“We should head back first.” Fu Changxun called Dandelion over and gently patted its leaves.
The moment he touched them…
Dandelion burst into wails. “Wuwuwu, my poor leafy leaves…”
Being a plant, it had no tears to shed, so it could only howl pathetically, like it was half-dead.
It looked ridiculously dramatic, but if there was one thing Fu Changxun couldn’t handle, it was someone crying. And unfortunately, Dandelion fell right into that grey area—calling it a person was a stretch, but it definitely had a person’s thoughts and emotions.
That awkward middle ground was exactly where his patience wore thin.
“How’s your recovery?” he sighed, checking its leaves up and down several times but finding no visible damage. “Anywhere else hurt?”
The fake sobs gradually faded. After a long pause, Dandelion retracted all its leaves.
It had been faking it, after all—and overacting wouldn’t help.
It gave an awkward little wave. “I’m fine. By the way… where the heck are we now?”
Fu Changxun shrank it down and let it bounce onto his shoulder. “It’s a separate dimension, kinda like the one we brought you from.”
Dandelion: “Waooo.”
Since it hadn’t been released into the real world after leaving the apocalypse instance, it assumed Fu Changxun and the others had to keep hopping from instance to instance—and it couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them.
It waved its tiny flower at Qiu Yi. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ve got your back from now on!”
Fu Changxun: “……”
Qiu Yi couldn’t hear what Dandelion was saying, but judging from its exaggerated gestures, it wasn’t anything dangerous—just acting up.
He quickly reminded him, “I didn’t see a thing back there. What exactly did you see?”
Fu Changxun’s tone turned serious. “I got a look at its face. Its body is covered in shards of glass. The so-called weapon? Just the sharp edges of those fragments. The dark stuff is actually just light reflecting off the glass. So we’re mostly dealing with physical attacks—but yeah, it’s really fast. And there’s one more thing—”
Qiu Yi cut in, “So you’re sure it’s human? Or at least you remember what it looked like?”
“No,” Fu Changxun said slowly, each word deliberate. “I realized… it looks a lot like Xiao Xiao.”
Qiu Yi: “Looks like Xiao Xiao?”
A monster in the instance—whether it was a boss or some kind of NPC—actually looked like Xiao Xiao?
They stared at each other, wide-eyed, both falling into stunned silence.
When the students were finally dismissed, Huang Yue brought Xiao Xiao over to meet them.
Qiu Yi couldn’t help glancing at the little girl’s innocent face, his expression a mess of confusion and doubt. He just couldn’t wrap his head around how she could be connected to the instance.
Huang Yue, still unaware of what had just happened, asked, “You guys okay? Did you run into the monster?”
While she wasn’t looking, Fu Changxun quickly stuffed Dandelion down into the collar of his school uniform, then replied, “Yeah, we saw it. I got a good look at its appearance, but…”
He paused. “It looks human. Covered in shards of glass.”
Huang Yue’s brows knit into a deep frown. “Glass? Like glued on, or…?”
Before Fu Changxun could answer, Qiu Yi jumped in, “Stabbed in. Right, Doc?”
He was worried that Doctor Fu might blurt out the part about the monster resembling Xiao Xiao. Huang Yue didn’t seem like a threat, but still.
But Qiu Yi needn’t have worried. Fu Changxun wouldn’t reveal something that sensitive to someone they didn’t fully trust.
Even telling Qiu Yi had been a calculated decision—one he only made after being certain the man would keep it confidential.
He nodded. “Stabbed into the body. But it doesn’t seem to feel pain. I don’t think it’s an NPC. It might be the boss behind one of this instance’s five strange tales. Now that we’ve got a direction, things should get easier.”
There were still two class periods left that afternoon. After a quick discussion, they decided to all get “punished” together during the third period and set up an even tighter trap than before.
Since the strange tales couldn’t be cracked through information alone, they had to go after the boss directly.
And if killing it turned out to be the key to clearing the instance? So be it.
“Let’s head back to class for now. Take a breather.”
Qiu Yi clapped Fu Changxun on the shoulder. He was still slightly out of breath. “We’ll definitely get it next time. No rush—it’s only the first day.”
They had ten days total in the instance. Five strange tales. Averaging two days per story, they’d still be right on schedule.
Fu Changxun murmured an “mm” and led Xiao Xiao back to the third-floor classroom, his mind weighed down with worry.
Since it was still break time, the three players weren’t as tense as they were during class.
When they saw him come back in one piece, the player who’d been badly injured earlier was visibly stunned. After hesitating for a long while, he finally couldn’t help himself and ran over. “Ge, how the hell did you shake it off?”
He’d spent all his Points frantically exchanging for defensive items—burned through everything—and still had his gear destroyed one by one, barely escaping with his life.
Fu Changxun gave him a half-smile, half-smirk. “Wanna know? Then team up with me.”
The guy looked back at his two temporary allies—Buzz Cut and Glasses—then turned back to Fu Changxun.
One side preached cautious development—Buzz Cut and Glasses were both extremely conservative. The other side had this mysterious, strong-looking player, who might actually be a big deal…
He hesitated, torn. In the end, he turned away and went to discuss it with the other two.
“I think he’s actually strong,” the player said quietly.
Buzz Cut: “That was just dumb luck.”
Glasses: “Tch. He probably just had a ton of Points and bought a bunch of stuff. But seriously—why go looking for trouble like that? Does he want to fight a boss head-on? That’s just asking to die.”
Buzz Cut: “What if he’s streaming? Would explain why he’s got so many items.”
Glasses glanced at Fu Changxun, then sneered, “Could be. He looks like a pretty boy. Bet he’s got plenty of fans who’d send him gifts.”
The longer they talked, the more ridiculous it got. The player who’d nearly died in the first encounter realized how stupid he’d been to team up with them in the first place. Without hesitation, he decided to ditch them and “switch sides.”
Before he could speak, the class bell rang—and all the NPCs fell silent once more.
It was another stifling, oppressive lesson. Fu Changxun continued paying attention, listening carefully.
That didn’t stop him from pulling a few quiet stunts on the side, but the teacher either ignored them or let them slide like water off a raincoat.
So that was it. Paying attention in class really did win favor with teacher NPCs. Maybe his reputation boost from earlier instances was still in effect too. Just like that, Fu Changxun had discovered one of the best ways to farm NPC affection.
Still, having high favor wasn’t always a good thing—like now, during third period, he couldn’t even get punished with a trip to the hallway.
“Can I at least go to the restroom?” With no other choice, he resorted to that final excuse.
It worked this time, and he was allowed out. But after pacing through the hallway, the monster was nowhere to be found. Xiao Xiao and Huang Yue came out too—also with nothing to report.
Dandelion cackled and was promptly dragged out by Fu Changxun and tossed into monster-hunting duty.
“This doesn’t make sense…”
“Did we scare it off last time?”
“Should we split up?”
“No no no, what if the moment we split, it shows up? Then we’re all screwed…”
They passed classroom after classroom. Inside, the NPC students sat upright and stiff, but they were lifeless, eerie, radiating a terrifying, suffocating atmosphere.
Finally, in the supply room, they spotted traces of the monster—scattered shards of glass, dropped for no apparent reason.
Then, it appeared—charging straight at them like a black orb studded with sequins. But it didn’t get far before slamming into the defensive barrier they’d prepared.
As the monster furiously tore into their defenses, getting closer with each second, Qiu Yi stared hard at its face—and realized it really did look like Xiao Xiao.
Despite the sharp fragments obscuring most of its features, you could still vaguely tell—it was a woman.
It took less than ten minutes to destroy all their defensive tools. Then, without hesitation, it launched a full-on attack.
But they were ready too—ready to either trap or kill it.
“Mama!” Xiao Xiao suddenly shouted. “I’ve seen her in photos!”
She pumped her tiny legs and dashed forward, her small figure throwing itself in front of the terrifying monster, waving her arms frantically. “No! No no no! Don’t kill her!”
Fu Changxun froze.
He’d suspected there might be a connection between the monster and Xiao Xiao, but he’d only considered it from the perspective of the instance. He hadn’t thought about Xiao Xiao’s real-world background—after all, he’d only ever met Xu Zhengyi. Xiao Xiao’s mother had died in childbirth.
Huang Yue shouted in panic, “It’s dangerous! Xiao Xiao, come back now!”
She didn’t know anything about Xiao Xiao’s past—her concern was purely instinctive, driven by fear for the child.
And then something utterly shocking happened—the monster, mid-charge, suddenly slowed down. Just as the glinting shards were about to slice into Xiao Xiao, it stopped.
Its face was clouded with confusion. Even its outstretched hand, covered in embedded glass, froze in midair.
Maybe it realized it could hurt her. Maybe it remembered her. Either way, it didn’t touch her. It stopped one centimeter away. Its expression grew even more bewildered.
Yes—a monster, wearing a face full of confusion.
Xiao Xiao whispered, “Mama?”
She slowly reached out and lightly touched the one fingernail not covered in shards.
Just that gentle tap made the monster jolt like it’d been electrocuted.
Fu Changxun murmured under his breath, “Xiao Xiao’s mom died in childbirth—she was twenty-six. Xu Zhengyi never told me… Could her mother have been a high school teacher?”
If that were true… then how did she end up as a monster in this instance?
What happened to her?
And how had she recognized Xiao Xiao?
Xiao Xiao had no idea what the adults were thinking. She just remembered the wedding photo her dad had shown her—pictures of her parents together.
She’d never met her mother. All she had were the stories her father told—“Your mom was really beautiful, really gentle… but strict when she worked.”
If her mom really had been a teacher, then that matched.
Moved by instinct, she pulled out an item she’d never used before: the [Pencil Sharpener], a tool that couldn’t harm real objects. She fixed her gaze on her “mom” and, summoning all her courage, started scraping the glass off.
Those shards that had seemed fused to the flesh—embedded like they were part of her—began falling away in huge, glittering clumps with each scrape.
