Chapter 4: The Moment I Let Go, the World Suddenly Opened Up

“Miss Bai, these are your belongings.”

She took the dead phone and sports wristband from the hands of a few of the flesh-girl survivors—items that had accompanied her through her journey. A wave of dizziness surged straight to her brow. The sensation was not unfamiliar to Bai Xian. She had felt this same vertigo when the Green-Covered Book had first brought her to this world. It seemed that, upon completing her task, she would be returned to Earth.

“Big sister Bai, aren’t you leaving with us?” Ma Xiaowei asked anxiously. “It would be safer if we all looked after each other.”

Several hours had passed since the dog demon and the woman had been killed. Dawn was breaking, the first rays of sunlight about to pierce the sky. Dozens of the flesh-girl survivors had gathered the supplies from the dog demon’s lair and were preparing to cross the dense forest back to the world of humans.

Bai Xian shook her head and took half a wild vegetable bun from her pocket, pressing it into Ma Xiaowei’s hand. She was about to return to Earth; there was no use keeping the last of her provisions.

No matter how much they tried to persuade her, she remained firm. With parting words of caution and care, the group set off toward the rising sun.

Bai Xian watched until the last girl vanished into the depths of the forest, her gaze filled with reluctant pity. With only a general direction and limited supplies, in a world teeming with demons and evil, the odds of these girls making it out were slim unless a miracle occurred.

Yet staying here meant certain death as well. It was better to take the risk—perhaps there was a sliver of hope.

The next moment, dizziness overtook her once more. Unable to remain conscious, her vision faded to black.

…

When consciousness returned to her body, her senses reconnected with her mind.

The first thing she saw was the glow of a computer screen, her familiar single bed, and the small studio apartment.

“I’m really back!”

Her voice trembled with excitement as it echoed in the room. But as the words left her lips, Bai Xian froze.

Why was it still a girl’s voice?

Instinctively, she reached down between her legs—nothing was there.

She glanced down, and through her baggy shirt collar, saw two budding curves on her chest.

Unwilling to believe it, she hurried to the bathroom and flipped on the mirror light.

In the half-length mirror, a delicate, fair-skinned young woman stared back at her. She looked sixteen or seventeen, with black hair, red lips, and beautiful, slightly panicked eyes—vulnerable and lovely.

It was a face that perfectly fit Bai Xian’s own standards of beauty.

Unfortunately, the mirror before her reflected not someone else, but herself—she was now that heart-stirring girl!

She reached up and pinched her face; the girl in the mirror did the same, kneading her own cheeks until they flushed red and stung with pain.

Finally, Bai Xian collapsed onto the single bed, staring blankly at the ceiling light.

A twenty-four-year-old newly employed wage-slave, who not only traveled to another world overnight and slew a dog demon, but now was turned into a dainty girl—who was she supposed to complain to?

But when she recalled the moment she crushed the dog demon, Bai Xian let out a slow, steadying breath.

“Well… since I’m here, I’ll make the best of it. Surviving and coming back is already a miracle; the rest of my life is just a bonus…”

To be honest, she’d had no confidence the homemade bomb would work. In the end, it was more luck than skill that triggered the explosion. If she tried again, she’d probably make nothing but a dud.

Thinking of the dog demon, Bai Xian, who had just lain down, shot upright again.

“Almost forgot about the Green-Covered Book!”

With a thought, the familiar ancient tome appeared before her eyes. The yellow-brown pages fluttered without wind and stopped on the page with the dog demon and Yang Ma.

[Target: Dog Demon, Completed]

[Reward: Dragon Emergence]

[Target: Yang Ma, Completed]

[Reward: Yang Ma’s Private Stash]

[6 days, 23 hours, 50 minutes, 25 seconds]

The countdown ticked away methodically, indicating the time limit before her next forced journey.

The relaxation she’d just begun to feel now twisted into anxiety once more.

She plugged in her long-dead phone and glanced at the time displayed when it booted up: July 25th, 11:15 AM, Wednesday.

She’d spent three entire days in the otherworld, yet only three hours had passed on Earth!

“So time flows differently between the worlds. I wonder if one hour here means a whole day there?”

Having been through so much, Bai Xian calmly accepted the discrepancy.

She casually opened WeChat; a barrage of popups and dozens of unread messages flooded the screen. Most were company group chats, a few from closer colleagues expressing concern, and a string of haughty, idiotic messages from her boss.

[Where the hell are you?]

[Are you still working? If not, there are plenty who will!]

[If anything goes wrong with this project, you’re solely responsible…]

[I’ve reported your absence. Three days’ pay docked. Forget about your year-end bonus…]

She quickly typed a line in the chat window.

Bai Xian: “Sorry boss, I’m not feeling well today and need to take a day off.”

Just as she was about to hit send, she caught her own reflection in the phone’s screen—what was the point of replying now, with this new appearance?

Could she really go back to work?

She deleted the halfhearted excuse and typed again.

Bai Xian: “You money-grubbing fool, take this month’s salary and buy yourself a grave. I quit!”

With a tap of the send button, a wave of relief washed over her.

Once she’d decided to let it all go, the world felt instantly brighter.

Venturing her year’s worth of frustration, Bai Xian exited the app, tossed her phone onto the bed, and listened to her stomach grumble mournfully.

Only then did she remember she’d eaten nothing but half a half-cooked bun over the past three days.

Though her body remained relatively clean, her T-shirt and work pants were filthy beyond recognition.

She eyed her slender frame beneath the oversized shirt; none of her old clothes would fit now—she’d need an entirely new wardrobe.

Then there was the problem of her identity, her source of income…

In this information age, someone like her—a sudden “ghost resident” with no records—could hardly get by, not even able to use most public transportation.

Though she’d worked for over a year and still had several tens of thousands in her account—having had no major expenses—she couldn’t live off her savings forever.

Most pressing of all was how to explain things at home.

“Dad, Mom, I have some bad news and some good news: your son is gone, but you have a daughter now…”

Most likely, her parents would throw her out, convinced she’d lost her mind.

The sheer number of problems to solve and decisions to make left Bai Xian covering her face in despair.

But the most urgent issue was her identity.

She opened WeChat again.

Bai Xian: “You there, War Criminal? Got a question for you.”

Before long, a reply popped up.

Liu Yi: “How many times have I told you, I’m a police officer now—stop calling me that. If you have something to say, spit it out.”

Bai Xian: “Alright, War Criminal.”

Liu Yi: “…”

Bai Xian: “Say… hypothetically, if a woman appeared out of thin air with no household registration and some memory loss, how would she go about getting her ID and household record?”

This time, the reply came much slower.

After a while, a video call suddenly popped up, startling Bai Xian so much she nearly dropped her phone.

She hung up quickly.

Liu Yi: “I get you’re desperate for a girlfriend, but human trafficking is illegal. Don’t do anything stupid!”

Bai Xian, exasperated: “What are you talking about? I said hypothetically. Can’t you understand that?”

Liu Yi: “Are you sure?”

Bai Xian: “Positive… Just tell me what would happen in that situation.”

Liu Yi: “The usual: one inquiry, three checks.”

Bai Xian: “What’s that mean?”

Liu Yi: “Start by asking basic info, to rule out fakers. Then check missing persons, trafficking cases, and fugitives. It’s all pretty complicated.”

Though she expected it to be a hassle, Bai Xian still furrowed her delicate brows at the reply.

Bai Xian: “And if nothing comes up?”

Liu Yi: “Then check immigration records. Something will turn up.”

Bai Xian: “And if still nothing?”

Liu Yi: “Then there’s nothing to be done… Wait, what’s really going on? You’re awfully persistent. Did you get in trouble? Confession earns leniency, resistance earns severity. Just tell me—what did you do?”

Bai Xian: “You’re the criminal. Some internet troll was getting on my nerves and I wanted a professional answer to shut him up. Forget it—talking to you is useless. I’ll just ask Baidu; it’s more reliable than you.”

With a few half-truths, Bai Xian put down her phone, her heart heavy.

…

Night fell, and the city blazed with lights and neon.

A crowd had gathered in a residential community; flashing police lights and caution tape marked the scene.

Inside a patrol car, a middle-aged officer glanced at the young man in the passenger seat. “Something urgent at home? You’ve been messaging a lot.”

“No, just a friend asking for advice,” Liu Yi replied, putting his phone away. “Sir, what’s happened here? Why call us out so late?”

Ordinary cases didn’t usually require the presence of detectives like them.

The senior officer grabbed his cap from the back seat. “Relationship dispute. A woman jumped from a building. The precinct wants us to check if it was suicide or homicide.”

Liu Yi quickly grabbed his mentor’s tea mug, opened the door, and followed after him with his peaked cap.

Passing through the blue-and-white police tape, they entered the crime scene.

A splash of crimson stained the community’s greenery.

The older detective frowned. “How many floors did she fall from? This is horrific.”

At his words, Liu Yi looked up—and suddenly turned pale.

A twisted body, stark white bones, blood sprayed across the ground… and that striking red dress…