Chapter 31: Hidden Past

After the popularity rankings were announced, the players were quickly transported into the reward space, just like last time.

The people around her vanished, and a translucent interface appeared before her. Li Zhi looked calm, but this time the interface flickered repeatedly, failing to directly display the reward she most desired like it did before.

Raising an eyebrow leisurely, she asked, “What’s wrong? Can’t detect my deepest desire anymore? I thought you claimed to be advanced technology from a higher-dimensional world?”

The panel flickered again—still nothing appeared.

The silence from the system was deafening.

After a while, its cold mechanical voice finally echoed in her ear. It sounded as emotionless as ever, yet Li Zhi could somehow hear the suppressed frustration beneath its words.

“Detected player’s most desired wish violates system operational protocols. Request denied. Reward will be distributed randomly. Player Li Zhi is hereby issued a warning. Further violations will result in activation of the punishment protocol.”

“Really now, can’t even take a joke?”

Her tone remained unhurried. If the system had a physical form, it might have leaped out to punch her by now.

“Alright then, just give me the random reward.”

At last, a dazzling golden item materialized on the silent interface: A Thorned Red Rose That Never Withers. She tapped to claim it, and the rose dropped into her hand. Even though she was prepared, the sudden prick of its thorns still caught her off guard.

Sucking on her finger, she checked the item description: A thorned red rose that never withers. It will wound you.

Li Zhi: “……”

She glanced around. “Seriously? Retaliation? You call this a reward? Where’s the complaint hotline? I’m reporting your abuse of power.”

Only icy silence answered her.

With a sigh, she carefully put the rose away and looked back at the panel.

Two items requiring points had appeared at random: A Pillow That Guarantees Sleep, priced at 599 points; and A Ghost Attraction Talisman, at 699 points.

The pillow could be used in the real world—its effects were exactly what the name implied. The talisman, however, was usable only within game instances and would attract all supernatural entities within a hundred-mile radius for ten minutes.

After a moment’s thought, Li Zhi exchanged 1.3 million popularity points for 1,298 credits and bought both items. That left her with just over 1.1 million popularity—further from cracking the overall popularity leaderboard.

With the rewards claimed, the four players reappeared in the safehouse.

Despite exchanging over a million popularity points, Li Zhi still sat comfortably at the number one spot. The others’ rankings remained unchanged as well—judging from their slightly diminished popularity, each of them had likely exchanged for one item.

Tian Mingjie wore a contented smile, evidently pleased with his purchase. Zhao Luan’s long, hideous scar had already scabbed over, making him look fierce and terrifying. Li Zhi guessed he must’ve exchanged for some kind of healing item, explaining his current calm demeanor.

At this early stage of the game, with everyone short on resources, there was no real need for trades yet.

The countdown began on the safehouse’s screen.

Tian Mingjie grinned from ear to ear. “Zhi-jie, Luan-ge, thanks for carrying me through! If there’s a chance next time, let’s team up again!”

Zhao Luan ignored him, but Li Zhi gave a faint smile. “Sure.”

Chi Yi tugged gently at her sleeve and whispered, “I’ll call you later—remember to check your phone.”

Li Zhi nodded.

The countdown hit zero, the safehouse closed, and when she opened her eyes again, she was back on her living room couch. Three figures surrounded her nervously.

As soon as she appeared, Li Shuang let out a cry, “Sis!”

Then she flung herself into Li Zhi’s arms, sending her sinking into the cushions.

Li Zhi chuckled softly and patted the back of her head.

Predictably, Li Shuang was soon hauled off by Li Feng, who scolded sternly, “Stop pouncing on your sister every time!”

Like a little dog, Li Shuang scooted back over and clung to Li Zhi’s arm. “I was just too excited! Sis, you’re amazing! Did you know? The livestream chat was full of people praising you! Your popularity’s skyrocketing again. I even spammed the chat to hype you up, hehe.”

Li Zhi didn’t mind her clinginess; in fact, she enjoyed it. After basking in her sister’s affection, she took out the Pillow That Guarantees Sleep. “Mom, use this from now on—you won’t lose sleep anymore.”

Shang Jinru, her mother, had suffered from poor sleep for years, often waking at the slightest noise and sometimes not sleeping more than three hours a night. Medical treatments were limited, and long-term medication wasn’t ideal. With this pillow, Li Zhi finally didn’t have to worry so much about her health.

Shang Jinru blinked in surprise. Even though she’d heard about the strange game items from her children, seeing such a practical object in real life was still astonishing.

“Really? Just… this pillow will cure insomnia? It looks pretty normal to me.”

Li Zhi said, “Try it. You’ll know by tomorrow.”

Her mother studied the pillow for a while, but then frowned with concern. “It must’ve cost a lot of credits, right? Why waste it on me? Aren’t those points precious? Shouldn’t you be saving them for something useful in those game levels?”

She stuffed the pillow back into Li Zhi’s arms. “Can’t you return it?”

Exactly the same reaction as every time Li Zhi gave her an expensive gift.

Li Zhi couldn’t help laughing. “Can’t return it. Just use it. I’ve still got plenty of credits left.” The poised, decisive leader in the game now spoke with a rare hint of girlish affection. “Besides, I gain popularity really fast—you saw that too, right?”

Her mother looked at her tenderly, hand brushing through her daughter’s hair. Suddenly, her voice choked. “Were you afraid when you entered that baby tower?”

Li Zhi shook her head.

Li Shuang’s earlier excitement instantly gave way to furious curses. “That system did it on purpose! Sending you into a baby tower instance—I swear it’s targeting you! How vile!”

Li Zhi smiled faintly. “How could that be? Honestly, I should thank it for sending me there—otherwise, I wouldn’t have cleared the instance so easily.”

Li Feng frowned. “You’re too reckless. Even if… you still can’t guarantee you’ll be able to handle every situation inside. What if you’d gone in and couldn’t get out?”

“I had a feeling when I got near that tower,” Li Zhi replied. “That’s why I went in. Maybe… it was fate?” She spoke openly about it now, as if it no longer troubled her. “Maybe because I’m the only one who ever survived being thrown into a baby tower.”

Chi Yi had asked her twice before why she could enter that place.

At the time, Li Zhi hadn’t answered.

The game was livestreamed; she didn’t want everyone to know about her past.

But here, surrounded by family, there was nothing left to hide.

She could enter that baby tower because she had once been inside one. When she was just a newborn, she’d been discarded there by her biological parents, just like the other baby girls in that instance.

Back then, in many remote regions, infanticide of baby girls was still a common, horrifying practice.

What could a newborn remember? She couldn’t even open her eyes yet.

But throughout her life, Li Zhi would have recurring dreams: someone holding her close, hurrying down a road. Through half-lidded eyes, she’d glimpse nothing but a vast blue sky above.

Warm, gentle sunlight would fall on her face—comforting.

But the road was too short. Before she could memorize the shape of a single cloud, the sky spun, light vanished, and she was thrown into cold, hard darkness. A bottomless pit. If you fall in, you don’t come out.

In the dream, the baby cried endlessly.

She cried until her voice gave out. But finally, someone heard her.

“Why is there a baby crying in that tower?”

“Which monster left a live infant in there?!”

“Quick! Get the child out!”

A single shaft of light pierced the abyss, and she followed that faint illumination out of her nightmare.

That’s how she survived. The people who saved her couldn’t find her parents and handed her to the local police. After a long journey, she ended up in an orphanage, where she lived until she was six years old, before being adopted by the Li family.

But Li Zhi never thought of herself as unlucky. Quite the opposite—she believed she’d always been fortunate.

Fortunate that someone heard her cries. Fortunate that she was adopted into a family that truly loved her. Fortunate that she found people who cared.

Had her birth parents not abandoned her, she thought, she might have grown up in that home—a family willing to murder newborn girls. Compared to that, her current life was infinitely better.

As an adult, Li Zhi tracked down the police officer who’d helped save her. Following the address he provided, she visited her birthplace.

The retired officer thought she’d come back searching for her biological family, and was genuinely moved.

That day, Li Zhi arrived with a full demolition crew.

Smiling sweetly, she watched as they tore that baby tower to the ground.