“Big harvest~” Repressed Desire Reflection whistled. “This is the reward of the brave.”
Brave? You mean reaching out to squeeze those big bunnies?
Anyone who knew the context understood Shen Ning was climbing Xu Chuyao’s personal peaks. Those who didn’t might think she had conquered Mount Everest.
But truthfully, it was a big harvest. The first reward perfectly compensated for her earlier weakness—if she returned to the Commerce Plaza battle now, she definitely wouldn’t be struggling with energy reserves anymore.
Her previous two skills—one an AoE spirit storm, the other a single-target spirit burst—were like equipping her with a grenade launcher rifle. Once the ammo ran out, things got awkward. But now, the Invisible Blade was like a tactical dagger. Only now did her personal combat kit feel complete.
The second skill… Shen Ning hadn’t encountered the kind of situation where it’d be useful yet, so she didn’t feel much difference, but it sounded powerful in the description.
As for completing all the 3-star milestones: the achievement points weren’t something she’d casually spend unless it was a very special case.
Don’t ask why. Just look at the two reflections squabbling on the glass window—fighting for space like it’s rush hour.
But the realm breakthrough—that was crucial. Even though it was just from Mid-Stage Tier 2 to Late-Stage Tier 2, Shen Ning could clearly feel that her spirit energy reserve had more than doubled.
After checking her rewards, Shen Ning was in such a good mood that she finally had time to walk over to the window and listen to her two alternate-timeline selves bicker.
“As the saying goes—strike while the iron is hot,” said Repressed Reflection. “She’s finally gained momentum today, so now’s the time to launch a blitzkrieg on the milestone system and push all the way to 5-star!”
Broken Reflection countered, “But haste makes waste. She’s already gained so much today, and the further the milestones go, the harder the challenges become. It’s better to consolidate first.”
“What’s there to consolidate?” Repressed Reflection snapped. “After today’s breakthrough, she’s transcended. She can finish any mission in one go. Right?”
“…I think we should at least look at the 4-star missions before we decide.”
With the two reflections staring at her, Shen Ning silently opened the system and entered the Milestone interface.
ComplexStringWithÄÖÜandotherUnicodeCharactersDear Host, you have completed all 3-star milestone missions. 4-star level officially unlocked.
ComplexStringWithÄÖÜandotherUnicodeCharactersFirst 4-star Milestone: First Sip of Tea
“I take a gentle sip—you call it love.”
WHAT?!
Shen Ning’s eyelids twitched violently, and the heat on her pretty face started to rise. “I remember this was called the Regret Compensation System, right?”
This counts as a regret too?!
“W-Why wouldn’t it?” Repressed Reflection replied, clearly bluffing. “Come on, only those who endure bitterness can taste sweetness. Besides, maybe it is sweet.”
That’s not the issue here?!
“Don’t jump the gun,” Broken Reflection interjected. “There are conditions.”
Indeed, starting from the 4-star level, the missions had more detailed requirements—no longer rough like before. For example, this first 4-star task:
ComplexStringWithÄÖÜandotherUnicodeCharactersRequirement: Top-Quality Goods — Only in joy can good quality be produced.
Shen Ning looked at Repressed Reflection. Broken Reflection also turned to her. But she just shook her head:
“Don’t look at me. I’m only good at brutally plowing fields, not this. Go study with your little app.”
“…”
Looks like it’s time for some girly self-study.
(PS: “Sip of tea” is a poetic euphemism for kissing or intimate touching in Chinese literature.)
ComplexStringWithÄÖÜandotherUnicodeCharacters[Trashfish, meeting in the activity room tomorrow. See? Having a phone is convenient. I told you to buy one. Also, I’m still mad about yesterday. Only a box of chocolate milk will fix it.]
The girl turned and looked across the classroom. The thunder-girl winked at her, clearly meaning: Saw my message, right? Take it seriously. Don’t forget.
That’s right—it was class time. And yes, Shen Ning was playing on her phone. But that wasn’t a big deal. In the back row, little Snow was even organizing newspapers as if no one else was around.
This class was a Culture Studies period. Teacher Li Xueli stood at the podium, trying very hard to walk everyone through key concepts for the final exam. But this year’s passing score for culture was even lower than usual, so it didn’t feel urgent.
40 out of 100 to pass.
Good students didn’t need to listen.
Bad students didn’t want to.
Shen Ning propped her chin on one hand, daydreaming while staring out the window—like she always did in this class. In the past, she’d sit through culture lessons thinking about her old life, the rattling, clanking mining fields of home.
Now, though, her mind wandered toward… how to sip that top-quality tea from her girlfriend.
The reflections weren’t helpful. Among her friends, the only one who might have experience was Li Renhao, but this was way too pervy to even ask.
In the end, she just studied in the app. Repressed Reflection couldn’t help directly, but she had pulled together a whole stash of reference material for Shen Ning to learn from.
Looking at Teacher Li Xueli up on the podium, Shen Ning suddenly noticed a resemblance: both of them were digging through a sea of information. One selected a few key points from textbooks for finals. The other searched through an endless ocean of “notebooks” for positions and techniques.
“Not the same,” said Repressed Reflection in the window. “The stuff for finals is meaningless. The knowledge in those notebooks will benefit you for life.”
Meaningless? Then how do you end up spouting literary lines like you do?
“That’s from spending time with Chuyao. Prolonged exposure. Has nothing to do with Culture class.”
Eventually, as the bell rang, Teacher Li Xueli wrapped up what she believed to be an amazing pre-exam lecture and happily dismissed class.
“Everyone, remember to study hard tonight!”
Whether they would or not was debatable—but for now, class was over. Yet the classroom wasn’t much different from how it was during class… or maybe more accurately, it had always been like this.
Everyone doing their own thing. Shen Ning pulled out her phone again, thumb hovering over the app, scrolling briefly, but eventually backing out.
It wasn’t something she wanted to view in public. She had watched it alone in her dorm—and even then, her face got hot, and her body felt strange.
Better to see what her friends were doing instead.
Just as she turned around, she heard Little Snow’s loud laughter.
“What’s up with you?”
The curly-haired boy was holding a newspaper, a few more spread across his desk. The front pages were cut into neat squares, like a 3×3 grid. Hearing her question, he looked up, eyes sparkling:
“You know I’ve been tracking the disappearances in the border zones, right?”
“Yeah,” Shen Ning recalled, “I remember you said you could only find occasional reports in underground tabloids.”
So why were there so many on the table now?
“Exactly. That was the case. But now something big happened—and then something happened within that big thing.”
Little Snow held up a copy of The Central City Daily—the most mainstream paper in town.
“A few days ago, the Commerce Plaza incident made such a splash that even I bought copies to read. Normally, I don’t care about mainstream news, but since you were involved—and you’re my friend—I paid attention. But soon I realized something: while the headlines focused on your team’s victory and achievements, the casualties and losses were barely mentioned. I figured the paper would handle it in one of two ways: either gloss over it quickly or distract readers with another headline.”
He tapped the paper from three days ago. “I was right—it was the second one. And the story they chose to distract with was the border disappearance cases!”
You’d think a terrorist attack in Central City, killing dozens of civilians, would dominate the news. But no—they said: Relax, folks. Forget that. Instead, look at this spooky mystery—border towns and villages where people are vanishing for no reason. See? We’re not doing so bad in the city after all.
“But then comes the really interesting part.” Little Snow lowered his voice and looked around. “The next day, the disappearance story was front-page news. But by the third day—it vanished. Completely. That means the higher-ups or the paper’s backers initially agreed to use the missing person stories as a distraction. But then—someone realized the truth behind the disappearances was even more explosive than the attack.”