Chapter 5: Starting the Game

Yun Qimu was inwardly satisfied. She lifted her beautiful eyes and, smiling, looked at Fei Jie. “This gentleman just invited me to travel together, but I’m tired and don’t feel like walking anymore. I’m really sorry.”

“N-no problem at all.”

Fei Jie straightened his sweat-soaked back, forcing a smile as he said, “Since Miss Yun doesn’t want to go, we’ll head off first. I hope I’m lucky enough to see the beautiful Miss Yun again in the future.”

Not forgetting his gentlemanly manners, he turned and left with Ma Kang, who had been impatient to go for a while.

The others glanced at Yun Qimu with some apprehension. After a brief hesitation, they also dispersed.

Yun Qimu watched Fei Jie’s departing figure, the corners of her lips curving with meaning.

In the distance, the explosion of the spaceship’s self-destruction thundered, flames lighting up the air and making the gray sky considerably brighter.

Retracting her gaze, Yun Qimu turned around—only to meet Yun Xiaoyu’s sparkling, twinkling eyes.

“When did you learn to use a dagger?” the little one asked excitedly.

Yun Qimu raised an eyebrow, stroking her chin as if in thought. “Probably in a dream.”

Yun Xiaoyu’s little face fell, lips pouting, clearly displeased.

“Hmph, you’re just teasing me. Dad says you’re a genius, but you’ve always been sickly and asleep. How could you possibly learn dagger skills in a dream?”

In Yun Xiaoyu’s mind, his second sister was just a pretty but dopey blockhead who did nothing but sleep or stare off into space.

“I’m not lying. I really did learn it in a dream.”

Yun Qimu’s lips curled up. After confirming that Yun Dad, Yun Little Brother, and this world she’d dreamed of before were all real, she decided this was reality—and the world she’d died in before was now just a dream.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Wherever she was, nothing would get in the way of her retirement.

She’d always been a laid-back, go-with-the-flow type—one with some real skills, too. Even on this infamously notorious Exile Star, she wasn’t afraid.

Just look at that junkyard in the distance—she could instantly pick out anything useful or modifiable, and in three seconds flat, she could come up with a perfect plan or two (or three or four) for a happy, comfortable life here.

A world with no missions, no sweet-talking subordinates pestering her for help, nothing to disturb her peaceful retirement—what could be better?

However...

[Ding—Host confirmed to have arrived on Earth. Game system activating. Welcome, host, to Earth. Please join in the construction of Earth Village.]

The smile froze on Yun Qimu’s lips. What the hell?

But her confusion lasted only a moment. She quickly and rationally extracted the key points from the mechanical voice that had suddenly appeared in her mind.

“Earth Village Construction? Don’t tell me that Earth Revival game I used to play has followed me here?”

[Correct. I am the game’s main AI, Tiandao. From now on, I will assist the host in transforming Exile Star, reviving ancient culture, and rebuilding a beautiful Earth. As the chosen one, you should feel honored by your good fortune.]

Yun Qimu: ...Not feeling honored at all, thanks!

The truth was, Yun Qimu came from 150 years in the future.

By then, the empire that had split into eight royal factions had unified once more, ushering in a revival of ancient culture.

The game “Earth Revival,” with its strong traditional culture theme, had become a national pastime, beloved by young and old alike.

After Yun Qimu’s body collapsed and she retired to wait for death, she spent all her time playing this game.

She chose the farming and retirement mode: planting vegetables, fishing, following in-game recipes to make retro delicacies, and spending her afternoons basking in the sun on a rocking chair. Life couldn’t have been better.

But that didn’t mean she thought the game was good.

During her retirement, she often browsed the forums to pass the time. Back then, the forums were full of players howling and cursing the main AI, calling the game trash, venting their frustrations in endless posts, with new creative insults popping up every day.

Later, the main AI cracked down, banning and censoring the worst offenders. But the players, tormented by the game, just found new, more creative ways to curse the AI—without using any actual profanity.

In short, the main AI, which set the game’s difficulty and plotted its storylines, was absolutely not a good thing.

It was a sadistic AI that could torment players until they cried for their parents, drove them to poverty, and, in the worst cases, forced them to sell their looks in brothels just to survive.

So, being “chosen” was nothing to be proud of. Yun Qimu refused without hesitation.

“No, no, no. I’m just a retired old lady. I really don’t want this honor of starting the game.”

The mechanical voice in her mind glitched for a moment, then coldly and mercilessly declared: [Since the host refuses to start the game, I will reclaim the energy stored in your body. Please prepare for death. Initiating death countdown: 10, 9...]

“Wait, wait!” Yun Qimu’s scalp tingled as she hurriedly shouted, “Why is this game so overbearing? You’ll kill me just for not starting the game?”

[Not at all. Your body was poisoned with Rouge Drunk and should have died twenty minutes and thirty-eight seconds ago. It was only the energy I provided that suppressed the toxin and kept you alive. If you start the game, you can earn Spirit Coins to exchange for antidote and restore your health. With the game’s help, your body will also never collapse from excessive mental power like before.]

Yun Qimu’s eyes darkened.

Rouge Drunk—the so-called “most beautiful poison” in the interstellar world, and the number one synthetic human toxin.

Those poisoned die painlessly, their appearance enhanced to stunning beauty, their corpse preserved for hundreds of years without decay.

This poison was originally created by a lovesick emperor of the Norman Empire for his beloved but unfaithful empress—to preserve her youthful beauty and keep her by his side forever.

Later, Rouge Drunk became a weapon for certain twisted souls who couldn’t have the ones they loved.

Yun Qimu frowned. Who hated her this much?

But regardless, the main AI had indeed found her weakness. Her greatest lifelong wish was to have a healthy body.

Yet, whether in her previous life or this one, her body had never been as healthy as she wished.

She’d felt the weakness in this body just now when she killed that skinny sneak attacker.

Narrowing her eyes, she moistened her dry lips. “Let me ask one more question. If you answer, I’ll agree to start the game. I’m sure you don’t want to lose your only suitable host, do you?”

She deliberately emphasized “only.” The mechanical voice stalled for nearly thirty seconds before finally spitting out two words: [Ask away.]

Even through its coldness, she could sense its frustration."