Chapter 73: South Street Apartments

No matter how determined Li Zhi was to drive out the entities haunting these worlds, she had to admit in this moment—the existence of [monsters] gave some people a reason to hope.

After Meng Yuhan finished speaking, she waited anxiously for Li Zhi’s response. But when silence followed, frustration began creeping in. “Forget it if you don’t want to! I’ll get in sooner or later anyway—I can clear a dungeon by myself!”

“Who said I didn’t agree?”

Li Zhi reached out and ruffled her hair twice, deliberately messing up the neat bangs Meng Yuhan worked so hard on. Meng Yuhan glared at her indignantly, but Li Zhi only withdrew her hand with a slight smile.

She held the Team-Up Card that Yao Mingfeng had given her. So far, only one slot had been used—bound to Xiang Ling, the official player. The other was a bonus slot, allowing her to bring along someone else of her choosing.

Li Zhi took the card out and showed it to her. It was Meng Yuhan’s first time seeing an in-game item, her eyes wide with both excitement and curiosity. She reached for it immediately.

Li Zhi dodged and raised a finger. “One condition. Once you’re in, you follow my orders completely. Can you do that?”

Meng Yuhan stood up straighter, her eyes sparkling with determination. “Yes!!”

Li Zhi chuckled, taking her hand and activating the team-up function. The shimmering glow of activation made Meng Yuhan blink with wonder. “When do we start?” she asked, full of anticipation.

Li Zhi poked her skinny arm. “Not yet. Go home and train first—start running five kilometers around the complex every day, plus thirty minutes of basic strength work.”

Meng Yuhan instantly puffed up, refusing to back down. “Don’t underestimate me! I’m the long-distance running champion at school!”

Li Zhi laughed outright. “Fine, champion. Then you’ll be doing ten kilometers a day.”

Meng Yuhan: “…………”

Inside the bedroom, Grandma Luo had been listening the whole time, and the mention of “medicine for heart disease” sent her straight into sobs.

She cursed her granddaughter for being rebellious, for not knowing her limits, for risking her life just to chase some kind of novelty by going into these death games. Yet she hadn’t expected this rebellious little girl to be doing it all… for her.

“My life isn’t worth a damn thing!” Grandma Luo sobbed into her hands, voice trembling to keep it from leaking outside the door. “She’s just a kid… she’s going to trade her life for mine…”

Shang Jinru quietly tried to comfort her. “Yuhan’s a good girl. Since Zhizhi agreed to take her, she’ll bring her back safe.”

But Grandma Luo only cried harder. “Safe this time… but what about next time? And the time after that? Your Zhizhi may be strong, but I’ve seen how dangerous those livestreams are. Once you enter that place, you never get away. What if one day she goes in and never comes back?”

Shang Jinru had no words. She understood that fear too well.

No matter how calm she acted, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that Li Zhi was invincible—she still cried alone in the bedroom after every stream started.

What if one day she didn’t come back?

Every time she opened her daughter’s livestream, it felt like her heart might stop at any second.

Wanting to watch, but dreading what she might see.

It was torture.

Outside, Meng Yuhan’s cheerful voice rang out: “Grandma! Zhizhi-jie agreed to bring me with her this time! You don’t have to worry anymore. Let’s go home—I need to start my training!”

Grandma Luo wiped her tears quickly, forcing herself to calm down before stepping out. She thanked Li Zhi repeatedly, her frail form half-dragging her excited granddaughter out the door.

Li Zhi closed the door after them, only to find Shang Jinru’s eyes slightly red. She stepped forward and hugged her. “Mom. I’ll be fine.”

Shang Jinru choked and nodded silently.

“I’ll get rid of them,” Li Zhi whispered, quiet yet resolute. “I swear—we’ll go back to living like we used to.”

———

With two newcomers now bound to her, Li Zhi wasn’t sure which of them would trigger the next dungeon. Newbies didn’t have the “sense of impending entry”—their first time being dragged into a dungeon was always sudden and without warning, just like hers had been.

So she kept herself prepared at all times, coaching Xiang Ling and Meng Yuhan on what to expect.

As expected, one day during lunch, Li Zhi vanished right from the dinner table.

Her chopsticks clattered to the ground with a crisp clink.

For a second, Shang Jinru froze. Then Li Shuang wiped her mouth hastily, ran to grab the tablet, and opened the stream interface.

A small red exclamation mark blinked in the notifications.

Li Zhi’s livestream is now active.

The screen flickered—and a shadowed street under the veil of night appeared before them.

Just moments ago, she’d been reaching for a piece of meat. Now she was standing alone on a desolate, unfamiliar road.

Li Zhi calmly wiped her lips with a napkin, casually observing her surroundings.

An old, rundown residential street. Both sides were shrouded in darkness, save for a few dim, flickering streetlights illuminating a narrow path forward. She didn’t hesitate—she walked ahead, her steps steady.

Soon, Meng Yuhan and Xiang Ling materialized nearby, summoned by the system into the same instance.

Meng Yuhan bolted over the moment she saw Li Zhi. For all her bravado earlier, the moment reality hit, her tiny form shrank close to Li Zhi, her excitement barely hiding the tremble in her steps.

Xiang Ling maintained his cover, exchanging brief introductions with Meng Yuhan.

Li Zhi nodded. “Let’s move.”

Viewers flocked in as soon as the notification hit:

【Finally! Li Zhi’s live again—votes up, people!】
【First row, first flower—let’s go!】
【Where are my Zhi-Xi shippers? I better see them together this dungeon!】
【Li Jianxi, stop getting lost—find your wife!】
【Li Zhi always brings the best runs—LET’S GOOOOO】
【ZHIZHI BEST GIRL】
【Wait, who’s the kid? Looks like someone she knows…】
【Kids shouldn’t be in these places… please protect the little ones】
【Ugh, I’ve seen too many die already. But with Li Zhi, I believe. She will protect her.】
【I trust Li Zhi forever!!!】

As the three moved forward into the murky night, others began appearing too—players summoned one after another from nearby alleyways. The streetlights barely illuminated fifty meters ahead. Beyond that—only a thick, suffocating darkness.

Then she saw him.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure standing silently among the forming group of players.

Li Zhi’s steps froze for half a second.

Li Feng.

Her older brother. Standing among the players, cold-eyed, tense.

Their gazes met briefly—and then, subtly, Li Feng shook his head once.

That was enough. They’d grown up together. One glance was all it took to communicate: Don’t blow my cover.

Li Zhi’s eyes slid away, cool and indifferent, like she’d just happened to glance at a stranger in passing.

But then she glanced at the girl trailing behind her.

Meng Yuhan hadn’t noticed yet. She was still distracted, alternating between curiosity and apprehension. Li Zhi leaned down and whispered softly in her ear: “Pretend you don’t know Brother Feng. Don’t give him away.”

Meng Yuhan puffed up with serious determination, giving a firm, tiny “Mm!”

Meanwhile, the livestream chat was going wild over the players:

【Damn… hot guy alert. New one! Mine!】
【Says here his name is Li Feng. Same surname. Think they’re related?】
【Bro, half of China’s called Li. Doesn’t mean anything. They clearly don’t know each other.】
【Yeah, look—they don’t even look alike.】
【Forget him, Fu Huan is here! Absolute goddess!】
【No one else matters with Li Zhi in the game.】
【JO JUUUUUUUN YUAN—lil bro, I’m here with votes!】

Soon, it became clear—there were ten players total in this dungeon.

As usual, Li Zhi was the center of attention. She was in the global top player charts, after all, and her chemistry with Li Jianxi—the infamous “Zhi-Xi CP”—had made her famous even outside dungeon circles.

Besides herself, Li Feng, and the two newcomers, she recognized most of the others—players she’d seen before, all regular faces in the circuit. Except for one—a boy about Meng Yuhan’s age, unfamiliar, but oddly composed for someone seemingly so young.

Beside Li Feng, the stunning actress Fu Huan beamed with delight. “What luck! We’ve got the top-tier with us. Guaranteed clear!”

Another player, an actor named Yuan Cheng, laughed as well. “My first time teaming with someone in the top hundred. Though… two kids in here? Isn’t that a bit much?”

He meant Meng Yuhan and the boy—Qiao Junyuan.

Two small figures, standing among battle-hardened veterans.

But while Meng Yuhan looked nervous, emotions written plain on her face, Qiao Junyuan only offered a quiet smile, his dark eyes calm and deep.

Li Zhi gave him a glance, thoughtful, then said quietly, “Let’s keep moving.”

When a top player gives an order, no one argues.

The narrow street stretched on endlessly, each footstep echoing in the suffocating stillness.

After ten minutes, they finally reached a crossroads.

Not a single vehicle in sight.

An old woman in black cloth squatted at the center, burning ghost money. The white smoke curled upward in the cold wind, mixing with her faint chanting. Too distant to hear clearly, but the mood was unmistakable.

Nighttime. A crossroads. An old woman burning offerings.

Bad omen.

The brittle yellow leaves on the ground tumbled in slow spirals as Li Zhi calmly approached her.

A few steps away, the old woman abruptly turned around.

Firelight illuminated her pale, corpse-like face. Her cloudy eyes locked onto the players, voice raspy and grave: “Tonight is the Seventh Return. Why are you still out here? Go. Find shelter. Hide. Living souls cannot witness the dead returning.”

Li Zhi followed the direction of her pointing hand.

Through the mist… the faint silhouette of an ancient, crumbling building emerged.

Painted in faded blue across one side were four large, ominous characters:

South Street Apartments.