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The female lead, Song Shuige, along with Xie Huai and his father, led the villagers to escape a sudden natural disaster. She obtained water-based divine power from the flood, while Xie Huai gained earth-based divine power from the landslide.
During their journey, they encountered the Xie family’s exile convoy, only to find that the original host was missing. Many in the convoy had either perished or been severely injured, and even half of the guards had been lost. They immediately inquired about the whereabouts of the original host.
But how could the soldiers possibly know?
Xie Huai and his father then learned that the original host had fled before the family’s property was confiscated. This news brought them both relief and worry—relief that she had escaped, yet concern for her current situation.
Three days after the Xie family’s property was seized, an enormous hailstorm struck the imperial city. Even the nearby city of Qizhou was not spared.
Hailstones, as large as bucket openings, crushed those who had no shelter or protection in open spaces.
Many civilians lost their lives, but some, through this harsh disaster, awakened mysterious abilities called divine powers—for instance, the ability to launch ice spikes as a weapon.
Xie Zhizhi understood the cause behind these natural disasters. Anyone exposed to extreme weather had the chance to awaken a supernatural ability.
For example, being struck by hail had a 50% chance of granting an ice spike ability—or a 50% chance of death.
After that massive hailstorm, 100% of the buildings in the imperial city were destroyed. Many people, however, gained divine powers through this calamity.
The emperor, untouched by the hail, did not awaken any abilities. As a result, he was overthrown by those who had awakened ice spike powers. The treasury was plundered, precious goods were seized, and even food—now an incredibly rare commodity—was stolen.
Those with divine powers could evade natural disasters. These abilities had two main uses: offense and protection. The protective function could create a circle of ice spikes around the user, acting as a shield that rendered them immune to disasters.
The higher the level, the larger the protective circle, with power increasing tenfold with each level.
There were nine levels in total. A Level 1 protective circle had a diameter of 50 cm, and with each increase in level, the diameter expanded tenfold.
At Level 2, it reached 5 meters. When large enough, the shield could even protect an entire city, which is why people called it a divine power.
Those without divine powers had only two choices: either become helpless victims of disasters or serve as slaves to the strong, surviving within their protective zones.
With the relentless disasters, the land was largely destroyed, making food incredibly scarce. Only the strong could seize enough to survive.
As more supernatural disasters occurred, different individuals awakened unique divine powers, reshaping the world into a place where the strong ruled and power determined survival. Political forces were overturned, and a new order emerged.
The novel only described how the original host reunited with her father and brother in Qizhou, where they gathered villagers and built their own faction. The rest was still being updated, and Xie Zhizhi hadn’t read further.
Could she still read the story if she connected her phone in her space?
Probably not, without an internet connection.
These thoughts only took her a few seconds, but she knew she was stepping into an extremely dangerous world.
The original host seemed to have awakened the ice spike power—did that mean she would too?
Luckily, she had stockpiled enough supplies and had her personal space as a safe haven. She might as well treat this as an adventure.
Strangely enough, instead of fear, she felt anticipation.
What nonsense.
Regardless, she was alone in this world.
There were still three days before the hailstorm. The darkened sky above seemed to be brewing another disaster.
She needed a plan.
Snapping back to reality, she noticed Jing Yi and Jing Er silently standing before her, their eyes glued to her large guandao.
The original host had been carefree and straightforward, lacking political cunning—bold and uninhibited, much like herself.
That meant persuading these two shadow guards would be easy.
She took a deep breath, bit her lip bitterly, and spoke fiercely:
“Confiscating my family’s property? I won’t let that damn emperor get away with it for nothing!”
A single tear slid from her deep-set eyes as her thin back trembled. She looked at Jing Yi and Jing Er with sorrow and confided,
“I just had a dream… Father told me in my dream… He never betrayed Daxing. It was… that damned emperor’s scheme—just because of those 300,000 military tokens! You did the right thing. If I die too, and my father and brother are still alive, they would be filled with guilt.”
She sniffed, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, regretful as she murmured,
“If I had gone to the border with Father back then… would I have understood his struggles?”
That last sentence came straight from the original host’s heart. The moment she heard the tragic news, she had regretted it.
She had a sudden epiphany—but it was too late. Her last memory of her father was frozen at age sixteen.
And now, she was only seventeen.
Luckily, in the novel, the original host reunited with her father and brother two years later.
Xie Zhizhi’s expression was sorrowful and furious. She clenched her fists, her gaze distant as silent tears fell—grief beyond words.
Jing Yi, observant and resilient despite his own injuries, quickly stepped forward to comfort her. Avoiding her large guandao, he stood beside her,
“Miss, don’t cry. Jing Yi and Jing Er will always be by your side. It’s good that you understand the General’s difficulties. Don’t be sad.”
Jing Er, quiet and strong, stood stiffly to the side, unsure how to console her. He nodded awkwardly,
“Miss, don’t cry.”
“It’s not your fault, Jing Yi…” Xie Zhizhi’s keen nose picked up a faint scent of blood. She turned toward Jing Yi’s arm, her voice lowering,
“Were you slashed just now?”
Jing Yi dismissed it, “It’s nothing, just a minor wound.”
As he spoke, he prepared to tear off a piece of his clothing for a makeshift bandage, but Xie Zhizhi stopped him.
“Did you bring any wound medicine?” Even if she had medicine in her space, she couldn’t just take it out casually. Besides, it was a minor injury.
Her distraction broke the somber mood.
Jing Yi grinned and waved dismissively, “It’s just a small wound. No need for medicine—my body’s used to it.”
“If it gets infected, you’ll develop a fever. A small wound can turn into a big one. Use the medicine. Jing Er, apply it for him, and if you have cloth strips, wrap it up.”
She was firm. In truth, the original host had a close bond with her shadow guards—they had accompanied her since she was five, learning martial arts while she studied.
Without another word, Jing Er rummaged through a battered carriage and retrieved a bundle, pulling out a small bottle of wound medicine to treat Jing Yi’s injury.
Jing Yi examined his newly bandaged arm, adjusted his outer robe to hide the bloodstains, then glanced at the shattered carriage.
“Miss, the carriage is destroyed. You’ll have to ride with us to Qizhou to buy a new one.”
Qizhou—the closest major city to the imperial capital in the Daxing Dynasty.
Xie Zhizhi had her own considerations. Instead of responding immediately, she watched as Jing Er packed their belongings and asked softly,
“Did you bring any maps of Daxing or other countries?”
Maps were crucial for travel. If she didn’t understand the routes, how could she navigate the world? She wanted maps of other nations as well—to see how the entire continent was divided and perhaps even visit those lands someday.
Jing Er answered truthfully,
“We only managed to buy a simple route map from the capital to the border. Detailed maps of Daxing are only available to top-ranking officials and the emperor. Maps of other nations are only possessed by the General and the emperor—but we’ve never seen them.”
Jing Yi assumed she wanted to go elsewhere and asked,
“Miss, do you plan to travel to another place?”
“Yes. And a rough map isn’t enough. The more detailed, the better—getting lost would waste too much time.”
“The world may change drastically soon, but I can’t tell you more just yet. Are you curious about this guandao?” Xie Zhizhi raised the weapon in her hand.
Jing Yi and Jing Er’s eyes were filled with curiosity.
She smiled mysteriously, her gaze as clear as a tranquil lake.
“I’ll tell you in a few days. But first, we must return to the capital and obtain the maps.”
If possible, she even wanted to sneak into the palace.
Though the two guards were puzzled, they didn’t question her.
Xie Zhizhi sheathed her guandao, raised an eyebrow, and asked,
“Jing Er, you brought disguise tools, right?”
Disguises were the only way to evade the authorities—an essential skill for shadow guards. Jing Er nodded and obediently retrieved a disguise kit.