Chapter Two: Entering the Game for the First Time

In a KTV filled with the mingled scents of beer and cheap perfume, Gouzi and Jidou were shouting at the top of their lungs, while the rest of their friends played dice games, guessing high and low. Qin Xiaomo sat alone in a corner, dejectedly gnawing on a spicy duck claw. Jidou glanced over at her, put down the microphone, and sat beside her, grabbing a mojito and taking a long, hard sip before nudging Qin Xiaomo with her elbow.

“Hey, you look just like you did after Jiang Lang dumped you in sophomore year,” Jidou said.

“Don’t mention that scumbag,” Qin Xiaomo replied.

“You never told us why you broke up with him. Why?” Jidou asked, scooping up a handful of sunflower seeds, her face full of curiosity and ready for a good story.

Qin Xiaomo was silent for a while, then picked up a mojito, downed it in one gulp, wiped her mouth, and said, “He had three other girlfriends.”

“What the hell!” Jidou’s worldview was shattered.

“And each one had their own role,” Qin Xiaomo added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“So… you were the cook?” Jidou ventured.

Qin Xiaomo shot her a glare and sighed. “I really was!”

Jidou suddenly leaned in closer, whispering in Qin Xiaomo’s ear, “Let me tell you a secret.”

“Hm?”

“I put that scumbag in the game too.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

“I didn’t dare tell you before, afraid you’d yell at me, but now… heh.”

Qin Xiaomo frowned in thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. She turned to Jidou with a knowing look. “Is it… that character…?”

“That’s the one!” Jidou replied, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Late at night, in Qin Xiaomo’s apartment, the air conditioner hummed loudly.

“Xiaomo, I can’t keep my eyes open anymore,” Jidou complained, sprawled across Qin Xiaomo’s cool, pink cotton comforter with black stripes, her eyes bloodshot and barely kept open.

“Then… you go sleep,” Qin Xiaomo said.

Hearing this, Jidou leapt up as if granted amnesty, hurried to the door, and called, “Good night,” without even looking back.

Qin Xiaomo glanced around, still a bit uneasy, but hearing Jidou’s thunderous snores from the next room, she felt reassured. Since she couldn’t sleep, she opened her laptop to check out the game.

As soon as she logged in, she saw an old man with a white beard smiling at her. “Recently, the cities have waged war over spiritual treasures, and in the chaos, they accidentally punched a hole in the Netherworld Palace—letting all the demons and monsters escape…” At this, Qin Xiaomo hit “skip.”

The old man continued, “You’ve traveled far to Jingxu City. Since it’s our first meeting, let me give you a gift.” Suddenly, a gift box appeared in her inventory: a beginner’s set—a white gauze dress and a wooden staff.

“Ah, the same old routine,” she muttered. Whether it was because she was tired or just bored with the game, she shut down her computer and went to sleep. Lying in bed with her eyes closed, she was quickly overtaken by a dizzying wave of exhaustion and drifted off completely.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the crisp chirping of birds reached her ears. A fresh blend of grass, earth, and the sweet scent of unknown flowers filled her nose. Qin Xiaomo, eyes still closed, greedily inhaled a few more times before opening her eyes slowly.

It was just after five in the morning. Mist curled around the stone path at the edge of a forest. The sky was a deep blue, tinged with a faint purple-red glow on the horizon as the sun was about to rise.

“Why am I up so early? I’ll sleep a bit more,” Qin Xiaomo murmured, closing her eyes again. But after a moment, her eyes snapped open and she sat up straight, glancing around with relief. “Ah, dreaming again. But this dream captures the essence of ‘Raindrops moisten things as delicately as butter, the color of the grass blends with the mist, barely visible.’ I’ve had this dream since childhood—it’s all too familiar.”

She stood, patted the dust from her clothes, stretched lazily, and said, “It’s been twenty years since I last breathed such clean air, living in the city so long. Even if it’s just in a dream, it’s a pleasure.” She decided to do some morning exercises.

Dreams, she mused, are always clearest at the moment of waking, but even if you try your hardest to remember, after a while you’re left with only a few fragments, which eventually fade. That’s why she kept a leather-bound notebook by her bed, to record her dreams—names, places, settings, stories—though sometimes she’d jot down a name and forget the rest.

After finishing her exercises, Qin Xiaomo looked around carefully. She was standing amidst a grove of willows, their green glow shimmering faintly, surrounding a memorial archway about fifty meters away. Two strings of red lanterns hung from the arch, but the words were too distant to read clearly. Below the arch were two stone lantern towers. “Huh, this is just like the one I made in the game.”

Qin Xiaomo walked toward the arch. About ten meters away, an old man with a white beard appeared out of nowhere and said, “Qin Xiaomo, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. At last, you’re here.”

Startled, Qin Xiaomo instinctively took a step back. “Thank goodness I didn’t give up,” she thought. Was this some kind of code? “Why are you waiting for me? How do you know my name?”

“Recently, the cities have battled fiercely for spiritual treasures, accidentally tearing a hole in the Netherworld Palace, letting all its monsters escape into the world. The heavens, unwilling to see the mortal realm plunged into bloody chaos, have sent an envoy to subdue the demons and restore peace.”

Qin Xiaomo’s eyes widened. “Isn’t this the opening speech from the game? Even though I skipped it before bed, I still remember it. But this is my dream… how can it be the same as the game? Have I played so much that I’m losing my mind? So… if I’m in the game, he’ll give me a gift next.”

The old man continued, “Since you’ve journeyed to Jingxu City, it’s only proper I give you a gift.” As he spoke, a bundle appeared in his hands containing a beginner’s set—a white gauze dress and a wooden staff.

Qin Xiaomo’s eyes went wide and her jaw nearly dropped. She waved her hands in protest. “No, no, sir, I can’t accept such a valuable gift when we’ve just met. Please, how do I get home?”

“You are heaven’s chosen, sent to save the world—how can you simply leave?” the old man said, pressing the bundle into her hands.

Qin Xiaomo turned to look at him. “Sir, can I ask you something?” she said timidly.

“Go ahead.”

“Is this… inside the game?”

The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully, nodded slowly, and fell silent. Seeing him nod, Qin Xiaomo’s heart sank. There were so many wild beasts and magical creatures in the game—how exhausting this dream would be.

“In a way, that’s a fine perspective on the human world,” the old man finally said after a long pause.

Qin Xiaomo was exasperated. “Sir, can you just talk straight and drop the expressions?”

He laughed heartily. “You’re quite amusing. Come see me again next time—I’ll treat you to tea.”

At that moment, Qin Xiaomo suddenly remembered that when designing the game, it was Jidou who’d named this character, said to be the mentor of the Primeval Lord of Heaven—what was his name again?

“Are you Sage Hongjun?” Qin Xiaomo asked nervously.

“That’s me,” the old man replied, and vanished, leaving only a string of laughter echoing in the air.

“Sir, don’t go! I have one last question—where am I?” Qin Xiaomo called anxiously to the sky.

“This is the Celestial Realm of Cloud Spirits—Jingxu City!” a reverberating voice answered from above.

Qin Xiaomo walked to the arch and saw three golden characters on the plaque: Jingxu City.