In the academy’s library, Mo Qingqing was sprawled on a soft velvet sofa.
The magic terminal still displayed the saved isekai manga, her fingertips hovering in the air but refusing to press down.
“I see.”
A sudden sense of inexplicable emptiness gripped her heart, like a corner that had always been filled suddenly caved in, leaving an aching void.
Then the feeling of control linking her to Su Yun, like blood vessels, was severed completely.
She sat up abruptly, her face turning pale, fingertips trembling slightly.
The contract had broken.
Mo Qingqing instantly understood what had happened.
It was the master-servant contract that transcended cause and effect, one she had believed no one could undo.
But now, someone had forcibly shattered that bond, completely freeing Su Yun from her control.
A trace of panic spread uncontrollably from the depths of her heart, accompanied by an indescribable loss.
She instinctively raised her hand to summon Su Yun as usual, but felt only emptiness.
‘He’s just a slave.’
Mo Qingqing forcibly pinched her palm, trying to suppress that strange emotion.
If he’s gone, he’s gone.
She never lacked obedient servants.
Su Yun was just slightly more to her liking—so what?
Was it because she couldn’t rely on him to become a Dominator?
She quickly dismissed that thought.
Su Yun was certainly talented and had the potential to become a Dominator, but geniuses weren’t limited to just one.
Ah, she must have been playing games too much lately, feeling dazed.
Mo Qingqing forced herself to remain calm, picked up the magic energy drink on the table, and took a sip.
The cold liquid slid down her throat, but couldn’t suppress the restlessness inside.
She told herself repeatedly that it was just losing a slave, no need to make a big deal, but her body went weak uncontrollably—she couldn’t even sit steadily and had to collapse back onto the sofa.
Her gaze fell on the magic terminal, but she no longer had any interest.
The games, comics, and animations that had once absorbed her now felt bland and tasteless.
She wouldn’t be unsettled because of a slave.
She gritted her teeth, turned off the magic terminal, and stood up.
Her steps were unsteady as she walked home, silently repeating inside:
‘I’m just too tired. A good rest will fix it.’
But only she knew that suddenly empty corner made her inexplicably uneasy.
Meanwhile, in the Sovereign of Time’s room.
“It’s done.”
The Sovereign of Time gently rubbed the top of Su Yun’s fluffy little head.
The touch was soft and plush, carrying a subtle tenderness.
Only when Su Yun rubbed against his palm comfortably did he slowly withdraw his hand.
Then, with a wave of his hand, a sleek silver watch appeared out of thin air.
The strap was delicate, fitting perfectly around Su Yun’s wrist.
The watch face had no hands—only a ring of pale blue light flowing with a soft radiance.
“This watch displays the remaining free time. Manage it well.”
He spoke, his tone flat but with an underlying hint of advice.
The Sovereign of Time had his own considerations.
Since Su Yun chose to rewind the timeline, she must have her own plans.
He would have preferred Su Yun to choose the modify-contract option, but he couldn’t interfere too much.
The future Su Yun and Mo Qingqing had become existences capable of affecting the very foundation of time and space.
The more he interfered, the higher the chance of them detecting him.
If he alerted their future selves, they might trace back along the river of time to erase his present self—that would be trouble.
In the future timeline, he had already been conveniently killed off, posing no threat.
They wouldn’t bother with someone who was “already dead.”
The reason he was still safe now was simply because the future versions of them, taking advantage of the fact that Su Yun currently had no murderous intent toward Mo Qingqing, might let them resolve their conflict during their mortal days—perhaps that was the best outcome.
The Sovereign of Time changed the subject and asked:
“You don’t have a place to stay now, do you? After all, you can’t go back to her.”
Su Yun nodded gently, a shadow of sadness flickering in her eyes.
She had always lived under someone else’s roof.
Mo Qingqing’s home was never her home.
Now, with the contract broken, she was truly homeless.
“Then let’s do this.”
The Sovereign of Time produced a warm white jade slab, lightly tapped a finger on its surface, and a faint golden glow appeared, as if performing some spatial binding.
After about half a minute, he put away the slab and said to Su Yun:
“Alright. I bought a house for you next door. The teleportation code is 787845. Consider it a welcome gift from your master.”
“Huh?!”
Su Yun’s head shot up, her eyes instantly brightening with sheer disbelief.
“Th-thank you, Master!!”
She stood up excitedly, body trembling slightly, and her eyes reddened instantly.
Over a decade in this world.
A full decade!
From the moment she had crossed over, she had lived an unsettled life under others’ roofs, cautiously pleasing others and surviving in fear, never daring to hope for a place truly her own.
And now, she finally had her own little sanctuary!
The joy was too intense, nearly making her lose control of her tears.
She could only bite her lip hard to keep them from falling.
The Sovereign of Time saw her eagerness, a gentle smile flickering in his eyes, and his tone softened.
“Go take a look.”
“Mhmm!!”
Su Yun nodded vigorously, then couldn’t help leaning over to gently rub against the Sovereign of Time’s arm, like a little beast that had received its master’s favor, full of dependence and gratitude.
Then, she rushed to the door impatiently, fingers trembling slightly as she entered the teleportation code—787845.
A soft “beep” sounded, the door slowly opened, and a gentle light enveloped her.
The next second, Su Yun appeared before a massive villa.
It was a luxurious mansion no less grand than Mo Qingqing’s.
The design was simple white with light blue decorative lines, appearing clean and cozy.
Outside was a spacious open area, even larger than Mo Qingqing’s courtyard, but currently empty without any decoration.
She pushed the door open and entered.
The interior was equally spacious and bright—living room, dining room, bedroom—everything was there, but the furniture was pitifully scarce.
In the entire large house, only the bedroom had a soft, large bed.
No lavish decorations, no expensive ornaments, not even basic daily necessities.
But Su Yun stood there, her eyes hot, and finally, tears streamed down.
She walked step by step to the bed, sat down gently, and her fingers caressed the soft bedding, feeling this real sense of belonging.
This was not a “cat bed” bestowed by Mo Qingqing, not anyone’s accessory.
This was truly hers—Su Yun’s home.
Over a decade of wandering, of walking on eggshells—in this moment, it all seemed to have meaning.
She curled up on the soft big bed, a brilliant smile spreading across her lips, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.
From today onward, she finally had a place of her own, could finally stop reading others’ expressions, and could finally live for herself.
Only temporary? Dropped