Opening her eyes, Su Yao stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head to pick up her phone that was charging nearby.
The time displayed was already past 9:40.
Rubbing her slightly sore eyes, she curled back under the covers.
Since no longer having to go to school, she always felt a kind of emptiness and loneliness.
It hadn’t been like this before.
Back then, she couldn’t wait for holidays to come, so she could stay home alone.
But now, things were a bit different.
At school, she could listen to others share fresh stories and occasionally witness something joyful, but at home, there was only silence.
She figured it was probably because she no longer had a valid reason to contact Mu Nanqiu.
Since the exams ended, Su Yao had felt somewhat melancholic.
Adding to that, she learned online yesterday that Mu Nanqiu had gone somewhere far away and could only be contacted through QQ for the time being.
Although she could hear her voice on calls and see her through video chats, she couldn’t smell her scent or feel the warmth of her hands.
Obviously, it was nowhere near the feeling of being face to face.
Looking at her cracked phone, Su Yao thought it might be time to get a new one.
After entering university, there were hardly any winter or summer holiday assignments.
Sitting on the sofa, lost in thought, Su Yao felt bored.
She played with her phone for a while but couldn’t shake off the dullness.
Online videos were a very cheap form of entertainment—cheaper even than games.
Because of this, the happiness they brought was also rare.
It wasn’t that Su Yao didn’t play games, but she had just tried to contact Beizhi, who said she was busy with no free time…
Busy? Busy with what?
Then Su Yao tried reaching out to Luoyu on QQ, but Luoyu was the same.
Besides those two, Su Yao could only turn to Oyster Sauce, but Oyster Sauce wasn’t online either.
She sent messages that went unanswered for a long time—looking busy as well.
As for other girls in her class, although they chatted occasionally, Su Yao rarely responded beyond one or two words and didn’t participate much.
Naturally, she wasn’t very close to them.
At most, they were strangers who knew each other’s names.
They were curious about Su Yao’s peculiar identity but also somewhat wary of it.
Just because no one talked about it didn’t mean it had passed, and Su Yao certainly wouldn’t go find them to talk.
After much thought, she could only turn to Mu Nanqiu.
But Mu Nanqiu didn’t reply either.
Su Yao guessed she must have already arrived at her hometown and was probably spending time with family.
Suddenly, a wave of loneliness swept over her.
She was truly alone—everyone was busy.
Sigh, everyone’s busy…
“Hungry…”
She glanced at the phone again.
It was just past ten, and she hadn’t eaten breakfast.
She hadn’t eaten much the night before either.
Looking at the snacks around her, she wasn’t really in the mood.
She headed toward the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and found the red plastic bag inside empty.
The rustling sound from her rummaging caught her attention.
Looking at the broken bits of noodles inside, Su Yao sighed softly.
“When did I finish these?”
Recently, she had mostly been eating at school and rarely cooked at home.
She had completely forgotten when she had consumed this bag of dried noodles.
Opening another cabinet where the rice was kept, that bag was also squished and nearly empty.
She peered inside and saw it was almost gone too.
Checking her fridge, Su Yao wondered how exactly she was supposed to survive.
Standing in the empty kitchen space, Su Yao thought for a while before making a decision that went against her usual…
“I’m going out! I must go buy some food!”
Her dark eyes flickered with newfound confidence.
She had nothing left to fear now.
Just stepping out to buy food wasn’t a big deal.
Changing out of her home clothes and into a warm cotton jacket, Su Yao walked to the entrance.
She slipped on new shoes and felt the close, refreshing comfort of her new gear.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside.
It was very cold.
Halfway out the door, Su Yao felt a chill seep through her thick pants and tights, reaching her skin.
Though faint, sensitive Su Yao immediately noticed the cold.
Closing the door behind her, her gaze was drawn to a dazzling white light.
Outside the stairwell window was a snowy scene, the white glow of snowflakes drifting down.
Su Yao had never turned on the lights when leaving home before and was momentarily blinded.
After adjusting, she clearly saw the world coated in fine snowflakes.
She took a photo from the same angle and direction she remembered, then sent it to Mu Nanqiu with a message below.
“It’s snowing today. How’s it there?”
No reply yet.
Feeling a bit disheartened, Su Yao approached the window and looked down.
In the small park’s square, the kids had already trampled the snow from last night, leaving a messy scene.
Meanwhile, elderly men and women were shoveling the accumulated snow to the side.
Seeing someone walk by, one grandfather glanced over.
It was a pretty young girl, neatly dressed and pleasing to the eye.
The girl noticed his gaze and, somewhat shy, quickly turned away without greeting.
“Hey, that Su girl really is timid.”
“Isn’t she? Haha.”
“Back when Su Laoyi was still around, she’d come to play cards at my place. The little girl was so lively and pretty, very likable. We even wanted to talk about an arranged marriage, but Su Laoyi’s face darkened right away…”
The two old men stole a break to reminisce about past events related to Su Yao.
From start to finish, they called her “girl” as if it were perfectly normal.
Su Yao had long since walked away and couldn’t hear any of this.
She walked on in her black thick-heeled boots—the ones Mu Nanqiu had picked out for her.
Stepping on the semi-solid snow, the fresh layer made a soft rustling sound beneath her feet.
The older snow from last night had hardened slightly, cracking crisply underfoot.
Along the way, she spotted several snowmen of various sizes, now misshapen from a few hours earlier.
She poked one gently with a finger, but the icy chill made her pull back immediately.
Putting on gloves properly, she headed toward the Breakfast Shop.
Originally, she thought about just skipping breakfast and waiting until noon to eat to save money.
“But no, even if money’s tight, it’s not worth skipping this.”
Feeling her stomach rumble through the thick layers, she found a small shop by the roadside.
Business was slow, and she was the only customer.
The shop owner immediately came over to greet her.
“Hey, little beauty, what’ll you have?”
“Little beauty…” Su Yao still felt a bit awkward with such a nickname.
At school, classmates usually called each other by name.
Only strangers like shopkeepers used terms like this.
But not knowing them had its advantages—she didn’t have to care much about what they called her.
“Alright, thick noodles or thin? Takeout or eat here? Want it spicy?”
Su Yao had barely answered when the barrage of questions came.
Compared to her sparse, soft-spoken words, the female shop owner’s voice was much louder.
Her face, darkened by smoke and dust, was creased into a bright smile.
If it weren’t for her overwhelmingly loud voice, Su Yao’s heart would’ve jumped at first hearing.
“What kind of sauce do you want, little beauty?”
“Just wood ear mushrooms.”
After nibbling her meal bit by bit, Su Yao paid and left in a hurry.
She planned to head back and then go to the Grain and Oil Store to buy some noodles and rice, so she wouldn’t have to run out every day and waste money.
Eating out once cost at least ten yuan, and Su Yao couldn’t afford to eat out three meals a day.
Not only was it inconvenient, but it would also burn through her funds quickly.
Taking care of herself would ease some of her financial burden.
Walking along, Su Yao glanced at her phone again, but still no reply from Mu Nanqiu.
“Hiring staff, starting at three thousand?”
Looking at the sign and then the Milk Tea Shop nearby, Su Yao thought better of it.
Working a job like that really wasn’t suitable for her.
Of course, she wouldn’t just disappear.
It was just that monetizing her skills was still a long way off.
Plus, with the new website regulations, her Typing Princess role was stripped of even qualifying to be a Parasitic Bug.
How tragic—so tragic!
Making real money online was still extremely difficult, and truly profitable gigs were rare.
Su Yao was stressed to death, deeply worried about her future.
Seeing the Account Bill notification pop up on her phone, her eye twitched.
“Is there any way to turn this off? I really don’t want to be reminded every time how much I spent this month!”
Su Yao was a bit angry but soon cooled down.
Staring into the endless sky, she felt herself drifting into nothingness.
Quickly lowering her head to look at her legs, she muttered to herself.
“Giving me this kind of body—is it to make sure I don’t starve to death?”
Thinking this, she was annoyed at herself.
“You really are useless!”
As she walked, a car pulled up beside the road.
Su Yao instinctively looked over.
There was no particular reason—just that the emblem on the hood was unfamiliar but impressive.
When the door opened, Su Yao was startled.
“Nanqiu?”
The name didn’t even leave her mouth.
In front of her was an elegant, noble woman.
Though somewhat resembling Mu Nanqiu, their auras were different.
When the woman approached her, Su Yao was stunned.
Standing before her with a faint smile, the woman asked,
“Excuse me, are you Su Yao?”
“No, madam, you have the wrong person. My name is Yao Su.”
“?”
“Madam… isn’t this a bit inappropriate?”
Madam Mu’s face darkened as she gripped Su Yao’s hand.
Taking a deep breath, she gave Su Yao a gentle smile.