Jian Youyou woke up in her own bedroom almost the moment she plunged into the sea, her figure swallowed by the darkness. She clutched the blanket, gasping heavily, convinced she had just brushed with death. During the terrifying freefall, she had tried chanting "go home" in her mind, wondering if it would snap her out of the dream—and surprisingly, it worked.
But the lingering fear of the fall and the near-death experience left her shaken. She glanced at the clock on the wall: 4:40 AM, still two hours before dawn.
So, dying really did bring her back. But the mission must have failed, all that time wasted. Jian Youyou pursed her lips, trying to dismiss it as just a nightmare and go back to sleep, but frustration kept her awake.
"Seven gold bracelets and a jade bracelet… just gone like that?"
She lay down, then abruptly sat up again, unwilling to let it go. Groping around the bed for the book she had been holding before sleep, she found nothing. She fumbled for her glasses on the nightstand, put them on, and squinted at the floor in the dim glow of her nightlight.
The book lay face-down on the floor, probably having slipped off when she startled awake. Jian Youyou threw off the covers and bent to pick it up—but as soon as she lifted it, a faint metallic jingling sound reached her ears.
She looked down and froze. On the soft carpet, illuminated by the weak light, several gleaming golden rings lay where the book had been. Jian Youyou stood hunched over, clutching the book, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. She stared unblinking until, after a long moment, a scream tore from her throat.
She clapped a hand over her mouth just as quickly. Gaping at the gold bracelets—and the jade bracelet pinned beneath them—she dropped to the carpet and counted them over and over. Not a single one missing. She even bit one of the gold bracelets to confirm—real.
Clutching them, she delighted in their crisp, musical clinking, too mesmerized to put them away, afraid they might vanish if she blinked.
She spent a full ten minutes marveling at the eight treasures before finally wrapping the gold bracelets (except the jade one) in a cloth, then stashing them—along with a diamond necklace she already owned—inside her bedside drawer.
Only then did she climb back into bed with the book. Outside, dawn hadn’t broken, but her eyes shone like searchlights. She had secretly hoped to bring those treasures back. Every time she left a world, she just chanted "go home" in her mind, and she’d return.
But this time, she hadn’t completed the mission—so why had the rewards come with her?
Jian Youyou flipped open the book and found her answer.
"Plot deviation in Part Two, but outcome aligns with the novel’s core themes. All characters now recognize Jian You as Yu Hekun’s lover, and Yu Hekun has developed intense emotions toward her. Rewards are granted within the rules, according to the traveler’s wishes."
Two lines materialized on the book’s title page. Jian Youyou stared dumbly before quickly piecing it together: she hadn’t fulfilled the mission’s exact requirements, yet she’d still received the rewards.
Because this segment of the plot was meant to expose "Jian You," Yu Hekun’s lover, setting the stage for the female lead Huo Jiaoyue’s return—and to make Yu Hekun feel strongly about her.
Originally, Yu Hekun was supposed to despise "Jian You" after she caused a humiliating scene at a friend’s birthday party, driven by vanity.
But Jian Youyou had meddled, derailing the script—yet, by sheer accident, she’d still provoked intense emotions in Yu Hekun. And she could guess exactly what those emotions were: fear.
How could he not be terrified? Right before she jumped, she’d seen his eyes bulge out of his skull. Served the bastard right.
Especially since her sudden return meant she’d effectively vanished in that world. The image of rescue teams failing to find her body—and Yu Hekun’s inevitable meltdown—filled her with vicious glee.
She’d long been fed up with his insufferable arrogance. Scaring him half to death was the least he deserved.
So what if he was some spoiled young master of a business empire? So what if he had money to burn? If someone died because of him—if they disappeared without a trace—
Let’s see how brave he felt then.
Just as she was about to close the book, another line surfaced:
"Traveler completes three missions to unlock an additional optional reward—applicable in reality!"
Jian Youyou had already finished two. Tempted, she hesitated—then the book seemed to read her mind, displaying another prompt:
"Initiate next journey now? Yes / No."
She glanced at the still-dark sky outside, then decisively snapped the book shut and tossed it onto the nightstand.
Too awake to sleep at nearly 5 AM, she washed up, threw on workout clothes, and headed to the nearest park for a jog.
In the novel’s world, her character had perfect vision, but here in reality, running with glasses was a nuisance—yet without them, she could barely see the path.
After a while, annoyed by the glasses, she gave up jogging. The morning air was crisp, so she stretched for a bit before settling onto a swing, swaying idly, cheeks flushed. She pulled out her phone and texted Bian Xia:
"Hey, you set up shop yet?"
At this hour, Bian Xia was definitely awake. Unlike Jian Youyou, she was relentlessly diligent, always buzzing with energy.
Instead of replying via text, Bian Xia called immediately.
The moment Jian Youyou answered, Bian Xia’s voice dripped with sarcasm: "Wow, did the sun rise in the west today?"
"Since when does Miss Jian Youyou wake up at this ungodly hour? Ghosting me?"
Jian Youyou snorted. "Cut the crap." She could hear rustling on Bian Xia’s end—probably packing up for her stall.
"Where’s Zai Zai?" she asked.
Bian Xia, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear, grunted as she lifted something heavy. "Still asleep. That kid won’t budge till the sun’s blazing on her butt—ugh—"
Listening to Bian Xia’s strained breathing, Jian Youyou suddenly said, "Call me ‘Daddy,’ and I’ll take care of you from now on."
Bian Xia, used to her nonsense, deadpanned, "Daddy, you still dreaming? Go back to sleep. I’m busy—stop bothering me."
She moved to hang up, but Jian Youyou blurted, "What if there was a way to make tons of money—just by dreaming, no strings attached? Would you do it?"
Bian Xia didn’t hesitate. "Hell yeah. Dream and get rich? Where do I sign up?"
Jian Youyou adopted a grave tone. "It’s real. I’ve been doing it these past couple days."
Bian Xia chuckled. "Then keep dreaming, sweetheart." And the line went dead.
Jian Youyou knew Bian Xia would react this way—no one would believe such a thing if she told them.
But she hadn’t really intended for anyone to believe her anyway. After swinging on the swing for a while longer, she started heading home.
When she got back, her mother, Shuiyue, was already up and eating breakfast. Her father had gone out to buy groceries by then. Shuiyue paused mid-bite of her steamed bun when she saw Jian Youyou walk in from outside. "Where’ve you been?"
This was truly unusual. Since graduating, Jian Youyou hadn’t held a regular job. Under Shuiyue’s daily nagging and complaints, she made little crafts and set up a stall at the night market, earning in half a month what many fresh college graduates made in a full month.
But Shuiyue never considered this a proper career and constantly disapproved, especially since Jian Youyou was nothing like her—lazy to the bone. If it weren’t for the little one she had to take to school every morning, she’d sleep until 3 PM.
So for Jian Youyou to suddenly appear outside at what was practically the crack of dawn for her, Shuiyue couldn’t help but be suspicious.
"I went for a run. Didn’t you say I was getting fat?" Jian Youyou walked to the table and saw her mother eating steamed buns with pickles again. She couldn’t resist adding, "Mom, you have low blood pressure. You can’t just eat this in the morning—it’s not nutritious."
Shuiyue snorted but didn’t reply.
Jian Youyou continued, "Mom, you don’t need to save money for me. What’s the point of hoarding so much for a girl like me? You and Dad should enjoy yourselves—eat well, drink well."
Shuiyue shot her a glare but still didn’t speak, stubbornly chewing on her pickles and steamed bun. Jian Youyou picked up a bun herself, grabbed a pickle, and was about to take a bite when Shuiyue smacked her hand.
"Go wash up first."
Jian Youyou obediently put the bun down and went to freshen up.
Only then did Shuiyue pause, her gaze softening as she looked toward the bathroom, her eyes full of doting affection.
Of course, she had to earn as much as she could. She and her husband had only this one precious child. Jian Youyou had gone missing for over half a month when she was little, and when they finally found her, she’d babbled nonsense for a long time. It had taken so much effort to raise her into the woman she was now. Though Shuiyue acted strict on the surface, both she and her husband adored Jian Youyou deeply.
Otherwise, Jian Youyou wouldn’t be so carefree.
Their daughter didn’t need to work, didn’t need to find a partner, could stay at home forever—as long as she was safe.
For parents who had lost and regained their child, this was the only thing that mattered. They worked themselves to the bone now so that even after they were gone, their child would have the means to live as she pleased.
But they’d never voiced this. Jian Youyou had long forgotten the events of her childhood and had no idea just how indulgent her hardworking, frugal parents were toward her.
She lived as blissfully unaware as any other "lazy homebody" nagged by their parents, with her unremarkable dreams and her fear of her mother forcing her into blind dates and marriage.
After washing up, she ate some of the leftover pickles and steamed buns—and to her surprise, they still tasted delicious. People said it was hard to go from luxury to simplicity, but even after experiencing the extravagant, mouthwatering breakfasts in the world of her book, her taste buds hadn’t been spoiled. She wasn’t picky and never felt out of place.
After breakfast, the little one arrived right on time. Jian Youyou helped her wash up, combed her hair, and sent her off to school before heading to their family’s small shop as usual.
At lunch, the three of them—including Jian Anzhi, who usually did nothing but work—sat together. Jian Youyou got her hand smacked with chopsticks by Shuiyue for picking at the dishes. She clutched her reddened hand and whined, "I’m at least a free-of-charge waitress here. Do you have to be so cruel?"
Jian Anzhi glanced at her stinging hand and seemed about to say something, but when Shuiyue shot him a sharp look, he could only give Jian Youyou an apologetic shrug.
Jian Youyou huffed. "Just you wait. When I’m rich—"
"You?" Shuiyue scoffed. "If you don’t get a real job soon, I’ll agree to let Aunt Wang introduce you to her nephew."
Jian Youyou immediately surrendered. "Mom, Mom, please don’t! I’ve seen Aunt Wang’s nephew—balding before his time! Even if you don’t care about me, at least think about the next generation’s genes!"
Shuiyue smacked her with the chopsticks again but dropped the subject. Still, Jian Youyou secretly vowed never to meet that "Thunder God"-looking nephew of Aunt Wang’s. She was going to make money—lots of it. Once she was rich, she’d keep a pretty boy for herself. Heh.
That night, Jian Youyou carefully studied the next part of the plot, then resolutely hugged the book and sank back into the dream.
The time difference between her entering and exiting the novel’s world was exactly two hours.
Two hours.
In those two hours, every lifeguard had dived into the water three times. The yacht had stopped in the middle of the sea, and all the partygoers had stepped out onto the deck, their expressions varying from shock to unease.
"Two hours… There’s no way she survived. And no body either—did something in the water drag her under?"
"Oh my god, what do we do now?"
"How stupid. She actually jumped. Yu Hekun went too far this time. Even if he’s the sponsor, this is playing with human life!"
The murmurs never ceased, and not a single one was kind. After all, it had been over two hours. Even though the lifeguards were still combing the waters, there was no sign of Jian Youyou.
Yu Hekun had been standing by the railing the entire time. He’d tried to jump in himself, but Zhan Cheng had desperately held him back—he wasn’t a professional, and with over a dozen lifeguards already searching, he’d only get in the way.
Truthfully, Zhan Cheng had almost given up. He’d already called the coast guard, but Yu Hekun remained rooted at the railing, his eyes fixed on the dark, churning sea, as if he couldn’t accept what had happened.
He’d only said two things to Zhan Cheng, his voice already hoarse beyond recognition. Zhan Cheng could only order the lifeguards to keep searching while praying the coast guard arrived soon.
"Hekun, go inside and rest for a bit. They’re still looking—they’ll find her," Zhan Cheng said, not for the first time. He tried to guide Yu Hekun inside, but Yu Hekun’s expression was hollow, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying. After a long moment, Yu Hekun finally whispered, so faint it was almost inaudible, "I didn’t actually mean for her to jump."
"I know, I know," Zhan Cheng reassured him. "Who could’ve guessed she’d really do it?"
Just then, Fang Qianli’s voice called from behind them. "Zhan Cheng, Zai Zai’s crying. He’s asking for you."
Zhan Cheng was at his wit’s end. What was supposed to be a fun birthday party had turned into a tragedy. He gave Yu Hekun’s shoulder a helpless pat before heading inside to comfort Zai Zai.
And it was at that exact moment that Jian Youyou suddenly reappeared at the hallway corner behind the crowd.
She was still in that custom-made gown, barefoot, her hair loose—exactly as she’d been when she’d jumped.
But now there was a rather tricky problem—she checked the time and realized nearly three hours had passed. By all logic, someone lost at sea for that long without being found would have no chance of survival.
So here was the dilemma: hiding in a corner, she watched as Yu Hekun, utterly devastated and on the verge of collapse, seemed ready to throw himself into the sea to "atone with his life" for her. As satisfying as it was to see him suffer—and as certain as she was that he had now deeply recognized his mistake—Jian Youyou crouched in the shadows, nervously pinching her toes, and gazed worriedly toward the crowd.
How could she make an elegant and natural reappearance without everyone mistaking her for a ghost?
