"My dear sisters, hurry up!" Yan waved at the two people behind her.
What’s so interesting on the ground in the middle of the night that they’re walking so slowly?
Huh? Wait a minute—
Since when did their relationship improve so dramatically that they’re already holding hands?
Yan’s first thought was: Did Officer Zheng Yi just slap handcuffs on her?
Fortunately, as they passed under a streetlight, she saw clearly—no handcuffs. That would’ve been terrifying.
"My car is right over there. Get in, I’ll take you to the hotel," Zheng Yi said.
"Eh? Sis, you drove here?" Yan was surprised. The hotel she and Jue Jue had booked wasn’t far from the theater.
After all, this was the city center, near the convention center. She’d deliberately chosen a hotel that catered mostly to business guests.
"Yeah, I didn’t park underground. There was a spot in the lot when I arrived." Zheng Yi led them to a Jeep with Bin City license plates, not police plates.
Plainclothes police car? Yan guessed. If Officer Zheng Yi drove a marked police car and never wore a uniform, she’d stand out way too much.
Zheng Yi took the driver’s seat, Senior He Xing sat in the passenger seat, while Yan and Zhu Jue settled in the back.
After Yan gave the na of their hotel, she heard He Xing murmur softly from the front, " too."
Yan and Jue Jue: !
With so many hotels nearby, how could they have coincidentally booked the sa one?
"I reserved a room with double breakfast. No idea how the hotel’s breakfast is, though," Yan said.
"In the past… it was passable. The facilities are a bit dated, and the food was nothing special, but everything was fresh," He Xing replied calmly.
Yan paused. From the sound of it, He Xing had stayed at this hotel before?
The hotel wasn’t far, and at nearly 10 p.m., the roads were quiet.
"Too bad it’s cold out. Otherwise, we could’ve grabbed so late-night skewers or congee," Zheng Yi remarked while driving.
No matter where she was, after working a case late into the night, she always liked to unwind with a midnight snack—a bowl of noodles, so rice, or a few skewers to shake off the exhaustion.
"Doubt there are any small shops like that around here," Yan mused, rubbing her chin.
"Outdoor street stalls are practically extinct in big cities now—whether it’s Ning City or Bin City," Zhu Jue said.
"True. That’s why I like Shen City and Yang City. You can still find skewers, congee, or fried noodles on the streets late at night," Zheng Yi said, turning the wheel as they pulled up to the trio’s hotel.
"Get so rest. See you around," Zheng Yi said lightly.
Yan and Jue Jue bid Officer Zheng Yi goodbye. He Xing unbuckled her seatbelt, eting Zheng Yi’s gaze. Her lips twitched slightly before she finally said, "Goodbye."
They checked in together—all on the sa floor.
He Xing inserted the keycard and stepped into her queen-bed room. The hotel had clearly seen better days, with its old-fashioned business decor, no smart appliances, and overly dark color sche. Still, it was impeccably clean.
Standing by the window, she could see Bin City Grand Theater in the distance.
She drew the curtains and blackout shades, leaving only the dim sleep light on. After a quick wash, He Xing sat on the bed, replaying the dance performance in her mind—the demanding choreography, the raw emotion of the dancers. She had to admit, it was a first-class production with top-tier perforrs.
Rolling up her loose sleeves and pant legs, she assessed the muscles in her arms and legs. They needed more training to regain their forr strength.
Her current form wasn’t enough to return to the stage.
Diet, training, discipline—none could be neglected.
Truthfully, with the help of the quick-transmigration system and the body-enhancing technique she’d brought back, her physique had already recovered to its peak condition—just as it had been before the accident.
But for He Xing, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
She studied her left hand, flexing it through a series of intricate motions before clenching and releasing her fist.
"Justice?"
"What does delayed justice even an?"
She murmured to herself. In truth, she’d never planned to disrupt the performance.
A dancer owed it to their fellow perforrs and the audience to honor every show.
Hundreds of seats, hundreds of spectators each night—He Xing would never sabotage that.
It was her professional code.
Every performance represented countless hours of preparation, sweat from the cast, and anticipation from the audience.
She was selfish—but not selfish enough to let others’ money or effort pay for her revenge.
Tomorrow, she’d finally see Fu Yao take the stage. Then, she’d see for herself how much her forr rival had grown in the three years since her absence.
He Xing closed her eyes briefly. Her phone buzzed—she’d only switched it back to vibrate after leaving the theater.
It was a ssage from Yan, saying she’d probably be sightseeing tomorrow and wouldn’t join her for breakfast.
He Xing replied with an "Okay," then tapped into Yan’s social dia feed.
Summarized in seven words: Food, fun, travel, and PDA.
She seed like any ordinary college student.
He Xing’s feelings toward Yan were complicated now.
All things considered, she’d been in this new dorm for less than a week.
When arranging her return to school, He Xing had specifically requested a transfer to a different college’s dorm.
The school had assigned her to the South District, rooming with underclassn. She’d been fine with that.
First, she didn’t want to interact with forr classmates or alumni yet. Returning to the arts college would’ve ant facing too many loaded glances.
Second, He Xing preferred roommates who were complete strangers. This hodgepodge dorm of five freshn from different majors? She hadn’t expected to form any friendships.
Her original plan was to be a low-key roommate—co and go quietly, minimize contact.
But that plan had shattered on her very first day.
Her underclassn, her new roommates, were overwhelmingly warm.
Recalling that first day: Yan and Ding Ling had welcod her in the dorm, while others helped carry her packages upstairs.
Then they’d even made her bed for her! Completely derailing her original intentions.
As the saying goes, you don’t hit soone who smiles at you—and as the one receiving help, she couldn’t exactly respond with coldness.
Her roommates had given her gifts, shared als at their table, passed around snacks—this lively dorm dynamic was sothing she’d never experienced before.
He Xing had been through enough to recognize genuine kindness when she saw it. This wasn’t superficial politeness—just good-hearted underclassn extending warmth to a stranger.
And for them, it was simply how they were.
He Xing was touched, and she wouldn’t forget it.
The looks they gave her were curious, yet distant—no one asked about her past.
Having been away for three years, the younger students in the dorm were all from other departnts, none connected to the arts. And in this dorm room, there was Sui Sui, a young artist from a wealthy family, Bing Bing, a rich heiress, and Yi Zhi, an agricultural prodigy who had been taken under a professor’s wing as a freshman… He Xing had initially thought they all maintained a certain respectful distance when it ca to each other’s privacy.
As for Yan, He Xing’s first impression of her was "considerate."
She was the first to add He Xing on WeChat, pulling her into the dorm group chat, from group announcents to cleaning schedules and dietary restrictions.
This girl, who seed less remarkable in every way compared to the others, was sohow the most mature—the unofficially designated dorm leader.
"Dorm leader" might sound a bit like a "busybody," but Yan handled things thoughtfully, not slickly. She was like the glue of Room 320, quietly looking after everyone, handling the tedious details others overlooked.
He Xing sat on her bed, hugging her knees. So, had Yan known about her situation from the very first day they t?
The appearance of the "Righteous Officer," especially today, had caught her completely off guard and disrupted many of her plans.
Their first encounter on Tuesday night hadn’t seed significant to He Xing at the ti—she’d assud Yan and the others were just showing their older sister around campus.
But now, having formally t Officer Zheng Yi, she wondered: had they been scouting the area back then? Or had they been waiting for her outside the arts college?
Zheng Yi’s involvent had to be connected to Yan.
Though Zheng Yi’s sudden appearance tonight had left her flustered, what truly unsettled He Xing was her dormmate Yan.
She had never ntioned her past to anyone, and even online searches would only turn up old encyclopedia entries—after all, she’d vanished for three years, and the vague rumors had long been scrubbed away.
No matter how she racked her brain, He Xing couldn’t figure out how Yan had known—let alone known enough to bring Zheng Yi into the picture.
The tickets Bing Bing had handed her—exactly four of them—were undeniably part of tonight’s carefully orchestrated plan.
It was as if everything had been arranged.
From their first eting on Tuesday night, to the prepared performance tickets for tonight, to the perfectly tid delay that left her alone with Zheng Yi before the show…
And now, staying at the sa hotel? He Xing refused to believe this was coincidence.
How could so many things line up so perfectly, one after another?
Yan had seed to understand everything about her from day one, as if she’d seen right through her. And as if worried He Xing might do sothing drastic, she’d brought in the legendary Zheng Yi.
That night, when Bing Bing brought up the Xie family case, He Xing had looked it up.
She had never told anyone about these things—yet Yan seed to know it all.
He Xing’s lashes fluttered. What kind of person could see through soone’s deepest secrets at first glance?
It reminded her… She narrowed her eyes, sifting through hazy mories. She’d encountered soone like this before, in one of those small worlds.
"Fate-reader?" He Xing murmured.
Did such people exist in this world too?
A pair of naturally perceptive eyes, seeing through the myriad threads of life.
Silently plucking the strings of fate, setting things right, holding destinies at their fingertips, witnessing countless pasts and lives.
Yet fate-readers themselves were always low-key, blending into the crowd, detached yet engaged.
But they rarely intervened directly—whereas Yan had clearly inserted herself as the bridge between He Xing and Zheng Yi.
Why would she go so far to help soone she barely knew?
And Zheng Yi—this was only their second eting. Why was she so certain? Had she already uncovered a lot on her end?
He Xing’s gaze turned distant. She’d thought that after returning from the fast-transmigration worlds, her revenge would be a solitary path.
Yet now, two unfathomable figures had appeared beside her, offering their hands.
Her phone buzzed again, snapping her out of her thoughts. She frowned.
Zheng Yi. Again.
Did she not have other cases to work on?
[Zheng Yi]: Asleep yet?
[He Xing]: ?
[Zheng Yi]: Sleep well. Goodnight.
He Xing stared at the ssage, speechless. This woman was unbelievable!
Her fingers flew across the screen as she typed a reply.
[He Xing]: How did you find ?
Zheng Yi stood outside the hotel, watching the dance troupe return after their performance. Among them was a strikingly beautiful face she’d seen countless tis in case files.
She exhaled silently and sent her reply.
[Zheng Yi]: From the mont I first saw you.
Zheng Yi knew what He Xing was really asking—and she was telling the truth. That Tuesday night, her "morality radar" had pinpointed He Xing as an anomaly, marking this case as one she’d pursue until the truth ca to light.
She waited as the perforrs filed through the lobby and into the elevators, then stepped up to the front desk, flashing her badge to book a room.
"From the mont she first saw …" He Xing read the ssage, sensing the weight behind those words.
She didn’t think she wore her bitterness or hatred on her face—years of fast-transmigration had taught her to remain unreadable, even if the sky fell.
He Xing called up her fast-transmigration assistant.
"System, I need to know—do individuals with special abilities exist in this world?"
"Like fate-readers."
"Insufficient permissions. Unable to answer."
The assistant remained silent. After a pause, He Xing rephrased her question.
"Then tell —has this world been opened to other retired hosts?"
She knew she wasn’t the only one taken by the fast-transmigration system. There were others—sweet romance protagonists, cannon fodder, supporting characters, original wives…
From what she understood, hosts who completed enough tasks could choose to continue working or retire. Most retirees opted for modern societies—safe, peaceful, stable, with all the conveniences. No matter what skills they brought back, they could live comfortably here.
But her system assistant had once told her that retired veterans usually lived quietly, their experiences leaving them detached. Unless sothing happened, they blended in seamlessly as ordinary people.
This ti, the assistant answered: "Yes."
"Can I know who?" He Xing pressed.
"Privacy restrictions apply. No further information available." The assistant’s tone was icy.
He Xing pressed her lips together. So, her world did have other retired fast-transmigrators.
Her eyes caught a glimpse of that youthful, radiant smile—Yan, my junior, could it be you?
Reviews
All reviews (0)