Chapter 3: Speculation  

Complex thoughts surged and churned in her mind, ultimately dissolving into a single sigh.  

Lin Yu lowered her hand, picked up the blanket she’d tossed aside, and brought it to her face.  

The room was pitch black, too dark for human eyes to see.  

She squinted for a while, then leaned her chin forward, bringing her nose close to the fabric and sniffing lightly.  

No particular smell.  

Lin Yu let go of the blanket, turned around, and leaned down, burying her face in the pillow, taking a deep breath.  

A faint fragrance soothed her senses.  

After doing this, she sat up straight, unconsciously furrowing her brow.  

No smell of blood, which meant there hadn’t been any violent, bloody conflict before her transmigration.  

So, how did the original owner die?  

Murder, or an unexpected sudden death?  

If it was murder, what method had been used?  

Lin Yu felt like she’d just escaped a wolf’s den only to step into a tiger’s lair.  

The fear of losing her memories after transmigration, the disorientation of becoming a girl, and various speculations swirled in her mind like cawing crows, disrupting her thoughts with their piercing noise.  

Suddenly, Lin Yu raised both hands and slapped them together toward her face.  

Smack!  

The burning pain on her cheeks dispelled some of her panic, bringing a bit of clarity.  

Calm down, calm down.  

Lin Yu repeated softly to herself, then slowly exhaled.  

First, figure out the surroundings.  

There’s a bed, a blanket, a pillow—such items.  

Her body structure was very similar to that of a human female, suggesting this world was likely dominated by human civilization.  

Perhaps she was still on Earth.  

This thought rekindled a spark of hope in Lin Yu—maybe she could see her parents again.  

Pulling back her thoughts, Lin Yu began to explore.  

She didn’t rush to get out of bed but instead lay flat, spreading her arms to the sides.  

Hm, no edges on either side.  

A large bed, not a single one.  

A double bed?  

She groped around nearby and, sure enough, found another pillow on the right side of the bed.  

Lin Yu: “…”  

Damn it, was the original owner married?  

This speculation wasn’t baseless.  

Without the original owner’s memories, she knew only her current biological sex—female.  

Everything else—appearance, age, name, relationships—was a blank slate.  

Given the arrangement of items on the bed, the worst-case scenario was that she was still a virgin but already a wife, possibly even a mother of several kids.  

Damn it!!!  

Lin Yu couldn’t help but raise her hand to rub her temple again.  

Stop overthinking—wild guesses only add stress and solve nothing.  

She exhaled, pushed the bothersome pillow aside, and ran one hand along the headboard, slowly feeling around.  

Lamp, lamp, lamp.  

Unfortunately, she didn’t find any switch-like object.  

Instead, at the bed’s edge, she grabbed a piece of hanging fabric.  

Not quite like a mosquito net—too thick.  

Probably some kind of decorative curtain.  

In the end, she explored the entire bed and its edges.  

No lamp switch, no bedside table, no common items.  

But there were four decorative curtains, all tied at the bed’s corners.  

Such elaborate decor—must be a wealthy household.  

Lin Yu didn’t linger on the soft bed.  

Carefully, she scooted to the edge, lifted one leg, stretched it out in midair, and kicked lightly.  

The long skirt bunched up around her waist, not exactly elegant.  

Only after calming down did she notice some overlooked details.  

She was lying on the bed fully dressed in an elaborate outfit, not comfortable loungewear or intimate sleepwear, but formal attire.  

There could be two reasons for this.  

First, the original owner wasn’t in her own bedroom.  

Second, the original owner hadn’t lain down willingly but was placed here by someone else.  

The second reason, combined with the original owner’s “death,” was highly suspicious.  

So, who had placed her on the bed?  

As she thought, Lin Yu suddenly chuckled and shook her head.  

What a classic locked-room murder mystery.  

Maybe she should find a pair of glasses to wear.  

After poking fun at herself, Lin Yu lowered her leg and stepped onto the floor.  

She was still wearing shoes—leather boots, though she couldn’t make out the style.  

Lin Yu stomped lightly twice, and the floor gave a slightly muffled sound, likely carpeted.  

She didn’t wander aimlessly in the dark but kept her shin against the bed’s edge, slowly moving to the right where it met the wall, establishing a direction to avoid bumping into things or pointlessly circling in a small area.  

Leaving without knowing what was outside carried risks.  

So, instead of searching for the door, Lin Yu prioritized finding a light source to dispel the darkness and make use of the room’s information and tools.  

After all, a murderer who killed “her” might be lurking outside.  

Lin Yu moved cautiously, both hands groping ahead, taking small steps to stay within the reach of her outstretched arms.  

“Hm?”  

A cabinet?  

Feeling the cool wood, Lin Yu frowned, bent her fingers, and traced along its outline.  

No, too short, and it has a flat surface—probably a wooden table.  

Feeling slightly reassured, Lin Yu stepped back, bent down to align her gaze with the tabletop, and began to explore.  

Soon, she grabbed a small box-shaped object.  

A find was good news.  

Lin Yu stood up, carefully examining the item in her hand.  

It was light, rectangular.  

She lifted it to her nose and sniffed.  

A slightly pungent smell, not pleasant.  

Lin Yu had a guess.  

Her fingers slid along the narrower side of the box and gave a gentle push.  

“It’s open!” she couldn’t help but exclaim softly with excitement.  

Her fingers brushed over the half-open box, feeling stick-like objects inside.  

As expected, it was a box of matches.  

No amount of feigned calmness could hold up now.  

Lin Yu eagerly grabbed a match and struck it against the box’s edge.  

Scritch. 

A faint sound, and an orange flame ignited at her fingertip, driving back the suffocating darkness like a receding tide.  

The flame was the soul of human civilization, and Lin Yu now understood the weight of those words.  

She stared blankly at the match in her hand, the flickering orange light reflected in her eyes.  

Perhaps the flame was too hot, or the light too piercing—her eyes began to sting uncontrollably.  

The shock of the anomaly, death, transmigration—she’d masked her helplessness and fear with lighthearted jests, pretending to be mature.  

Before the tears welling in her eyes could spill, Lin Yu suddenly tilted her head back.  

She sniffed, lowered her head, and said in a muffled voice, “Can’t waste the match.”  

With red eyes, Lin Yu held the match forward, looking at the wooden table she’d just found.  

There sat a candlestick.