**Dorm Room 320, Girls' Building.**
Yi Zhi stared intently at the small silver pistol in front of her.
Heavens above, earth below—if she weren’t absolutely certain this was the modern era, not the post-apocalyptic world, and that she was safely in her dorm room, Yi Zhi might have doubted her own sanity.
She hadn’t seen this thing since returning to the modern world.
She was sure, absolutely certain, that this little pistol was *not* a product of the present era.
The technology of the post-apocalyptic world had branched off in a completely different direction from modern advancements. The emergence of abilities had skewed scientific development down an unconventional path, and this silver pistol was one of its signature products.
It was designed for novice Ability Users to help them control their powers, refining their precision and mastery.
For Ability Users like Yi Zhi, who had awakened in the earliest days of the apocalypse, such tools hadn’t existed back then.
By the time these basic ability pistols became widespread, the world had stabilized somewhat, with major bases establishing order. By then, Yi Zhi had long since mastered her abilities.
At first, these pistols had been expensive, but Ability Users could generally afford them. She’d even bought one herself—just for fun.
For beginners, controlling the intensity of their abilities was often a challenge. Compressing and converting energy into air bullets required meticulous precision.
In short, this little gun was practically a *must-have* for rookie Ability Users.
As for intermediate or advanced users? It became more of a toy—something to bet on in friendly competitions.
Yi Zhi had already suspected Yan’s true identity, but this time, she was being *way* too blatant.
Wasn’t this practically announcing herself?
Yi Zhi was stunned.
She’d always thought she and Yan had an unspoken understanding: *I suspect you’re an Ability User, and you probably suspect the same of me. But since we’ve both ended up in this new world, let’s leave the past behind and just live our lives.*
So why had Yan suddenly pulled out this beginner’s ability pistol?
Of course, the bigger question on Yi Zhi’s mind was—
*How the hell did Yan bring this thing from the apocalypse to the modern world?*
Wait… did *she* also have a storage space?
Maybe Yan had stashed it in her space before the transition? That would make sense—Yi Zhi had done the same.
Yi Zhi watched as Yan rummaged through her bag, pulling out a folding fan as if organizing her belongings.
…Had she *accidentally* grabbed too much?
Deciding to give her a friendly heads-up, Yi Zhi spoke up: "Yan, don’t you think you should… put that away?" She tilted her chin toward the pistol.
Yan looked up, confused, then followed Yi Zhi’s gaze to the toy gun in her hand.
"Oh, this? It’s just a prop." Yan picked up the silver pistol with a grin.
Yi Zhi’s pupils constricted in alarm as she watched Yan pull the trigger. If the barrel hadn’t been pointed at the dorm wall, Yi Zhi would’ve lunged to stop her.
***Bang—***
Only the sound echoed—no energy bullet.
Yi Zhi recognized the familiar noise instantly. Yan smirked at her, clearly amused.
*This woman is downright* ***evil***. She was *toying* with her.
Of course it wouldn’t fire—Yan hadn’t channeled *any* ability energy into it.
"Did you bring it with you?" Yi Zhi asked.
If Yan had *only* smuggled this beginner’s pistol, that was one thing. But the apocalypse had produced far deadlier weapons—especially those designed for ordinary survivors.
"I bought it. Thought it’d be fun for photos. Cool, right? I always loved those movies where the female agent whips out a tiny gun from under her skirt." Yan sighed nostalgically.
Yi Zhi studied her expression. *Alright, confirmed. She genuinely just wants to use it for pictures.*
Still, Yan had sidestepped the real question.
*"Bought it?"* What kind of answer was that? Every Ability User had to *buy* these things.
"Just be careful with it," Yi Zhi said flatly.
"It’s a *toy* gun. Chill." Yan waved her off dismissively.
Yi Zhi: *"…"*
Listen to that. *Listen to that.* The fact that Yan called it a *toy* was proof enough—only an *advanced* Ability User would dismiss it so casually.
A shadow flickered in Yi Zhi’s eyes. Even now, she couldn’t pinpoint what kind of Ability User Yan was.
In this peaceful modern world, there was hardly any need to use their powers. Yi Zhi’s Wood Ability had been reduced to gardening and flower arrangements.
If Yan really was a Wind or Air Ability User, as Yi Zhi suspected, she had no idea how that would translate in the present day.
"Does Zhu Jue know?" Yi Zhi asked casually.
"Of course. We bought it together. Pretty sure it’s a one-of-a-kind piece, though," Yan replied.
Yi Zhi: *"…"*
*Ah. So* ***both*** *of you came here from the apocalypse.*
No wonder they acted like such love-struck fools in the modern world—they’d *both* crossed over together.
Naturally, anything brought from the apocalypse would be unique.
Yi Zhi brushed off the latter remark, though her mind lingered on Zhu Jue, Yan’s boyfriend.
*What kind of Ability User is he?*
The two of them had integrated into modern life *flawlessly*—playing the parts of ordinary students, carefully controlling their grades, acting like lovestruck idiots. If Yi Zhi hadn’t been observing them since the start of the semester, picking up on subtle clues, she’d *still* be in the dark.
"Don’t scare people. Just… be mindful. We live in a *civilized* society now," Yi Zhi finally said, swallowing a dozen other warnings.
Yan waved her hand. "Relax, relax. It won’t scare anyone if I don’t pull the trigger."
*Fine.* Yi Zhi let out a mental sigh. Yan probably *was* just using it as a prop. Besides, advanced Ability Users knew better—without energy input, pulling the trigger would only produce a harmless sound.
And honestly? The couple was usually harmonious, easy to get along with—stable, even-tempered. Not the type to suddenly snap and start slaughtering people.
This was a society governed by laws. Even Ability Users couldn’t run wild.
Still, Yi Zhi felt an odd sense of responsibility settle over her. *First a pistol—just for fun—but what’s next? A rocket launcher?*
*No, no. Surely not.* She mentally reassured herself.
But then her thoughts took a darker turn.
In the apocalypse, she’d seen high-level Ability User couples turn on each other—their battles often causing *indiscriminate* destruction.
Yi Zhi: *Expression instantly serious.jpg*
Even without knowing their exact abilities, she suddenly felt the weight of an unspoken duty pressing down on her.
Although the relationship between these two lovebirds seems stable for now, matters of the heart are unpredictable—the temptations of modern society are far greater than in the post-apocalyptic world.
Supervision—from now on, she would be the love supervisor.
Yan had no idea what Yi Zhi was thinking at that moment. She was busy sending messages to Juejue.
Returning to the dorm with her things, a sudden idea flashed through Yan’s mind.
**[Yan]:** Juejue! Ugh! I forgot to ask Lu Chen at the dimensional convenience store. If we get another chance, we could just use the store’s portal to go home and save on travel fees!
**[Juejue]:** Great idea! But our schedules might not align with the store’s opening times.
The first time Yan used the "anywhere door" at the dimensional convenience store, she’d only thought about how convenient it would be for Kaka’s travels. Since she and Juejue rarely went far, she hadn’t considered it for herself.
But just now, as she was tallying her expenses from the dimensional store on her phone, she saw the high-speed rail ticket purchase from a few days ago—and the idea struck her.
**[Yan]:** Still, it’s just a thought. This time we’re with Brother Xiao, and the door to the dimensional store is unpredictable. Who knows where it’ll appear next?
In Boys’ Dorm 414, Zhu Jue let his roommates pick from five folding fans before turning back to chat with his girlfriend on his phone.
He didn’t notice Xiao Qingnang watching him with a peculiar gaze.
Xiao Qingnang slowly unfolded the fan in his hand, then glanced at the others his roommates held.
After examining each one carefully, his eyes flickered. Unless he was mistaken, these fans all seemed to be the work of that General Dong he knew.
Back then, he’d cured that spoiled nobleman’s son, only to land himself in trouble. It took help from many to get him out of prison, and even as a healer, the wounds from torture were hard to mend.
While recovering, Xiao Qingnang changed his identity and continued wandering the Great Zhou Dynasty as a traveling physician. He went to the coast in search of herbs, and while treating villagers in a fishing community, he encountered pirates.
Luckily, imperial troops arrived swiftly. He was rescued—and taken to the local military camp. The eastern seas were often raided by foreign pirates, and the battles were fierce. The army’s medics were already overwhelmed.
Xiao Qingnang, a physician who’d just been saved, naturally stayed to help, saving many lives.
It was there that he met his friend—a man who’d abandoned the scholar’s brush for the sword, given up the imperial exams to enlist, and risen from a lowly soldier to a general whose name struck fear into enemies: General Ninghai, Dong Yuanzhi.
Xiao Qingnang never learned why Dong Yuanzhi had forsaken the civil path. But with nowhere else to go and the coastal war raging, he lingered for nearly two years, treating the general’s wounds time and again.
The military didn’t keep men of unclear origins, and Xiao Qingnang’s reputation as the "Faultless Physician" was soon uncovered. Despite being a commoner, he formed a deep bond with General Dong, then already a fifth-rank officer.
He also learned that, despite his scholarly background, General Dong always carried a recorder with him. For some reason, he despised paper and brush, rarely touching them. Yet rumors said his calligraphy and paintings were exquisite—each stroke priceless.
Only when Xiao Qingnang prepared to leave the camp and continue his travels did General Dong fall silent for days. On the eve of his departure, the general gifted him a scroll.
Xiao Qingnang once asked why General Dong refused to wield brush and ink again. The man wouldn’t answer, only saying that if anyone claimed to possess his works outside the military, unless they were fans, they were certainly fakes.
Xiao Qingnang asked why.
General Dong replied that in his youth, he’d owed a great debt. For his benefactor, he’d crafted countless hand-painted and calligraphy fans—but none of his other works had ever left his hands.
Yet the fans before Xiao Qingnang now… He ran his fingers over the paper, then examined the joints of the ribs. These… were not modern creations.
Zhu Jue—where had they gotten these fans?
