“008, tell me—has anyone in history ever truly completed the mission and been reborn?”
In the system space, Ye Shaohua noticed she wasn’t immediately sent to the next mission. She fell silent for a moment before turning to 008.
Hearing this, 008 also paused.
After a long while, it finally spoke.
[From the moment we came into existence until now, there have been 19,000 task-takers—all meticulously selected. But without exception, they either became lost in the mission worlds or failed and were erased by the system. The success rate is virtually zero. I’ve had 300 hosts before you. You’re the 309th.]
The numbers didn’t surprise Ye Shaohua.
Yet, they still sent a chill down her spine. She knew the system would only choose individuals of exceptional ability. But even so, the success rate remained near zero.
[Host, you have to believe me—you’re the most suitable candidate I’ve ever encountered for system missions.] 008 glanced at her meaningfully.
From the moment it took her on, 008 had sensed she harbored secrets.
After three hundred hosts, she was the only one so unnervingly composed.
What’s more, she seemed to possess boundless potential, adapting effortlessly to any world. At this thought, 008—currently manifesting as a small child—narrowed its eyes.
“Understood. Next mission,” Ye Shaohua replied flatly.
At the same time, a familiar electronic voice chimed in her ear:
[Ding! Completion of three main missions rewarded with 500 points! Congratulations, Host, on receiving 500 points!]
[Ding! System 008 at your service. 500 points have been credited. Host may now claim additional mission rewards.]
Ye Shaohua realized she was still in the system space.
She raised an eyebrow at 008, who met her gaze and said softly:
[First mandatory mission initiated: Modern World of Feng Shui Masters. As a beginner’s benefit for mandatory missions, the Host may choose to remain in the system space for training or proceed directly to the mission world.]
“Feng Shui Masters?” Ye Shaohua narrowed her eyes. She’d been to magic worlds before. If she’d once been a staunch materialist, even she couldn’t explain her own existence now.
She’d heard of feng shui masters in the modern world but had never interacted with them.
What puzzled her most was the mandatory mission—one that actually allowed preparation time. She knew this mission must be perilous; otherwise, the system wouldn’t grant her such leeway.
Without hesitation, she accessed the system store and spent 200 points on a stack of feng shui books.
[Host, once purchased, these books are yours to keep. You can take them into the mission world.] 008 reminded her.
Ye Shaohua nodded and immersed herself in studying feng shui, her focus unbroken.
Time in the system space stood still, but if converted, she had maintained the same posture for nearly ten years—a duration that unsettled even 008, further convincing it of her uniqueness.
008 observed quietly, not daring to interrupt. It remembered its first host, a genius who had been overconfident during his first mandatory mission—his soul had vanished in that supernatural world.
Later, given priority in selection, it had chosen steadier hosts. Some had stayed with it for years, yet one by one, they too had disappeared, their missions incomplete.
This was the 309th.
Truthfully, when 008 first met Ye Shaohua, it hadn’t paid much attention, jaded by experience. Her lazy attitude had even made it doubt she’d survive the first mission.
Yet the longer they worked together, the more it believed in her.
She might just become the first to complete the system’s tasks and return to the real world.
Finally, one day, a cool voice broke the silence:
“Begin the next mission.”
…
Mission World
When Ye Shaohua woke again, a sharp pain throbbed in her wrist.
She sat up, dizziness washing over her, and glanced down at the wound.
“Damn. So this body tried to kill itself.”
Pushing open the bedroom door, she took in the apartment’s layout—and immediately felt a headache coming on.
She hadn’t even received the mission details yet, but the feng shui of this place was disastrous.
The entire unit was rectangular. In feng shui, the most important principle is “Heaven is round, Earth is square.” The roof represents Heaven, the dwelling represents Earth—an idea reflected in ancient architecture. The most obvious example? Ancient coins, cast based on this very concept.
No wonder many feng shui masters used coins as talismans, and Taoist priests wielded them to ward off spirits.
But the apartment she was in? A long, narrow rectangle. The bedroom was tiny, while the kitchen was absurdly large. The living room and bedroom were enclosed, clashing in a way that would drain the occupants’ luck over time.
And right across the front door? The bathroom.
In feng shui, facing a bathroom upon entry is a major taboo. Most architects consult feng shui experts—even shopping malls place restrooms on the sides, avoiding direct alignment.
Why? Because the foul energy from bathrooms disrupts wealth and prosperity.
Some people feel an inexplicable chill in certain places or suffer chronic fatigue—only to recover when they leave. This is often the reason.
The original owner, ignorant of feng shui, had done nothing to counteract the negative energy.
Living here long-term would worsen health, luck, and finances—and worse, attract unclean entities.
Even in modern society, architects knew better. Contractors always hired feng shui masters. How could a place like this exist?
Now she understood why she’d felt so off upon waking.
Frowning, she moved to open a window—when a knock sounded at the door.
Outside stood a strikingly handsome young man, exhaustion lining his face. Seeing her alive, he sighed in relief.
“Shaohua, I know you’re kind. I know you work hard. Plenty of people at school like you—if not me, others will pursue you. But I’ve had enough. You keep saying you ‘see things.’ Do you realize everyone thinks you’re mentally ill?”
“You pour all your energy into studying. I’m tired of it. Every evening, you refuse to go out. Every date, it’s just the library. I want a normal relationship—someone like Yilin, who’ll actually be there for me, not a ‘psycho.’”
“Let’s break up. And don’t threaten me with suicide again. This is the last time I’m coming to see you.”
With that, he rushed downstairs as if afraid she’d stop him—finally free of his burden.
