After her Favorability reached 1, Ye Can felt everything around her become strikingly clear and real.
Motes of dust floated faintly in the beams of light piercing the night mist. The roar of cars speeding along the road vibrated subtly. Even the perfume from the woman beside her carried a lingering warmth.
Every detail screamed authenticity. More importantly, Ye Can was hungry.
Just like before, she sensed a soul-deep hunger gnawing at her.
It was the kind of ravenous craving that hit when you were starving and suddenly tasted something delicious.
It was desire incarnate.
Ye Can turned to Lin Zixi beside her, eyes filled with longing. In the quiet car, a loud gurgle erupted from her stomach, impossible to ignore.
But Ye Can had no intention of hiding it. As Lin Zixi looked over in surprise, she admitted frankly, “I’m hungry.”
Lin Zixi blinked in astonishment. “You haven’t had dinner?”
Ye Can nodded with a hum.
Far from skipping just dinner, she hadn’t eaten a thing since dying.
Like Fanhua Film City, Pine View Villa was quite a distance from the city center. The drive was lit only by lonely streetlamps, devoid of any human warmth.
Lin Zixi couldn’t spot a place to eat nearby, but then remembered a bag of small bread rolls on the back seat. She told Ye Can to grab them herself.
Ye Can frowned, clutching her growling stomach with one hand, and didn’t move.
Thinking she was turning up her nose at them, Lin Zixi said, “You don’t want to eat them? The texture’s nothing special, but they’ll fill you up.”
Ye Can wasn’t that picky. “I can’t reach them.” Her night vision was sharp; she’d just eyed the distance and decided it was a stretch.
Lin Zixi was good-natured about it. She pulled over to the roadside, got out, and hauled all the snacks from the back seat, dumping them into Ye Can’s lap.
“That should tide you over. Have a proper meal once you’re home.”
Ye Can glanced at her, said nothing—no thanks—and swiftly tore into the packaging.
The first bite conquered her tongue. Forget everything else; the food in this world was crafted realistically delicious.
With something in her stomach, Ye Can perked up. Besides the bread rolls, Lin Zixi’s car held chocolates and Snickers bars.
Ye Can took a liking to the chocolate flavor, even pocketing the wrappers carefully, planning to stock up once she reached her current residence.
After driving for over half an hour, Ye Can finished all the snacks and felt somewhat full. Lin Zixi, watching her devour so much in one go, marveled inwardly at youngsters’ appetites.
She glanced at Ye Can, curiosity piqued. “Kid, how old are you?”
The term “kid” made Ye Can freeze; suddenly, her meal didn’t taste so good anymore.
She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and turned to scrutinize Lin Zixi. “What did you call me?”
Lin Zixi caught her gaze from the corner of her eye. Ye Can’s dark eyes reflected the surrounding lights like glittering stars, paired with her radiant, strikingly vivid face.
Lin Zixi found the night’s events bizarre: picking up a beautiful kid on the roadside and personally driving her home—prime story material. For a fleeting moment, she’d wanted to flesh out Ye Can’s backstory, leading to the question.
But clearly, Ye Can hated the nickname. Fair enough; modern young people did.
Lin Zixi rephrased. “So… how old are you, exactly?”
Dodging the nickname didn’t help. Ye Can declared, “Nineteen. Nineteen years old. And my name is Ye Can. You’re allowed to use it.”
The domineering tone only reinforced Lin Zixi’s impression of her as a spoiled, arrogant rich kid. Lin Zixi said lightly, “Nineteen? I thought you were still a minor. It’s only mid-December—aren’t you on break already?”
Ye Can racked her brain for what “break” meant, pieced it together, and replied, “Barely.”
She’d stopped going to school before dying, and this world’s identity had no schooling obligations. Was she supposed to attend ghost school?
Most schools in the country were still in session, though. Lin Zixi pondered briefly and figured the kid must study abroad.
The rest of the drive passed in light Q&A until they reached Pine View Villa.
Ye Can hopped out and peered through the car window at Lin Zixi. Still in the driver’s seat, Lin Zixi reminded her, “Ye Can, be careful on the way back.”
Ye Can nodded. “You too.”
No sooner had she spoken than a cold, mechanical voice echoed in her mind. Ye Can’s brows furrowed; she froze in place.
Seeing she hadn’t left, Lin Zixi smiled. “What, you don’t want to go home?”
Ye Can tugged her lips into a half-smile. “Lin Zixi, I’ll come find you in a few days to repay the favor.”
Lin Zixi curved her eyes in amusement. “No need for repayment—just get home safe, and that’s good karma for me. Ye Can, don’t walk alone at night anymore.”
Lin Zixi waved goodbye. Ye Can watched the car’s taillights fade into the distance before turning and entering Pine View Villa’s gates.
The security booth held two guards; Ye Can eyed them as she passed. They breathed, gave off heat—alive.
Real people.
With that conclusion, Ye Can strode boldly into Pine View Villa—her temporary abode.
Following the implanted info and memories, she meandered with hands behind her back until she found her place.
A standalone villa deep in the villa complex.
Ye Can stood at her door, gazing up at the pitch-black expanse ahead, one brow arched, then stepped inside.
She unlocked the door with her fingerprint and flicked on all the lights. Bathed in brightness, she looked up at the resplendent crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
She thought, This outshines night-luminescent pearls by far—this is true daylight brightness.
Ye Can glanced down at the gleaming, mirror-polished floor beneath her feet.
Without a word, she kicked off her shoes and socks, padding barefoot across it. The chill shot straight to her crown; eyes half-closed in bliss, she slowly ascended the stairs.
Like a queen surveying her domain, Ye Can inspected every room on the second floor, ending at the study at the far end.
The desk held her computer and phone; behind her, rows of bookshelves. Ye Can wandered barefoot among them, pacing back and forth to absorb the needed info, then pulled out a book.
She curled up on the sofa, flipping through a few pages. Timing it right, she picked up the phone.
From the received memories, Ye Can knew this was a messaging device. She examined it closely, marveling at how such a small thing held so much.
She unlocked it with her fingerprint. The screen lit up, wallpaper flowing in a cascade of colors, revealing the home interface.
Trying to play it cool but fumbling awkwardly, Ye Can tapped tentatively—and accidentally hit the camera button. Suddenly, the nearby computer appeared on her screen.
Ye Can glanced between the phone and the desk, intrigued.
Eyes on the capture button, she snapped a photo with a click.
Click, click. Several shots later, she was hooked on the gadget.
The night passed. With the brain-voice’s guidance, clever Ye Can adapted to local life.
She saved Lin Zixi’s number, then glanced at another in her contacts—Ye Shen.
Ye Shen was the household servant assigned here; anything she needed, just call Ye Shen.
Ye Can figured Ye Shen was a paper person. No need to summon her unless necessary. Used to her freedom, she wanted no dealings with constructs.
Dawn broke quickly. After a sleepless night, Ye Can stretched, found a spot by the window, and sat in meditation.
Mid-meditation, she dozed off.
The dream was hazy chaos. A blood-red sun hung overhead, casting vivid light everywhere. Dressed in white, hands in pockets, Ye Can strolled through a crowd of paper-thin people amid swirling colors.
After an unknowable time, she spotted a bamboo stage. Lin Zixi stood off to the side, script in hand, talking to those around her.
Ye Can halted, tilting her head to observe. In the silent space, a click rang out. Foreboding hit her; she looked up to see the backdrop behind the high platform crash down toward Lin Zixi.
The dream’s final image burned in her mind: Lin Zixi’s panicked face.
Everything shattered. Ye Can jolted awake, eyes on the coffee table before her, brows furrowed.
Her stomach growled again, but she ignored it. The cold voice returned: “Noon, twelve o’clock. Film crew set collapse. Lin Zixi in mortal danger. Go now.”
Ye Can cursed under her breath. “Yesterday a car crash, today this? Can’t you give her one peaceful day?”
The voice was utterly shameless: “No!”
Fuming, Ye Can blew a strand of hair from her forehead. She rose, headed to the bathroom, and muttered, “Allow me to tidy my appearance first.”
As if to spite Lin Zixi’s peril, Ye Can leisurely brushed her teeth, rinsed, washed her face, changed—emerging radiant—before sauntering out.
But the moment she left the room, she bolted for the underground garage. Drawing on the knowledge and memories, she started the car and floored the accelerator, speeding like lightning toward Lin Zixi’s location.
