…
Zheng Yingxiong opened his eyes, his face pressed against the desk.
Running his fingers over the hard, cold surface, he realized he had woken up in a classroom.
He sighed quietly to himself.
Though he didn’t know what had happened, it seemed everything had started over again.
In this land of despair, no matter how hard he tried, everything would eventually crumble into nothingness.
Just like every time before, his deskmate Xu Jiahua would be scolded by the teacher, and they would be friends for a single day.
What a… miserable… prison?
This path had been far too exhausting… Zheng Yingxiong had never felt so weary before.
Two days later, he would relive the earthquake, mount his bicycle again, and leave the city of “Yucheng”—that place that had shattered his heart countless times—only to seek out another land of despair.
Was there truly no end to this?
Before even lifting his head, Zheng Yingxiong began to sob quietly against the desk.
A few seconds later, he felt an itch in his nose. He reached up, and his fingertips came away stained with fresh red.
“Huh…?”
A nosebleed…?
Disbelieving, he wiped his nose again and opened his palm—a smear of dried blood lay stark against his skin.
He had returned to reality, but the wounds from the prison still clung to him.
Shocked, he froze, then abruptly stood up, scanning the room.
Only then did he realize that though he was in a classroom, the entire space was eerily silent, devoid of any other people.
Something was wrong. He bolted out the door and sprinted toward home.
What in the world was happening…?
An empty school…?
The heavy clatter of his sandals echoed through the hallways, down the stairs, and out into the streets.
But he never saw a single soul.
Zhang Chenze groggily opened her eyes to the sight of an empty wedding hall.
She was seated at the main table, where steaming dishes still sat untouched.
Her expression shifted as she remembered where she was, and she turned sharply to look for Xiao Sun beside her.
But the tables, the stage, the entire hall—all were deserted. What should have been a joyous celebration had turned into a ghostly, unpeopled ceremony.
Upbeat music played hollowly through the speakers, and the screen cycled through photos of the newlyweds, but the world felt hollow.
This place seemed like reality… and yet, didn’t.
So… had everything failed again?
But she had done it. In that chaotic room, when everyone else was panicking, she had calmly and precisely transferred Qinglong’s “soul” onto a small branch.
So why hadn’t it worked?
This failure seemed even more devastating, bleeding into this hollow reality and erasing its people.
But if this was failure… why had she regained all her memories at the last moment?
Not only did she remember everything from the “Land of the End,” but she also recalled a promise.
Before it all began, someone had vowed to give her a better future.
And now…?
In this state, she could only awaken with even deeper despair.
Defeated, she glanced at the table and spotted a box of wedding cigarettes.
She pulled one out, stepped into the emergency stairwell out of habit, lit it, and then sank to the floor in utter resignation.
This feeling was unbearably painful.
If the end was always this despair, why offer hope at all?
Li Jingguan was yanked violently toward a car, stumbling in shock.
He looked up and realized—this was the same car he had used to stake out Zhang Huanan in the real world. But what was happening now?
Where was Xiao Liu in the car? The pedestrians nearby?
Bewildered, he opened the door and scanned the surroundings.
Qiao Jiajian landed outside the prison gates. His “Tian Xing Jian” hadn’t fully healed his injuries, leaving him in lingering pain.
Clutching his chest weakly, he looked up—he seemed to have returned to reality.
But where was his friend Gun Youliang, who was supposed to pick him up?
Only an empty, beat-up car stood before him. No guards behind, no brothers waiting.
Countless empty worlds had emerged, each person stranded in confusion.
What was happening now?
Before anyone could react, that strange sensation—carrying the same power as before—swept through their minds again.
Qiao Jiajian pressed a hand to his forehead and looked up. Far above, figures began appearing in the sky.
Though indistinct, he could make out people in black leather jackets materializing out of thin air before flying away.
Worlds appearing from nothing… and now people too?
Every new arrival had their memories scanned anew, their personal worlds crafted out of the void before merging back into the greater whole.
Overlapping waves of scrutiny passed over each new being, tiny realms forming one after another in the emptiness—then a second wave, a third.
And then—sound erupted.
In the blink of an eye, Gun Youliang was suddenly standing before Qiao Jiajian, leaning against an empty car and waving enthusiastically.
“Yo, bro! It’s Gun Youliang!”
Qiao Jiajian opened his mouth to reply, but then his mind was scanned again.
Two immense forces intertwined, sifting through everyone’s memories.
One was domineering and chaotic, wildly constructing worlds from fragments of thought.
The other was warm and lonely, breathing life back into the people of those memories.
Qiao Jiajian clutched his head and slowly crouched down, feeling as if even he was losing his mind.
It was as if someone was borrowing his “faith.”
Yet the power was so comforting that he couldn’t bring himself to resist.
Seconds later, the force dissipated, and Qiao Jiajian lifted his dazed gaze to the figures before him.
But now there were two.
A long-haired man with tattooed arms now leaned lazily against Gun Youliang, using his shoulder as a prop.
Grinning mischievously, he asked, “Our manly Ah Jian, how’d you come out of the joint looking so weak?”
“Jiu… Jiu-Zai…?” Qiao Jiajian’s voice cracked.
“Ha… Jiu-Ge, don’t tease him,” Gun Youliang chimed in, smiling. “Jian-Ge, prison must’ve been rough. Me and Jiu-Ge’ll take you out for some fun.”
Qiao Jiajian felt like he was dreaming.
A second ago, there had only been one person… How had it changed in an instant?
Was this eerie place a dream… or reality?
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