Chapter 80

“I want… to give everyone a chance. What ultimate path this civilization takes—that will depend on all of you.”

That night, the two of them were exchanging breath in an incredibly intimate posture. Looking into Yin Yu’s eyes, deep like the darkness of stars, seeing her expression so gentle, without a trace of gloom or aggression, Zhu Ming felt that what she said was true.

Objective facts did not shift based on willpower. The truer it was, the more disheartening it became; it was practically unconquerable.

Zhu Ming gazed at her silently, enveloped by the darkness, within Yin Yu’s water-like gentleness. Her own sharpness and edges seemed to be smoothed over, contained, and laid to rest.

The two mobile phones on the bedside table suddenly vibrated, breaking the silence between them.

She had thought these were just props, but they were functional. Picking one up, a text message was displayed: Day 1 Assessment: Dad’s Score: -15 points. Failed.

Zhu Ming: “…”

Who could tell her what the starting score was?

This score was utterly infuriating. Zhu Ming couldn’t help but be curious about Yin Yu’s score. While she wasn’t paying attention, Zhu Ming snatched her phone: Day 1 Assessment: Mom’s Score: 55 points. Failed.

The corner of Zhu Ming’s mouth couldn’t help but lift a bit higher. She tossed the phone back to Yin Yu and burst into laughter. “What’s the use of a higher score than mine, you still failed! Hahaha!”

Yin Yu rolled over, pretending not to hear Zhu Ming’s mockery. “So what if I passed? Lying on the same bed as you, I couldn’t run away even if danger came.”

It wasn’t fun if the person being mocked didn’t react. Zhu Ming sneered and turned over to sleep.

On the not-so-large double bed, the two were back-to-back, with a clear dividing line between them.

At first, Zhu Ming thought she wouldn’t fall asleep easily, after all, Yin Yu was lying behind her. But she quickly realized she was wrong. In just a short while, she sank into a groggy, half-asleep state.

In this state, if there was any movement from the outside world, she thought she’d wake up quickly.

But in reality, it was as if she’d encountered Sleep Paralysis. She could feel some things, but couldn’t wake up.

The season in this dungeon was also winter, but indoors there was heating, much warmer than outside. Zhu Ming only needed to wear a shirt to not feel cold. But at night, even wrapped in a blanket, a sinister chill that froze right down to the bone marrow rose through the cracks in the floorboards.

Zhu Ming’s hands and feet were icy cold, yet her limbs couldn’t move, as if pinned firmly by something.

She rested with her eyes closed, yet felt her eyelids aching and weary, and could make out a blurry dark shadow.

A rustling sound arose beside the bed. Suddenly, a strange little thing emerged. The moonlight outlined the silhouette of this thing; it seemed human-shaped.

But it had no face, no concrete form—just pitch-black, like a shadow.

Zhu Ming lay stiffly on the bed, unable to move, only able to “watch” it climb up along the edge of the bed. As it approached, the fingers nearest the edge of the bed grew increasingly numb, as if turning into ice popsicles.

It was weightless, stopping for a moment, then continuing its movement.

Zhu Ming sluggishly thought that perhaps she should close her eyes. But her eyes were already closed. Her current “seeing” wasn’t entirely visual.

Zhu Ming didn’t know what this thing wanted, but it was only the first day. Surely it couldn’t… pose too deep a danger.

Just as she thought this, she noticed a point of light appear above her.

This thing was crawling above her head, and it had turned on a mobile phone!

The light flashed briefly. Zhu Ming heard a strange, wheezing sound like a wild beast’s panting. Icy breath surged toward her face. In that instant, Zhu Ming felt as if she were outside, the blood in her veins flowing with crushed ice.

A faint sense of crisis suddenly arose within her. Her stiff fingertips trembled slowly, trying to move.

After some unknown amount of time, Zhu Ming had the illusion that she had turned into a giant popsicle. It was then that a strange light merged into the darkness before her. She had a feeling—another thing had appeared beside her!

Unsure what had happened, the chill receded slightly.

Muffled, subtle sounds drifted into her ears. Zhu Ming caught a few fragmented syllables:

“That’s enough, don’t…”

“Why not?”

“Her and me… stop…”

“But she’s in the negative…”

“No!”

The final roar jolted the groggy Zhu Ming awake. The woman who lay frozen on the bed shuddered violently, then broke out in a cold sweat.

She rubbed her hands and arms, feeling an icy coldness throughout her body. Her calf muscles nearly cramped, and her nose felt slightly stuffed.

Zhu Ming braced herself against the bed and sat up. She sneezed several times, wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, and only then reached out to push the person next to her.

“What is it?” Yin Yu was sleeping defenselessly, only waking when persistently pushed. She yawned and asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Did you hear any sounds just now?”

As she spoke, Zhu Ming only then noticed how hoarse and unpleasant her voice sounded.

“No.” Yin Yu slowly sat up, turned on the bedside lamp, and looked back at Zhu Ming’s face. It was ashen white, without a trace of blood.

She reached out in surprise and touched Zhu Ming’s forehead. “So cold.”

A wisp of chill emanated from Zhu Ming’s body, clear to Yin Yu sitting right next to her. She looked Zhu Ming over carefully, finding her state from head to toe worrying, as if she were a corpse just brought out of a freezer. “What happened to you?”

“I experienced Sleep Paralysis.” Zhu Ming rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering. With a hint of anger, she said, “Seems like it was because I had negative points… What does a negative score matter? We both failed, why am I the only one suffering?”

She looked at Yin Yu beside her, whose face still held the flush of deep sleep, her eyes half-closed and hazy with drowsiness. Clearly, she had been sleeping very soundly.

Yin Yu smiled and simply wrapped her own blanket around Zhu Ming as well. “Feeling any better now?”

Zhu Ming assessed her condition. Suddenly, she said quietly, “Pour me a glass of water.”

“Okay.”

Once Yin Yu had slipped on her slippers and left the bedroom, Zhu Ming quickly peeled off her own blanket, now ice-cold like iron, and wrapped herself tightly in Yin Yu’s blanket, which still carried her body heat.

The blanket was soft and warm, with a faint hint of pear blossom fragrance.

Zhu Ming let out a soft sigh of relief.

This was her first time experiencing the agony of such freezing cold. Since she was a child, her body temperature had been abnormal. She detested high temperatures far more than the cold, and she’d never had the feeling of her ears freezing off.

Unexpectedly, in this dungeon, with her supernatural abilities suppressed, she truly got a good taste of what freezing felt like.

Extreme cold produced a sensation similar to burning. For a moment, one couldn’t tell if their body was frozen or scalded. Every inch of skin tingled with fiery pain. Pressing hard on it, it still felt numb and stiff.

Yin Yu quickly returned with a cup of hot water. Zhu Ming eagerly reached out to take it, shaking it a little and splashing some out. The water spilled onto her numb hand, yet Zhu Ming couldn’t even judge its temperature.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“Mhm.”

Zhu Ming held the cup for a while, warming up. Some sensation returned to her hands. The water temperature had already dropped significantly. She gulped it down, but the hot stream entering her stomach quickly seemed to turn into a cold current.

And the warmth in the blanket wrapped around her had already disappeared. Zhu Ming rubbed her arms in frustration.

“Still cold?” Yin Yu reached out and touched Zhu Ming’s arm. She didn’t even need to ask. “Seems like it.”

Zhu Ming curled her lip and tried to get out of bed. “I’m going to sit by the radiator for a bit. Go back to sleep.”

But under these circumstances, Yin Yu couldn’t possibly sleep. She watched Zhu Ming huddle against the radiator, and as she watched, she suddenly laughed.

Zhu Ming looked back with a sharp glare, her fierce brows and eyes revealing some displeasure. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing. You look a bit like a hamster.”

She was tall and slender, standing out in a crowd. Unexpectedly, when curled up, she seemed so small, and with the bulky blanket, she looked entirely round and adorable.

Zhu Ming gave a cold laugh. “And what are you, a cat?”

Yin Yu tilted her head. “I want to be human.”

…

For the rest of the night, Zhu Ming stayed leaning against the radiator, sleeping incredibly restlessly, constantly dozing off.

She didn’t know when Yin Yu fell asleep. She wouldn’t care anyway. What woke her was that jangling, childish voice.

“Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling! It’s 8 AM! Mom and Dad, rise and shine! The Little Princess should wake up too! Another happy day is about to begin!”

Snapped awake, Zhu Ming threw off the blanket and lunged forward. A twisted smile appeared on her face. Dear Little Princess, daytime has arrived, time to settle last night’s score!

She didn’t know who that ghostly thing later in the night was, but the Little Princess’s voice had rung out all day yesterday, and she wouldn’t forget it so easily!

But Zhu Ming had forgotten that she’d spent the night huddled against the radiator, sleeping in an uncomfortable position. Her body was completely stiff. So this forward lunge sent her whole body flying.

Slip— Zhu Ming slid all the way into the living room.

Yin Yu, who had woken up even before the alarm, was in the kitchen cooking congee. Hearing the sound, she turned around, momentarily stunned.

She hesitated, then raised a hand to greet the “Dad” sprawled on the floor. “Good morning? Dear, are you exercising?”

Zhu Ming flashed a twisted smile. “Yeah, morning exercise for a healthy life. Wait right there, I’ll go wake up our darling daughter!”

Having said this, she didn’t get up to stretch her limbs. Instead, she just half-crawled, half-lurched in this grotesque manner straight into the Princess Room.

Inside the pink, sunny Princess Room, the Little Princess yawned lazily, thinking about what fresh tricks she’d use today. The ones she’d played yesterday could be swapped out.

But before her yawn could even finish, she saw a disheveled, wild-haired female ghost charge straight in recklessly. The monster burst through the door, rushed directly onto her bed, and messed up her pink blankets and sheets—even smearing several gray marks on them.

Little Princess: “…AHHH!!!”

She couldn’t help but shriek, “What are you doing?!”

Zhu Ming slowly raised her head from within the messy strands of black hair and said, “Your father, sacrificing his image just to make his child happy. Isn’t this incredibly childlike, extra caring towards the family, especially focused on father-daughter bonding?”