The June campus was dappled with sunlight filtered through plane trees, the cicadas pouring down from the branches like a drowsy, shrill lullaby.
On the basketball court, the screech of sneakers against the ground mixed with cheers, sweat glistening under the sun.
Occasionally, a bike or electric scooter passed along the tree-lined avenue, stirring up a wave of hot air that lifted the hem of a girl’s skirt.
“Holy crap, you almost made me flash everyone!” Yu Huanhuan scrambled to hold down her pleated miniskirt, cursing under her breath. “I forgot to wear safety shorts today.”
“Seriously, Yu Xiaohuan? You went all out in that outfit just to attract your crush, raiding Xiaomi’s closet like a hurricane,” Yuan Wei shot her a glance, not holding back. “That American-style fitted T-shirt only looks hot on Xiaomi’s figure. With your pancake chest, forget it.”
“Yuan Xiaowei, I’ll give you one more chance to rephrase that!”
Yu Huanhuan lunged at her with a chokehold, but Yuan Wei quickly patted her hand, lowering her voice to warn, “Zhou Yanchen... Zhou Yanchen... quick, stay composed—your crush is walking over!”
“Yeah, right.” Yu Huanhuan didn’t believe it, but when she lifted her gaze, she almost choked on her own spit.
He really was coming!
The distance between them was shrinking fast.
Rumor had it that Zhou Yanchen came from a big background—the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circle. He had all the resources handed to him on a silver platter but insisted on going against his family. Attending this school was purely an act of rebellion.
One night at a bar, someone asked him if he regretted it. He tilted his head back, chugged his drink, slammed the glass on the table, and said, “Regret what? The one thing I hate most in this life is people paving the way for me. The path I carve myself, even if it’s a mess, it’s mine.”
That defiant attitude had earned him a crowd of admirers.
The two of them blinked as Zhou Yanchen’s tall figure passed them by, then stopped in front of a girl standing behind them.
She was wearing a white overall dress over a sky-blue short-sleeved shirt, looking like a bubbly girl straight out of a manga. A khaki baseball cap sat low, with a single braid slanting out from under the brim. The end of the braid was tied with two loops of a light blue floral scrunchie, dangling loosely over her shoulder, swaying with every move as she fiddled with her phone.
She seemed completely unaware of the person standing before her, focused intently on the screen, occasionally biting her lip.
Fresh, cute, clean.
That was Zhou Yanchen’s first impression.
He held a basketball under one arm, looked down at her for a second, then pushed his phone screen toward her. “Hey, junior, add me on WeChat.”
It wasn’t a request—it was an order.
Chai Xiaomi lifted her eyelids slightly. On a normal day, she’d politely decline, but right now she was annoyed, busy paying attention to a very important Weibo post.
“Married, no thanks.”
Four words shut him down.
Zhou Yanchen raised an eyebrow. “Junior, if you’re going to reject someone, at least come up with a more reasonable excuse. Do you even know who I am?”
He tilted his chin toward the edge of the court, where his blue Maserati supercar gleamed in the sun. “My car matches your outfit today. Interested in taking a ride?”
“Can your car grow wings?”
Zhou Yanchen: “?”
Chai Xiaomi tapped her phone screen. “Check this out. This is my husband. His ride can fly. I’ll say it one last time: I. Am. Married.”
She pointed to a printed page from a novel—specifically, to two words: Wu Li.
“...” Zhou Yanchen stared at the image for a couple of seconds, his brow furrowing. “Reading romance novels has turned you into a delusional fangirl? There are so many these days.”
“Fangirl!? I’m his legally wed—”
Before she could finish, Yu Huanhuan and Yuan Wei moved fast, covering Chai Xiaomi’s mouth and dragging her away.
Xiaomi was usually cheerful, gentle, and easy to get along with, but this was the one line you couldn’t cross.
Her parents had even visited the dorm before, bringing lots of snacks to thank everyone. They explained that Xiaomi might be showing signs of post-traumatic stress disorder and asked them to help keep an eye on her. That’s how they learned the whole story.
Apparently, Xiaomi had gone missing in the mountains near some scenic area. Her family called the police and sent out multiple search teams. After countless searches, the teams gave up, but her family never did—and eventually, they found her.
The creepy part? When they found her, she wasn’t wearing the clothes she’d gone missing in. Instead, she wore a plain, simple white dress in an ancient style.
There wasn’t a single scratch on her. She even looked a little plumper than before she disappeared.
That mountain was desolate, with only a tiny portion developed as a tourist spot. Rumor had it her parents went to consult a fortune-teller, who just said: “Nothing unusual—she just went to visit her ancestors.”
It sounded bizarre.
Faced with something like that, who wouldn’t be scared?
No wonder Xiaomi had latched onto that novel called The Other World as a form of escape.
She read it while walking, while eating, huddled under the covers at night—over and over, until the pages were practically worn smooth. If she could, she’d have crawled right into the story.
Even stranger, her favorite parts weren’t the main couple’s story, but the scenes with the villain.
Sometimes at night, she’d murmur in her sleep, calling out the villain’s name—Li-Li, Li-Li—in such a sweet, warm voice that her roommates would stare at each other, dumbfounded.
This was the kind of thing best kept between the four of them. If it got out around campus, people would think she was crazy.
Chai Xiaomi knew her roommates were awesome. They were so thoughtful and caring that they even all fell into the habit of turning their names into an “X-Xiao-X” format to match hers—Yu Xiaohuan, Yuan Xiaowei, Chen Xiaomeng—each one rolling off the tongue.
Despite their closeness, no one would believe what she told them. But she didn’t bother explaining much. Her mind was on one thing: the author of The Other World on Weibo announced that the printed edition was out, with a bonus 20,000-word extra chapter. She ordered it immediately.
The day the package arrived, her roommates picked it up and she asked them to cut it open to check.
Chai Xiaomi rushed back to the dorm, pushed open the door, and found the three of them looking up at her simultaneously. They held the book together, their expressions strange.
Yuan Wei was the first to speak, a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Spill it—did you bribe the author or what?”
“What do you mean?” Chai Xiaomi’s heart skipped a beat as she snatched the book from them.
She flipped to the bonus chapter.
Her eyes landed on the first line.
She froze.
In the extra chapter, a new character had appeared—Chai Xiaomi.
According to the story, she was a descendant of the hero and heroine from far in the future, living in the 21st century. Her sole purpose in appearing was to save someone.
The book described her traveling back in time, but didn’t go into detail about what happened after. It was left as an open-ended conclusion.
The rest of the chapter wrapped up with the happy daily life of the main couple.
She clutched the page with her own name on it, her mind blank.
Right then, her roommate’s surprised voice came from beside her: “How interesting! The bookstore that shipped this book is called ‘Transmigration Administration Bureau,’ and the address is on Pingjiang Road in Suzhou. Isn’t that near your hometown, Xiaomi? Have you heard of it?”
Chai Xiaomi went to college in Nanjing, not far from home.
During the short holiday, her father insisted on driving to pick her up, but she declined. It only took two and a half hours by high-speed rail anyway.
As soon as she got off the train, she followed the address to find the place.
She had no idea when this bookstore called "Transmigration Administration Bureau" had popped up.
The storefront was simply decorated with a clean and unassuming entrance, no flashy signage.
Pingjiang Road was a popular check-in spot, already bustling with crowds on the eve of the holiday. Only this bookstore stood deserted, as if forgotten in a corner of time.
It was oddly isolated, as if it weren't in a busy downtown area.
It just sat there in silence.
There wasn't even a shop assistant inside; instead, a smart robot greeted her.
"Welcome to the Transmigration Administration Bureau, dear host. We are from the 37th Civilization Relic Restoration Department of a future era. Our purpose is to repair the characters left abandoned in the gaps of authors' stories."
The robot's voice was flat, but inside its chest, a soft blue light slowly rotated.
Hearing that familiar form of address, Chai Xiaomi's heartbeat quickened, and she asked on impulse, "Excuse me, do you have a Youtiao here?"
After a few seconds of searching, the robot replied, "Youtiao refers to an old system whose serial number has been deregistered and is about to enter the destruction phase. If you'd like to say hello to it, follow me."
This was Chai Xiaomi's first time seeing Youtiao's chip.
Just as it had said, it was very, very worn.
The vast data core was packed into this fingernail-sized square chip, its peripheral circuits already fractured, coated with a layer of nanoscale protective film, and still stuck with a faded cartoon oil stick sticker—probably left behind by the programmer who first wrote it.
"I have a humble request. Could you not destroy it? I'd like to buy it."
"If you like it, you can have it for free. You can choose a carrier for this system chip."
A deal that good?
Chai Xiaomi looked up at the holographic screen. Virtual models of various animals and insects slowly rotated in front of her—butterflies, birds, fish...
But her eyes were drawn to a pitch-black scorpion lurking in the corner of the light and shadow. It lay still at the edge, its tail hook slightly raised, as if waiting for her.
"I'll pick that scorpion."
"Alright. Once the chip is implanted, we'll deliver it to your home."
Then, Chai Xiaomi asked her most pressing question: "By the way, is there any medium here that can transmit a person into a novel world?"
The robot in front of her suddenly began to blur, but its voice continued, as if coming from far away across a body of water: "To be precise, it's transmigration."
"The world you exist in is itself a novel. And you are a character from the bonus chapter of that novel—a paper-thin person from a one-dimensional world..."
The bustling noise of the crowd woke Chai Xiaomi.
"Miss, are you alright? Oh, is it low blood sugar?"
"Do you need to sit down for a bit? I have a piece of candy here." An auntie from a nearby shop pulled a piece of hard fruit candy from her apron pocket and pressed it into Chai Xiaomi's palm. "You young people never eat breakfast properly."
"Exactly. I saw her sitting motionless on the ground just now and thought she might have heatstroke," another passerby chimed in.
Chai Xiaomi blinked in confusion. She looked up.
Where the bookstore with its Transmigration Administration Bureau sign should have stood, there was now only a construction barrier. A work notice was posted on the fence, revealing exposed steel bars and scattered cement bags.
Inside, it was completely empty. Nothing at all.
