Current balance: 1,360 yuan.
Out on the road, cruising in her little four-wheeled "granny mobile," Chu Yian was feeling pretty pleased with herself.
So young, and already bought a car outright. Not bad.
She parked her new treasure and hauled everything up to her apartment.
If nothing unexpected happened, she didn't plan on leaving again anytime soon.
Just remembering the guy at the hot pot place vomiting was enough to kill her appetite.
Chu Yian flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV—something she hadn't touched since moving in.
There weren't many channels.
City intros, nature documentaries, or local news.
Wait—news!
She sat up straight and flipped to the news channel.
Most of the reports were mundane, almost painfully normal:
A telecom scam targeted a senior citizen,
A couple married sixty years filed for divorce,
A string of home burglaries in a nearby district...
Everything felt so small, so ordinary.
Then a more serious segment came on:
"At 11:03 a.m. today, a traffic accident occurred in Fucheng District. A taxi suddenly lost control and collided with a nearby bus, injuring six people.
Initial reports suggest the taxi driver blacked out due to a high fever.
All six involved, including the driver, are currently being treated in hospital and are not in critical condition."
A brief shot of the hospital flashed by.
One of the patients had noticeable red spots all over his arm, but the camera cut away too quickly to see clearly.
Still, Chu Yian felt reassured. She wasn't going outside anytime soon.
Let the chaos stay out there—she was safe, for now.
Day 3 of the Game.
After two days of barely eating, Chu Yian's stomach was growling.
She looked around at the stacks of supplies crowding her little apartment.
Time to treat herself.
She had shrimp in the fridge.
She deveined them, sliced them open, and laid them over a bed of softened glass noodles.
Added garlic paste and seasoning, steamed for twenty minutes—perfect garlic shrimp over vermicelli.
Then she beat an egg and made a silky steamed egg custard.
Sautéed a side dish.
Steamed a small pot of rice.
Heavenly.
Chu Yian brought her little feast to the coffee table and flipped on the TV, still tuned to the news.
"A new infectious disease has been discovered in our city.
Six confirmed cases so far, one death, five in critical care.
Experts have identified it as a highly contagious, high-fatality virus.
Close contacts have been isolated. Citizens are urged to maintain personal hygiene and wear masks when going out, especially in crowded areas."
It's already started.
Chu Yian put her chopsticks down and focused on the screen.
But just like every other seasonal outbreak, the report lasted all of two minutes. No in-depth follow-up.
Still, the key points were chilling:
Highly contagious. Deadly.
Staying indoors had been absolutely the right call.
But… what about the other players?
Chu Yian remembered the forum discussions—she wasn't the only one in this game.
Everyone started with the same 2,000 yuan.
Were they stockpiling supplies like her? Or out there trying to make money?
As she mulled it over, she suddenly heard voices in the hallway.
She was on the eighth floor of a brand-new complex, and this floor only had one tenant—her.
So… who was out there?
Curious, she unlocked her inner steel door and peered through the peephole.
Outside stood several workers, along with a tall, well-dressed man in a black shirt and rimless glasses—elegant, refined.
She'd only intended to take a quick look.
But the moment she saw him, she froze.
"Lu… teacher Lu!"
Wait a second—was this the zombie apocalypse world again?
They'd barely survived that mess, and now she was in a pandemic crisis?
What kind of hellscape was this world?!
Chu Yian slapped on her mask and flung open the door.
"Teacher Lu! I'm so glad to see you again!"
She was genuinely thrilled—but he looked at her like she was a stranger.
"Sorry… do I know you?"
"I'm Chu Yian!" she said, tugging down her mask for just a second so he could see her face, then quickly pulling it back up.
"We escaped a horde of zombies together, remember? Life-or-death bond? That was just a few days ago!"
Zombies? Life-or-death bond?
Lu Qingyuan's eyes turned cold. "I don't know what you're talking about."
That hit her like a slap.
One of the workers spoke up.
"Sir, we've finished installing the new lock and soundproofing."
"If there's nothing else, we'll head out."
Lu Qingyuan nodded and then slammed his door shut without another word.
That completely unfamiliar demeanor...
Something wasn't right.
Chu Yian went back inside, locked her door, and immediately grabbed her phone.
She searched:
"zombie outbreak"
"zombie crisis"
"zombie apocalypse"
What came up?
Tons of books, movies, and shows.
So this… probably isn't the same world.
This version of Lu Qingyuan had no memory of what they went through before.
Wait—of course not.
These were all just games—constructed worlds, simulations.
But that led to deeper questions:
Who was building these worlds?
And why?
Lu Qingyuan's reappearance—and the way he acted like a complete stranger—made her start questioning the nature of this game.
But no matter how hard she thought about it, she came up empty.
All she could tell was:
This game sucks.
It's cheap.
It's brutal.
It throws billions of people into survival scenarios, and then doles out pitiful rewards.
And now, even NPCs are pulling double duty between games.
Absolutely savage.
Screw this game.
Day 4 of the Game.
Chu Yian was still safely holed up at home.
She woke up early, flipped on the TV, and tuned out the news unrelated to the pandemic.
Today was exciting for a different reason—her treasure chest was finally off cooldown.
It had been 72 hours since the last item drop.
She eagerly summoned the glowing box, reached her hand inside…
And pulled out a lightweight, cylindrical object.
[One Roll of Raw Pulp Toilet Paper]
Note: Will be retrieved after this round ends.
Item Quote: The kind you can buy at the store for 3 yuan. If this counts as a "good item"… then it's probably because you're stranded with nothing and really, really need to poop.