Chapter 40: An Unexpected Incident

In the end, Mu Yin perished together with those people. Her mission remained unfinished, yet she didn’t care. She had provided them with so much; if they still could not save themselves, what more could she do? Having eradicated those vermin, whose souls were now utterly annihilated and could never be reborn, she thought the survivors should be able to manage the aftermath themselves.

When Wan Yuanheng and his companions arrived at the Congxia Base and learned what Mu Yin had done, they were both shocked and grief-stricken. After seeing to her burial, they swiftly and forcefully reorganized the Congxia Base.

Seizing the last opportunity before the depletion of spiritual energy, they joined forces with the remaining humans across the globe to eliminate most of the zombies. Fewer than a tenth remained by the time the true spiritual revival arrived.

With the return of spiritual energy, humans, animals, plants, and even zombies all received a chance to evolve. Life for humanity remained arduous, but there was now a glimmer of hope. With enough effort, they could advance further, finally entering the interstellar era. After all, this world was but a small one: the universe vast, yet only a single planet inhabited.

Once they could set foot in the universe, the world would likely evolve as well, and then other beings might be born elsewhere in the cosmos.

After her death, Mu Yin departed from this world. Before leaving, she placed her phone, full of countless novels, into the temporal key and made it a condition of her mission reward—a request that the Heavenly Dao accepted.

Protected by the temporal key, she traversed the River of Time and Space, about to return to her own body, when a powerful current knocked her aside and swept her into another world. She nearly lost the key but managed to clutch it in time.

Just before plunging through the temporal gate, she caught a glimpse of two figures battling atop the River of Time. The waves they stirred crashed against the barriers of countless worlds, as if heralding the end of days. Though it was only for an instant, Mu Yin saw the distortion of those world-walls upon being struck by the river’s waters—a frightening sight, for world barriers are forged from the very laws of existence.

She wondered what impact this would have on those worlds, and who those two combatants were—how could they battle upon the River of Time, a river composed entirely of the power of law itself?

Uncertain and unable to accept a mission upon entering the new world, Mu Yin had to conceal her presence with the temporal key to avoid detection and judgment by the Heavenly Dao. Here, she dared not use her powers—a single slip might see her expelled from the world or annihilated completely.

This was one of the rules of space she had learned since acquiring the temporal key: she must scrupulously abide by them, for misuse could be fatal.

Thus, after entering a new body, Mu Yin obediently played the role of the original owner, refraining from her previous habit of making sweeping changes. To be fair, she had little choice—she had become a little girl, and in ancient times, no less.

Each morning, she rose early to pay respects to her stepmother, then returned to her courtyard for breakfast. Afterward, she attended the family’s women’s study, a place where the girls of the house learned music, chess, calligraphy, painting, needlework, and household management.

In families of such stature, even daughters of concubines would be married off as main wives to minor officials or newly minted scholars. Their education rivaled that of the men, for the benefits a capable mistress could bring to a house were well understood.

Not knowing when she might leave, Mu Yin applied herself diligently to her studies. She had long wished for a systematic education in painting and calligraphy, and skills in music and chess might prove useful someday.

The only thing that vexed her was the inexplicable failure of her phone stored in her spatial realm; it wouldn’t start, depriving her of the novels she had just begun to enjoy. She found this a pity, for those stories had offered her new perspectives and a way to pass the time.

Mu Yin remained here for three years, growing from nine to twelve. The original owner of the body had drowned by accident, and Mu Yin had entered at the very moment life was extinguished, not three days before, as she would have if on a mission.

Fortunately, the temporal key allowed her to briefly reverse time, reviving the body before true death set in. Otherwise, she could never have restored life; resurrection was impossible once all vitality was lost, unless aided by some rare heavenly treasure.

The original drowning had been a mere accident. In spring, the girls of the household had taken a boat on the lake. It was only a small canopy boat within the family grounds. The original saw a lotus in full bloom, reached for it, and, failing to grasp it, fell into the water.

Though there were rivalries among the sisters, they never crossed the line—at most, their barbs were verbal. This was a well-established family with centuries of tradition. The stepmother, while not affectionate toward the children of concubines, was a proper matron—never cruel, but never indulgent.

Three years passed, and Mu Yin still did not know when she might be able to leave. She dared not use the temporal key rashly, for if the battle on the River of Time and Space was still raging, she might not be so lucky next time.

During these three years, she immersed herself in calligraphy and painting, forbidden from using her powers and left with nothing but study. Unexpectedly, at only twelve years old, her family had already begun arranging marriage prospects for her. Mu Yin could not help but feel a sense of exasperation—was she to spend her entire life here?

Learning this, she could no longer resist and took out her temporal key one night, attempting to check its status. If it opened, all was well; if not, the situation was still dire.

It did open, but the interface displayed a message in bold letters: “World Law Malfunction: Rule Distortion—Correction Needed by All.” The message was cryptic and abrupt.

Checking the task list, Mu Yin’s mouth twitched. Why did those tasks seem so familiar? Several were drawn directly from the plots of novels she’d read.

When had the stories she read become world missions? She recalled the scene she’d glimpsed before entering this world—the tumultuous River of Time and Space, the warped world-walls, and her broken phone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that all this was somehow related to her.

As things now stood, the great battle atop the River of Time and Space had disrupted the laws of many worlds. Because she had been present, she was somehow involved. The distorted laws of those worlds had inadvertently absorbed the novels from her phone, transforming them into the governing principles of those worlds.