The dormitory was set up for six people, but "Room 320" seemed to have only been assigned five girls.
As the roommates arrived, Yan was busy arranging her belongings while matching each roommate to the halo she could see above their heads.
The girl near the dorm door was named Ding Ling. Her pale complexion lacked color, and her slender frame gave off a fragile vibe. Her shoulder-length hair was a chestnut shade, and though her features were delicate, her overall demeanor exuded a "don't bother me" aura.
If Yan hadn't seen the "Ghost King Revival" halo above Ding Ling's head, she would have simply thought of her as a girl who disliked being approached. When Yan sat on her bed to set up her curtain, she felt a chilling coldness as she got closer to Ding Ling.
Is this yin energy? Is it really yin energy? Is it really okay for the four of us to live long-term with a ghost in the same dorm?
Yan couldn't help but silently rant in her mind. She pretended to casually glance over Ding Ling's body. She looked human—could it be possession? In typical urban legends, ghosts are usually spirits, right? So is this what makes a Ghost King different? Is this body filled with yin energy?
After finishing the curtain on her side, Yan turned her attention to the next roommate.
Chu Bingbing.
With her pear-blossom haircut and doll-like face, she was currently laughing as she made her bed, revealing two dimples as she spoke. She was sweet and adorable.
Her fluffy hair was adorned with a MIUMIU hairpin, and her ears sparkled with Chanel crystal earrings. She was dressed in a refined, high-society outfit, but her proficiency at making the bed surprised Yan.
After all, her luxurious appearance didn’t seem like someone who was used to manual labor.
A Rimowa suitcase and an LV monogrammed travel bag sat under her bed, looking out of place against the almost gray-pink tiled floor.
Yan was curious—how extreme was the "Spend or Die" halo above Chu Bingbing's head?
At this point, Yan hadn't finished setting up her curtain, but the beds of the three girls on their side of the room were already made. Ding Ling's bedding looked almost pitiful—a foam board left by a senior, topped with a thin, soft mattress, and a simple solid-colored bedsheet. Her quilt was equally thin.
Yan's bedding was a white set with small floral patterns, very girly. Chu Bingbing's Hermès-branded horse-print bedding instantly added a touch of luxury to the orange wooden bed.
At a glance, the three beds contrasted sharply: Ding Ling's was minimalist, Yan's was ordinary, and Chu Bingbing's was lavish.
On the opposite side, the bedding of Yi Zhi, the superhuman, was entirely dark green. If it were any darker, one might mistake it for a military dorm. Her quilt was folded into a perfect square, and from a distance, there wasn’t a single wrinkle on her bed.
As for the roommate next to the door, across from Ding Ling, Yan recognized her the moment she saw her.
Gu Jiasui.
A celebrity who had frequently appeared on hot searches over the past two years.
To be more accurate, she was often trending for negative reasons. A quick online search would reveal countless scandals about her.
She was the daughter of the wealthy Lu family in Bin City, who had only been found two years ago. However, after her return, she appeared on a family reality show with her younger sister, Lu Jianian, who had been acting since childhood and was known as the "nation's sweetheart." On the show, Gu Jiasui constantly compared herself to her sister, causing trouble, being lazy, and bossing everyone around. She even tried to interfere between her sister and her childhood sweetheart, earning her widespread disdain and ridicule from viewers.
Not only that, after the show ended, she refused to go to school, insisting on competing with her sister and forcing her way into the entertainment industry. With no acting skills or education, she relied solely on her looks and her sister’s reputation, earning her the nickname "Vampire Sister."
The more people loved Lu Jianian, the more they despised Gu Jiasui.
A year ago, Gu Jiasui gave up acting to join a girl group survival show. Her skills were lackluster, and she was mocked online. Despite being in the F class, she suddenly led her team in rearranging a traditional Chinese song during a performance, stunning the audience with her reverse pipa playing before withdrawing from the competition, claiming she needed to prepare for college entrance exams.
And now, here she was.
Yan had also seen the video of Gu Jiasui’s stunning performance, but at the time, she hadn’t noticed any "halo" above her head.
After that performance and her subsequent withdrawal, many speculated that the Lu family had arranged special training for her to exit gracefully. Comments like "Royal family training," "How much did the Lu family pay the show?" and "Forced redemption" flooded the internet.
But now, seeing the halo above the head of this beauty who seemed to have stepped out of an ancient painting, Yan understood everything.
【Ancient to Modern】
The meaning of these three words was straightforward. Since she was an ancient person who had traveled to the modern era, her ability to play the reverse pipa made perfect sense, right?
Gu Jiasui had her hair tied up with a jade hairpin, her black locks as dense as crow feathers. She wore a traditional Chinese dress with a crossed collar, her face as beautiful as a hibiscus, her willow-leaf eyebrows giving her a calm expression.
She knelt on her bed, struggling to put on the duvet cover for her Tencel bedsheet, her movements clumsy. Yet, she showed no intention of asking for help.
"Gu Jiasui, hand me the quilt. I’ll do it for you."
Yi Zhi, who had been watching from below with her arms crossed, seemed unable to bear it any longer. Her voice was clear as she grabbed the bed rail and climbed up in just two steps, then reached out to Gu Jiasui.
The ladder to the bunk bed had three rungs, but Yi Zhi only used two, leaping up in one swift motion. Yan and Chu Bingbing were both stunned.
"Yi Zhi, slow down. Don’t fall," Chu Bingbing cautioned.
If it were anyone else, a misstep could have led to a nasty fall. Yan silently marveled at the superhuman physique of someone from a post-apocalyptic world.
Once on the bed, Yi Zhi took the duvet cover and quilt from Gu Jiasui, quickly assembling them and folding the quilt into a perfect square before handing it back. She then hung the curtain for Gu Jiasui’s side with equal speed. Her own bed, however, had no curtains, drapes, or even a mosquito net.
Chu Bingbing watched in awe. "Yi Zhi, did your family serve in the military? That’s such a perfect square. I wish I’d been that good during my high school military training."
Yi Zhi mumbled an "Mhm" but offered no explanation. She grabbed the rail and jumped down from the bed.
She was an orphan. In her previous life, during the apocalypse, she had wandered with a mentor who was a former soldier, adopting a military-style discipline. But there was no need to share that with her roommates.
Yi Zhi changed the subject. "When I arrived, there were two potted plants on the balcony. Probably left by the seniors. Since I’m studying agriculture, I brought two small potted plants of my own. I’ll keep them together on the empty sixth bed for now."
The two plants were nearly dead. Most people would have thrown them away, but in her hands, they still had a chance to survive.
In the apocalypse, her survival had depended on her connection to plants and living beings. Now, in this peaceful world without mutated flora, saving these two plants felt like a small way to express gratitude.
Yan had already noticed the plants when she first arrived. The leaves were wilted, and they looked like they were on the verge of death. She was surprised Yi Zhi planned to revive them.
"I’m a plant killer. I can’t keep anything alive. As long as they don’t attract bugs, it’s fine with me," Chu Bingbing declared.
"Whatever," Ding Ling said curtly.
"I’m fine with it too," Yan chimed in, raising her hand. She noticed Gu Jiasui had already climbed down from the bed and was arranging a classical makeup box and several thread-bound books on her desk. Gu Jiasui nodded at Yi Zhi in agreement.
Whether she was naturally quiet or simply unwilling to engage, it was hard to tell.
The five of them had already exchanged WeChat contacts and created a group chat.
The South Living Area housed several different colleges, and the residents of Room 320 were from various majors. They seemed to have been grouped together as leftover students from different departments.
Yi Zhi was in the College of Agriculture, Chu Bingbing in Business, Ding Ling in History, and both Yan and Gu Jiasui were freshmen in the College of Liberal Arts.
"Ding—" A notification sounded, likely from Chu Bingbing’s phone.
"Hey everyone, I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll handle the dorm’s internet when I get back."
Yan watched as Chu Bingbing, who had been quietly arranging her bags, suddenly sprang up, grabbed her Miu Miu bag, and dashed out of the dorm like an arrow released from a bow, as if something urgent was calling her.
She blinked, then saw Ding Ling take a long black umbrella from the closet. The frail-looking girl, with her thin lips pressed together, spoke in a weak voice, leaving behind the words, "I might not come back tonight," before heading out.
Not long after, Gu Jiasui, who had been on the phone on the balcony, walked out gracefully, her expression calm. "My agent called. I need to go out," she said, picking up her bag and leaving.
In an instant, the dorm, which had been full just moments ago, was now empty except for Yi Zhi and Yan.
The two of them exchanged glances. Yan had read online that roommates who were strangers at the start of the semester often became close quickly, eating and shopping together. However, it seemed like the girls in their dorm were more independent.
Yan glanced at a message from her childhood friend Zhu Jue on her phone. He was a freshman at the medical school, living in the North Winter Garden dorm, and his roommates had planned to have lunch together to bond.
She didn’t need to worry about Zhu Jue. She wasn’t particularly hungry, and after the early morning flight and the hassle of reporting at the airport, Yan felt exhausted. She climbed into bed, pulled the curtain shut, and fell asleep almost instantly.
The dorm was quiet. Yi Zhi searched on her phone for "flower planting and care tips." After scrolling through several posts filled with detailed instructions, she couldn’t help but mutter to herself, "What a hassle."
The dense list of precautions made her head spin. It turned out that in a world without spiritual energy, taking care of plants was such a complicated task.
Honestly, before awakening her wood-element ability in her past life during the apocalypse, she had never even cared for a single potted succulent.
In the apocalypse, everything from animals to plants, even humans, had mutated. A little bit of spiritual energy of the same element was all it took to nourish seeds.
Looking at the two pots of nearly dead, unidentified flowers, Yi Zhi touched her chin. With three roommates gone and one asleep, this was the perfect opportunity.
She tiptoed over to the sixth bed, near one of the pots with wilted, yellowing leaves, and extended a faint thread of wood-element spiritual energy from her fingertip.
"That should be enough. Just enough to revive it. Too much would be overkill," Yi Zhi murmured softly. As a wood-element ability user, she was cautious. Giving too much spiritual energy might cause the plant to mutate in some way. Although the spiritual energy in this world was sparse, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Yi Zhi only touched one pot as an experiment, but even with just a tiny amount of spiritual energy, the nearly dead flower seemed to come back to life. The wilted, yellow leaves perked up, the yellow faded into green, and even flower buds began to form.
"I gave it too much," Yi Zhi whispered, but there was no way to take back the spiritual energy she had already infused. She watched as the flower buds rapidly grew, blooming in just a few seconds, almost overflowing from the pot.
The snow-white petals, set against the deep green leaves, blossomed into nine large flowers.
They were gardenias.
Yi Zhi took a deep breath. Even a trace of her spiritual energy was overwhelming for this dying flower. This was bad—she hadn’t expected such a dramatic effect.
She had been worried that transplanting it into her space might cause it to mutate due to excessive nourishment, but even this tiny bit of spiritual energy had been too much.
Just then, Yi Zhi heard movement from the bunk bed. Her body tensed as she turned to see Yan climbing down the ladder. The gardenias in front of her had grown so large that there was no way to hide them with her body!
Yan had already noticed. Her pupils contracted as she stared at the gardenias in shock.
It was too late to move the flowers back into her space now. Yi Zhi’s mind raced. When had Yan woken up? Had she been watching her use her spiritual energy from the bed? What did she know? Yi Zhi quickly considered how to erase her roommate’s memory without harming her.
Yi Zhi locked eyes with Yan and bit her tongue before speaking, "You saw everything, didn’t you?"
Her voice carried a hint of coldness. Yan was momentarily stunned by the question, but then her gaze fell on the large pot of gardenias in front of Yi Zhi, and a look of understanding flashed in her eyes.
"Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone," Yan said gently, her expression warm.
Hearing this, Yi Zhi’s eyes narrowed slightly. Hidden among the gardenia leaves, her right hand quietly conjured a forget-me-not flower.
The forget-me-not could erase specific memories without leaving any side effects. In her past life, many people used it to forget unwanted memories. This would do the trick.
But Yan’s face showed no trace of surprise. Had she seen everything? Could it be... that she wasn’t an ordinary person either?
At that moment, Yan walked over to the sixth bed and patted Yi Zhi’s shoulder reassuringly.
"It’s just a matter of replacing an old plant with a new one, right? Don’t worry, it’s no big deal."
"It’s okay if you’re not good at taking care of plants."
Yi Zhi’s right hand relaxed, and the forget-me-not flower she had conjured dissipated.
Yan thought for a moment and added, "I noticed that the old plant was almost dead anyway."
Yi Zhi’s hand twitched again, but Yan’s face was filled with understanding. "Even though you’re studying agriculture, it doesn’t mean you’re an expert at keeping plants alive. Especially when they’re already on the verge of dying. But since you took on the responsibility of caring for them in front of everyone, it’s only natural that you’d want to save face by secretly replacing them."
Yi Zhi fell silent, her gaze shifting to the other pot of flowers, which she hadn’t infused with any spiritual energy and was still half-dead.
Yan followed her gaze and pointed at the pot, her expression still one of "I get it."
"You left this one as a comparison, right?"
"Isn’t this what they call a control experiment in your field?"
Yan’s sincere "I understand you" finally made Yi Zhi breathe a sigh of relief.
She had overthought it. Yan didn’t know anything; she was just an ordinary roommate. Her secret was still safe.
The only problem was that she might have come across as someone trying too hard to impress others.
