly, startling her. Bro, long time no see.

Brother System was Yu Dongxi’s personal partner—only she could hear what he said.

Song Yu’s eyes were covered, but somehow Yu Dongxi got the strong feeling that he was staring right at her, as if he knew exactly what she and Brother System had just talked about.

“Hey, are you afraid of dying?” Yu Dongxi suddenly asked.

“I’ve been dead a long time.”

“Not that kind of dead. I mean, if—and I’m just saying if—we both died in this fantasy realm, would you feel any regrets?”

Song Yu curved his lips into a smile. “To never die at all—that would be the real punishment. Besides, to die in such an interesting way? That’s a rare opportunity.”

“How interesting. Then I’ll accompany you to the very end.”

Brother System: “?”

He just wanted to retire in peace.

Forget it.

Let’s do this.

Silly girl.

Brother System let out a few bitter chuckles.

Yu Dongxi had always been someone who took action. Right now, what she had to do was team up with the guy beside her and put a stop to it.

Maybe—just maybe—they could change a young girl’s fate!

Just thinking about it made Yu Dongxi’s blood boil with excitement.

As a kid, she loved heroes like Ultraman. Even as a teenage girl, her inner sense of heroism still burned brightly!

But seriously—dude, could you at least move a little?

Yu Dongxi maintained a smile and looked at Song Yu.

Song Yu gave a wicked, charming smile, spread his hands, and said, “Well, what can I do? The car’s broken.”

Before Yu Dongxi could even begin to ask what was going on, the garage door suddenly slammed shut. The already dim garage instantly became pitch-black—so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.

“What’s… going on? Did this happen to you back then?” Yu Dongxi turned to Song Yu and asked.

Song Yu shook his head. “No, back then it was Ah Shu who came to the garage to deliver the car.”

“So what happened to him?”

Song Yu lowered his head, deep in thought, rhythmically tapping his knuckles on the steering wheel. After a while, he said, “Yeah, he got trapped in this garage too. When they found Ah Shu, he’d fainted from fright. He had a high fever for several days. When he finally woke up and everyone asked him what had happened that day, he couldn’t remember a thing.”

His voice echoed through the dark, silent garage. He spoke casually, but the listener took it to heart.

“I once heard the elders in my family say—don’t meddle in other people’s business. You’ll interfere in someone else’s karma. If you change someone’s cause, you have to bear their effect in return.”

“That makes sense. So what now, Xizi? Looks like we’re gonna have to die in Ah Shu’s place.”

Although Song Yu said he didn’t know what to do, his amused tone was downright infuriating—he didn’t sound the least bit scared.

“Well, can’t be helped. You can’t fight fate.”

Yu Dongxi said you couldn’t fight fate, but her body didn’t agree. The moment she realized the car doors were locked and wouldn’t open, she didn’t hesitate—grabbed the emergency hammer and smashed the window without a second thought. Her technique was swift and clean—anyone watching would’ve been impressed.

Song Yu raised an eyebrow, held out his hand for the hammer, then in one smooth motion, shattered the window on his side just as quickly.

“Xizi, this car is really expensive, you know,” Song Yu said, pretending to be reluctant as he weighed the hammer in his hand.

“We’ll split the cost 50-50. Didn’t you smash half of it too?”

A perfect 50-50 split.

Yu Dongxi flipped herself out of the car. The surroundings were so dim that it was hard to make out anything clearly—she could only vaguely see some outlines.

“Xizi, in a bit, I’ll find a way to get you out of here first.”

“What?” Yu Dongxi turned around, just about to ask Song Yu why he wanted to send her out first. But before she could speak, a sharp pain suddenly exploded in her head.

“Xizi… watch your step—”

Before Song Yu could finish his sentence, the next second, Yu Dongxi vanished into thin air.

Only a loud “What the hell?!” echoed through the air.

Song Yu rushed toward the spot where Yu Dongxi had just fallen. A large pit had appeared there.

He knelt down and listened carefully for any sounds below. But all he heard was silence—total silence.

Without hesitation, Song Yu jumped into the pit.

As soon as he landed, cries and screams echoed from all directions—but all he saw around him were walls.

Song Yu pressed his ear to the wall, trying to listen to the voices coming from beyond it. The next moment, a cold hand wrapped around his ankle. He immediately lifted his foot and looked down, locking eyes with the figure below. A shock jolted through him. Before he could react, that icy hand yanked him into an even deeper abyss.

Yu Dongxi had fallen completely. Although she was technically dead, maybe because she hadn’t been dead for long, her senses were still very sharp—for example, right now, her butt still hurt like hell.

This just proves again: safety is always a top priority. Damn it, a huge estate like this, so much money, and you can’t even bother with routine maintenance?

Yu Dongxi rubbed her butt—it wasn’t exactly a graceful sight.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Hey, anyone?!” Her voice echoed through the empty room, making the atmosphere even more eerie and desolate.

“That guy from next door—are you here?” Yu Dongxi tentatively called out for Song Yu, but no one responded.

At that moment, a wave of loneliness surged up in her chest. Actually, what should really be rising in her heart at a time like this is fear. People fear the unknown, and the unknown is often linked to death.

Now that Yu Dongxi was already dead, it seemed even the fear had died along with her physical body.

“Hey, are you still breathing? If you’re alive, say something.” Her voice echoed through the cold, creepy hall. Everything around her was pitch dark—she couldn’t even see her own hand. She looked up, but the ceiling above seemed completely sealed.

She clearly remembered—that’s where she fell from.

It was a hole that appeared out of nowhere.

And even with poor eyesight, she definitely wasn’t that blind—no way she would’ve missed such a huge pit.

Right?

Yu Dongxi began to doubt herself a little.

“I’m already over sixty this year. The end that my father always spoke of… I think I’m about to reach it.”

Suddenly, a beam of light appeared in front of Yu Dongxi. The beam cast a glowing circle of light that revealed a figure standing within it. It was a man in a blue suit, with his back facing her. His posture was straight, his hair completely white. If it weren’t for the words Yu Dongxi had just heard him say, she never would have guessed that the man in front of her was already so old.

The man in the blue suit let out a sigh. His voice was hoarse and rough:

“But I never fulfilled the ideals and ambitions of my youth… and now I’m entering the underworld like this. I can’t accept it…”

“I… I can’t accept this…”

The man’s aged, rasping voice echoed through the air as he walked forward. Gradually, his figure faded from Yu Dongxi’s sight.

“But that’s not what you said back then!”

Suddenly, a woman’s heart-wrenching scream rang out. Yu Dongxi jolted in fright—there was such sorrow and despair in that voice.

She squinted and looked closely. Only then did she realize that the crying, makeup-smeared woman was Xiao Chu.

She recognized her only because of the blue butterfly anklet she always wore.

Xiao Chu had collapsed on the floor in complete breakdown, her face bruised and swollen beyond recognition. One of her wrists was tied with a rope. The man standing in front of her looked equally devastated, with a glaring red handprint on his face and his suit rumpled and torn, as if he’d been repeatedly pushed around.

It was Song Daquan.

Song Daquan choked back sobs as he murmured, “Xiao Chu… I’m such a bastard… I did you wrong… I really am a bastard!”

Xiao Chu lifted her head. Her hair fell back, revealing her slender neck. Around her pale, snowy throat, there was also a red rope—tied so tightly it looked embedded in her flesh.

The next second, everything before Yu Dongxi’s eyes went dark again. Xiao Chu’s pale, tear-streaked face still lingered in her mind.

So… what exactly happened?

And what was this place now?

The scene shifted once more. A dazzling white light flared in front of her. In the midst of the haze and confusion, Yu Dongxi vaguely heard Song Yu’s voice whispering by her ear.

He said: “I’ll get you out of here first.”

When Yu Dongxi regained consciousness, she found herself back in the office that Qiu Sui had arranged for her. Everything around her looked exactly the same as when she had left.

She sprang up from the sofa in a sudden motion, barefoot, and pushed open the door. Outside, three people turned to look at her in surprise at the same time.

Luan Shaobo asked in shock, “Dongxi? When did you come back? How did you get in?”

Yu Dongxi didn’t have time to explain everything. She rushed toward Luan Shaobo and quickly asked, “How long has it been since I left?”

Luan Shaobo glanced at the clock and replied, “About half an hour. Why?”

Half an hour… So that meant, after entering the fantasy realm, either time had paused for her, or the flow of time in the two spaces wasn’t synchronized.

If the normal world moved at regular speed, then the fantasy realm moved at double speed.

“Just now, I went to the department next door, and then I and…” Yu Dongxi exhaled deeply. She didn’t even know how to logically describe what had just happened. “The guy in charge of the department next door—we both fell into some kind of fantasy realm… no, wait, I was pulled into it by him. Just now, he sent me out of that space…”

Wait.

Yu Dongxi suddenly realized her memory of the man was becoming blurry. She remembered he was referred to as… something like “Young Master.”

What Young Master? What was his name again?

The three people stared at the panting Yu Dongxi as if she were speaking nonsense. Luan Shaobo coughed a few times and interrupted, “Dongxi, who are you talking about? And did you just say you entered an fantasy realm?”

“That annoying guy next door—the one in charge of the cats and dogs!” Yu Dongxi looked at the group, utterly exasperated, on the verge of losing her mind. She really wanted to curse out loud! Song Yu’s current situation was completely uncertain—life or death!

The three looked at each other in confusion. Luan Shaobo asked, “What’s his name?”

“His name is…”

What was his name?

Yu Dongxi suddenly froze. The truth was, she didn’t even know what his name was.

But she was certain—he definitely existed. So why did everyone else act like they couldn’t remember him at all?

There was no time to explain. Yu Dongxi ran down the stairs in a rush, not even bothering with the elevator. She had a clear destination in mind and sprinted straight toward the department next door. Out of breath, she pushed open the door: “Hey, you little—”

But inside, apart from a few cats and dogs, there was no one else.

The only answer Yu Dongxi got… was a deathly silence.