Chapter 2: Life Is Just Too Difficult for Me

A dizzy spell overtook her mind, and when she opened her eyes again, Chao Xu found herself in a completely different place.

No, that wasn’t quite right. She wasn’t actually standing at all—she was lying down.

She brushed aside whatever was covering her eyes and opened them to see a tangle of mottled shadows cast by trees above her, and the twinkling stars beyond. The air was damp, tinged with the earthy scent of soil. Only then did it dawn on her, belatedly, that she seemed to have been buried in a pit.

...

Damn it!

Which bastard was so utterly rotten to do this?

She scrambled to her feet, gave herself a good shake, and then another. After brushing off the thick layer of dead leaves covering her body, Chao Xu glanced down at the blood hole in her chest, still fresh and uncoagulated, and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Now she understood: this was a murder scene—and an extremely amateurish one at that.

They hadn’t even dug a proper grave. Just a layer of leaves? Pathetic. Completely unworthy of her standards.

Couldn’t they at least have chosen a crystal coffin?

No sense of romance at all.

And honestly, the current crop of killers was rather disappointing.

Hadn’t they even watched Detective Conan Blue? They didn’t know the hundred ways to properly dispose of a body.

Wait, what on earth were the hundred ways to properly dispose of a body?

She blinked in confusion. When she couldn’t recall, she gave up thinking about it.

She patted at her damp clothes, then suddenly froze and looked up at the sky, her gaze growing unfocused as she muttered, “There are so many stars tonight... it’s almost as if...”

The accompanying ball of fluff, still dizzy from traversing the space-time tunnel, was swaying unsteadily and nearly toppled over.

Hearing Chao Xu’s unfinished words, the little ball immediately tensed, pressing for more: What is it almost like?

She glanced at it, eyes deadly serious, so much so that the fluff ball couldn’t help but feel nervous. Could it be that its host was harboring some deep secret?

Under its expectant gaze, Chao Xu pointed at the stars. “Someone once told me that when there are a lot of stars, it’s much more likely to rain the next day. Should we go buy an umbrella?”

She added, with great earnestness, “I really can’t get caught in the rain, or something irreversible might happen.”

The fluff ball: ...

To hell with the irreversible consequences. It was wrong; it should never have harbored such unrealistic hopes for its host.

But since it had signed the contract, it had to see it through—even if it meant crawling.

In silent resignation, it pulled up its information panel and looked at Chao Xu. I don’t think it’ll be that complicated. To prevent any issues with the mission, I specifically arranged for you to have the identity of a wealthy heiress. As long as we can be acknowledged by your family, we’re guaranteed to live the high life and do whatever we please in this world!

The phrase “do whatever we please” immediately piqued Chao Xu’s interest.

She didn’t care much for luxury, but she did like the idea of being able to go wherever she wanted. Ideally, if someone annoyed her, she’d just beat them up—cripple them, even, if she felt like it.

Don’t ask why—she just liked crabs.

With her goal in mind, she brightened. “So what are we waiting for? Where’s the map? Let’s go!”

The fluff ball fell silent again, scratching its fuzzy head awkwardly after a long pause. About that... I think I forgot to load the character map for this world. All I know is your name here is Chao Si. Should we just ask around?

Chao Xu: ...

She should have known better than to trust this useless creature.

Living the high life? In the end, she’d have to rely on herself.

This was too much.

With a sigh, Chao Xu resigned herself and got up, intending to walk out of the woods and see where the path led.

But after wandering for what felt like ages, passing the same tree for the umpteenth time, Chao Xu finally realized she was probably lost.

The fluff ball came to the same realization, its voice incredulous: Host, are you directionally challenged?

She didn’t know what that meant, but Chao Xu nodded obediently.

Now the fluff ball was truly in despair.

It had always thought failing the spatial orientation test for years on end made it useless enough, but to think it would end up bound to a host who had no sense of direction at all.

What kind of cursed luck was this?

Staring up at the sky in speechless agony, the fluff ball dabbed at its eyes with a tiny handkerchief and suggested, Maybe we should just give up and apply for erasure.

Chao Xu cleared her throat, a little guilty, and offered, “I think the reason we can’t get out is that there are too many trees. If there were fewer, maybe we could see the way?”

The fluff ball propped its chin on its paw, spreading itself in despair. But how could the trees just disappear? Are we supposed to uproot them all? Ha, as if...

It didn’t even finish before a cracking sound echoed nearby.

Chao Xu had casually kicked the large tree next to her, and in the next second, its thick roots snapped completely in two.

The fluff ball’s beady black eyes blinked in disbelief. It turned to see a row of trees lying neatly felled behind them.

Who was it? Where were they? What were they supposed to do?

Unable to process the shock, the fluff ball crashed—mentally and emotionally.

Chao Xu herself seemed oblivious to her own terrifying strength. She dusted off her hands lightly and prepared to find someone to ask for directions.

A glance at the surroundings suggested she was probably on a school campus—a lot of the buildings were still lit. It shouldn’t be hard to find a passing student.

With this in mind, Chao Xu perked up and continued her wandering.

Perhaps luck was on her side. She hadn’t gone far before she encountered someone.

She beamed, waved cheerfully, and called out, “Hello, I’m Chao Si. Do you know where my home is?”

“Who the hell knows where your home is? Don’t get in my—” The person she’d run into sounded impatient, but as soon as he saw Chao Xu’s face, his words died in his throat. He reflexively hurled his phone at her, then took off at a stumbling run, shrieking in terror, “Aaaah! A ghost!”

You’re the ghost—your whole family are ghosts!

Annoyed, Chao Xu frowned, picked up the phone now lying shattered on the ground, wiped the screen, and, finding it still worked, decided to search her own name.

She hadn’t held out much hope for the search, but to her surprise, the body’s original owner was actually quite famous.

The moment she typed in “Chao Si,” a string of related terms appeared. She tapped one at random.

News articles filled the screen.

But the headline that stood out most, highlighted in red, read: “Heiress of the Chao Family, Chao Si, missing for four days, presumed dead. Imperial Capital’s Chao Family may soon change hands!”

Reading this, Chao Xu was speechless.

Damn it, she’d just figured out who she was and her family was about to lose everything. How was she supposed to play this game?