The beach fell eerily silent in an instant. Laughter and chatter vanished as nearly everyone stared in stunned silence at the thick, heavy gray clouds that blanketed the entire sky above them. Mouths hung open, but not a word was uttered.
The scene before them mirrored the apocalyptic visuals from a movie, something they had once watched without imagining it could ever become reality. Some stood frozen in shock, their feet instinctively retreating a step or two.
Suddenly, a deafening clap of thunder exploded in the sky, rolling with such force that it felt as if it could shake loose the organs within their chests. Young children wailed, turning to seek out their parents and burying themselves in their comforting arms amid soothing words.
A humid, howling wind swept across the beach, carrying with it the first few raindrops, large as beans. Within moments, the drizzle turned into a torrential downpour, soaking the stunned beachgoers to the bone.
Some dashed for shelter beneath umbrellas, only to see the wind snatch them away seconds later. One man stood dumbfounded, watching his umbrella fly off, only to realize that the entire beach was in chaos. Umbrellas, towels, life rings, and even inflatable rafts and paddleboards from the shallow water were being tossed and tumbled by the storm.
Chaos erupted. What had been a picturesque vacation scene dissolved into frantic shouting and disarray. Cries of “Find shelter!” and “Watch out!” mingled with the sound of parents calling for children and friends shouting for one another. All the while, screams of pain erupted as people were struck by flying objects or trampled in the mayhem.
Though an orderly evacuation might have allowed everyone to reach the safety of buildings, such composure was impossible. In the face of disaster, survival instincts took over. People were consumed by self-preservation, an innate reaction—except in the rare cases where the bonds of blood or deep emotion compelled them to turn back for someone else.
It took only moments for the chaos to lead to injuries. In the surging crowd, some people fell, trampled underfoot by the panicked masses. Initially, cries for help and resistance could be heard, but those voices soon faded as the crowd pressed on relentlessly.
A man managed to protect his mother and reach safety inside a building, only to realize that his wife and child weren’t with them. He braved the rain and wind, rushing back to search. Fortunately, he found them among the next group of evacuees, his wife supported by others and clutching their child tightly.
Relief turned to confrontation as his wife slapped him across the face. “When it mattered most, you only cared about your mother! If it weren’t for these strangers, I’d have been trampled to death! You didn’t even look back to notice I had fallen!”
“I didn’t mean to! As soon as I realized, I came back to find you!” he pleaded.
“Right, you
never
mean to! Your mother raised you alone, so you owe her everything, right? She’ll always come before me and our child! Well, I finally see the truth now. Get lost—I’ll take care of myself and our son from now on!”
Cradling her child, limping, the woman walked away. The man hesitated briefly but ultimately turned back toward his mother.
…
Some families were torn apart despite surviving the ordeal. Others found their loved ones, only to discover they were too late. A man clutched the lifeless body of his relative, wailing in grief, but his cries were drowned out by the increasingly furious roar of the sea.
Tears streaming down his face, he turned back toward the ocean, only to see towering, gray waves moving toward him like a massive wall. In the next moment, the sea swallowed the beach, surging toward the coastal buildings and smashing through sturdy walls as if they were brittle cookies.
As the tsunami struck the eastern coast of the peninsula, warning sirens blared across several seaside cities. Meanwhile, in a disaster response command center, teams of analysts sat in front of monitors, working frantically to assess the destruction in the affected areas.
“There’s no earthquake data, and no signs of undersea volcanic eruptions! Where is this tsunami coming from?”
“Could it be caused by the typhoon? Data shows wind speeds in the coastal waters of several cities have already surpassed Category 12!”
“My God! The data shows wind speeds are still increasing—and so fast!”
“This… this data doesn’t make sense! The rate of escalation is too rapid! This is… this is a super typhoon! Quickly, issue a full-scale typhoon warning for the entire peninsula! This isn’t a regular typhoon. The wind speeds are going to surpass Category 16!”
…
The typhoon warnings issued across Lushan Peninsula varied depending on the region. Areas far from the coast remained relatively calm. While the eastern coastal cities were battered by hurricanes, torrential rain, and tsunamis, the Lushan scenic resort area still seemed tranquil.
“Is it just me, or did it start raining? I felt a few drops on my face…”
“Must be your imagination! Look at that blazing sun—does this look like rain to you? Stop making excuses and let’s get going. We’re hiking to the summit today, no matter what!”
“It’s getting windy now. The breeze feels nice and cool…”
“Cool? I’m roasting out here. I hope it rains again tonight and cools things down.”
“Rain again? That’ll ruin all the fun.”
“Nah, just like last time—it rains a bit at night and clears up during the day.”
“What, you think you’re some kind of rain god now? Calling the shots on when it rains or stops?”
…
While the tourists outside grumbled about the heat, Yu Zhenzhen spotted the typhoon warning on the news and immediately shouted, “Mom! Come look at this! Is this real? The news says a super typhoon is about to hit Lushan Peninsula. Will it affect us here?”
Yu Xi, who was upstairs on the balcony doing advanced ab roller exercises, immediately stopped and came downstairs. These physically demanding exercises, once challenging, now felt effortless to her, requiring more than 50 reps to break a sweat.
By the time Yu Xi joined her, Yu Zhenzhen had been lounging on the sofa reading, with the news playing as background noise. A few minutes earlier, multiple channels had interrupted programming to broadcast the super typhoon warning. For Yu Zhenzhen, the concept of typhoons never went beyond the idea of a Category 10 storm. Hearing about a “super typhoon” for the first time left her stunned.
Yu Xi flipped through several channels and noticed that many had already suspended regular broadcasts, showing warning banners on screen instead. She was fully aware of what a super typhoon entailed. Such immense wind speeds were rarely encountered on land; they usually raged over the ocean, generating waves over 14 meters tall, obliterating visibility, and wreaking massive destruction.
If a super typhoon like this made landfall, the devastation would be unimaginable.
Without hesitation, Yu Xi picked up her phone to check the latest updates online. Although the internet in this world wasn’t as advanced as in her original one, it was still the fastest way to access breaking news.
Sure enough, the online s were even more detailed. Alongside the official typhoon warnings were firsthand accounts from the eastern coastal cities of the peninsula. Just thirty minutes ago, hurricanes, torrential rain, and tsunamis had swept across several beaches, causing numerous disappearances, casualties, and the destruction of nearly a third of the city’s buildings.
And this was only the first wave. If the predicted Category 16-plus super typhoon hit, even their current location would be affected.
This was an apocalyptic scenario. Yu Xi wasn’t about to take any chances. She quickly sprang into action.
Throwing a lightweight, sweat-wicking sports outfit to Yu Zhenzhen, she instructed her to change immediately. She also handed her a fully-equipped survival backpack and a compact thermal jacket to pack inside.
Yu Xi then rushed upstairs to secure the house. She locked all doors and windows, gathered all personal belongings—including laundry hanging on the balcony—and shut the glass-paneled wooden doors connecting the two upstairs rooms to the balcony.
She propped up the mattresses from both beds, flipping them vertically against the doors. Grabbing a hammer and long nails, she secured the mattresses in place with a few forceful strikes.
This makeshift barrier ensured that, short of the entire vacation house collapsing, the interior wouldn’t be completely wrecked by the typhoon and rain.
Downstairs, she used the same method on the two south-facing glass windows in the living room, reinforcing them with furniture from the room. A set of cabinets was moved to block the windows, nailed in place to prevent the glass from shattering under the storm’s fury.
Yu Xi turned off all the water and electricity main switches, changed into lightweight moisture-wicking athletic wear, and strapped on another survival backpack. She then collected all their personal belongings from the first floor and brought out two pairs of non-slip hiking shoes, urging Yu Zhenzhen to change into them.
“Where are we going?” Yu Zhenzhen, growing increasingly uneasy from Yu Xi’s swift preparations, stood there nervously, glancing at her.
“We’re heading to the hotel district and staying in the suite I reserved earlier,” Yu Xi replied. The room she had booked was right by the stairs and close to the hotel lobby—perfect for keeping updated on any developments. If heavy rains led to water overflow, they could easily retreat further up the stairs.
But such a scenario was unlikely. Yu Xi had chosen the high-altitude Luyuan Resort specifically to avoid floods and tsunamis.
“Will the typhoon really affect us here?”
Yu Xi noticed a faint tremble in Yu Zhenzhen’s voice. She gently patted her head. “I won’t lie to you and say no disaster is coming, nor do I know how severe it will be. But as long as I’m here, I will keep you safe.”
Yu Zhenzhen hesitated before speaking. “Are you… not mad at all?”
She knew deep down that her defiance often stemmed from exploiting Yu Xi’s guilt, giving her a sense of impunity. Her past rebellions were trivial pranks; no matter how bratty or temperamental she was, she knew Yu Xi would ultimately forgive her.
But this time was different. She had deliberately engaged in a fake early romance with Qu Yichen just to spite her mother. Afterward, guilt gnawed at her because she knew this act crossed a line—it struck at Yu Xi’s core.
For two years, Yu Xi had forgiven everything she said or did. So Yu Zhenzhen wanted to test the limits. Would Yu Xi finally lose her patience, withdraw her warmth and leave her again, cold and indifferent?
If she left, perhaps Yu Zhenzhen could rebuild the walls around her heart, shielding herself from the pain of trust and betrayal. Like a wounded animal, she’d learned to rely on her sharp defenses for survival. What terrified her wasn’t isolation, but the rollercoaster of hope, loss, and uncertainty.
When Yu Xi had abruptly taken her from school, she’d braced for abandonment. She expected to be sent back to her grandparents, cast aside yet again. Anger warred with fear, as she waited to be discarded. But then Yu Xi had told her she’d been reborn…
Yu Zhenzhen didn’t know if her own recklessness had played a part in Yu Xi’s past demise. But her mother’s determination to protect her seemed genuine. Should she dare to believe in her mom again?
As they walked from the scenic area toward the hotel district, Yu Xi noticed that the atmosphere around them was surprisingly calm.
The world wasn’t yet dominated by the internet, and smartphones were still a relatively new phenomenon. Most people didn’t have the habit of constantly staying online, which meant many were unaware of the storms and tsunamis that had struck coastal cities. Few had even noticed the super typhoon warnings.
This delay in information dissemination was worrisome.
Just as they were about to leave the scenic area, someone called out to them. It was Qu Yichen. His mood brightened visibly upon spotting Yu Zhenzhen.
It was already close to 11 a.m. Qu had just finished an early lunch and decided to explore the scenic area, only to run into them. Although he was slightly intimidated by Yu Xi, his desire to talk to Yu Zhenzhen drove him forward. He hurried over, but before he could speak, Yu Zhenzhen cut him off.
“Do you know about the typhoon?”
“What?”
“You haven’t been watching the news? The TV stations have issued a super typhoon warning. It’s very likely to affect us here. You’d better get back to your hotel and stay safe instead of wandering around!”
“What! But the weather looks fine. And yesterday’s forecast—”
“If you don’t believe me, forget it! I don’t have time to argue!” Yu Zhenzhen, already frazzled, had no patience to explain further to Qu Yichen. She turned to leave, but just then, the soft music playing through the scenic area’s loudspeakers abruptly switched to a typhoon warning announcement.
The announcement was a verbatim relay of the news about the super typhoon, hurriedly broadcast by the scenic area staff after receiving instructions from their superiors.
For the staff, the safety of the tourists was paramount. Upon receiving such alerts, they prioritized releasing information and making evacuation arrangements, even if the clear skies outside made the warning seem implausible. Despite their skepticism about whether the super typhoon would truly impact Luyuan Scenic Area, they treated it as an emergency.
However, the same doubts held by the staff also crept into the minds of the tourists.
A super typhoon? Making landfall in the eastern coastal cities? But this is the middle of the peninsula. Even if it reaches here, it might just mean some rain—if that.
“Is a typhoon really coming?” Qu Yichen looked up at the bright blue sky, his disbelief evident. “The weather’s so good—how is that possible?”
“The scenic area wouldn’t issue a fake alert. Several eastern coastal cities have already suffered severe destruction from tsunamis. It hasn’t hit the news yet, but the s are all over the internet,” Yu Xi interjected, her tone sharp. “You should head back to your hotel and take shelter.”
“But—my parents and the others have all gone up Luyuan Peak on the cable car…” For Qu Yichen, Yu Xi’s words carried even more weight than the official announcements.
“Then call them and tell them to come down!” Yu Zhenzhen snapped, shaking her head in frustration. “Why are you wasting time talking to us?”
Qu Yichen stammered a few “ohs” and began dialing his parents. Meanwhile, not far from them, a screen that usually displayed promotional advertisements switched to a live news feed.
The broadcast showed footage from ers stationed in the eastern coastal cities, providing firsthand updates. The visibility was extremely poor due to the high winds—helicopters couldn’t even fly. Braving the elements, the ers filmed from within buildings battered by hurricanes, torrential rain, and tsunamis.
The footage revealed devastating scenes: one-third of the city’s buildings destroyed, floodwaters rampaging, and remaining residents evacuating. Predictions stated that the super typhoon, with maximum average wind speeds exceeding 51 meters per second, would bring catastrophic damage to the entire city. Many citizens trapped by the tsunami were now sealing doors and windows, gathering food and water, hoping to survive.
The unsettling disaster visuals finally sparked panic among the tourists. People scrambled to call family members, share the news, and hurriedly prepare to return to their hotels. Some, unable to find their loved ones, began shouting and searching frantically.
Qu Yichen, now deeply worried, fumbled to call his parents. Watching the growing chaos, Yu Xi felt a strange sense of relief. Gripping Yu Zhenzhen’s arm, she led her back toward their hotel.
Once in the room, Yu Zhenzhen immediately turned on the television, flipping through news channels to monitor the situation closely. The hotel’s internal speakers broadcast typhoon warnings, and Yu Xi could hear the commotion outside: hurried footsteps and voices echoing through the hallways and stairwells.
On-screen, the live s from disaster zones were replaced with simulation graphics predicting the super typhoon’s path across the peninsula. Meanwhile, Yu Zhenzhen browsed online for additional information about the storm.
Yu Xi surveyed the suite’s two outward-facing glass windows and began reinforcing them.
Nearby, most of the tourists had retreated to their hotel rooms after half an hour of frenzied commotion. However, the hotel lobbies were now crowded with worried guests whose companions were still outside and couldn’t return in time.
Some were at Shenlongtan Cave, an hour’s drive away, exploring its depths with poor mobile reception. Others had taken the cable car up Luyuan Peak, a challenging spot to return from.
The cable car up Luyuan Peak operated in stages. The first leg reached the mountainside, where multiple attractions required visitors to explore on foot. Another cable car took tourists from the mountainside to the peak, but even from there, the summit required a final trek along a steep path resembling a sky ladder—often the most crowded part of the journey.
If Qu Yichen’s parents and their group were only at the mountainside attractions, returning would be manageable. But if they were at the summit, descending would involve long queues for the cable car or a winding trek back down that could take at least an hour and a half.
When Qu Yichen’s parents finally noticed his missed calls and returned them, they were on the cable car heading toward the summit.
“What’s going on? The hotel has issued typhoon warnings, but they’re still letting you go up? Didn’t they warn you?” Qu Yichen exclaimed in a mix of panic and frustration.
“They must have sent the notification after we got on the cable car, so we missed it,” Qu Yichen’s parents explained, trying to comfort him. “Don’t worry. As soon as we reach the summit, we’ll get in line for the cable car back down. If the line is too long, we’ll walk back to the mid-mountain area.”
“Don’t walk! Stay at the summit and follow the main group. Don’t act on your own!” Qu Yichen shouted, raising his voice as much as possible to overcome the poor signal on the mountain.
The bright, sunny weather outside the cable car and the presence of many other tourists made Qu Yichen’s parents dismiss his urgency as another episode of his overthinking. They recalled past typhoons in Lushan Peninsula, which were commonplace and never particularly alarming. In fact, their son used to love typhoon days because schools closed, and the family could enjoy staying home together, eating and celebrating like a holiday.
Even during a particularly severe typhoon when a branch shattered their window and the family endured two days without electricity or water, it wasn’t catastrophic because they were in Blue City near the coast. Now, they were inland and on a mountain, so the impact of the typhoon, even if it made landfall, seemed negligible to them.
Qu Yichen remained worried but reasoned that other parents and classmates were also on the mountain, and the scenic area staff would ensure everyone’s safety. He stayed in his room, staring at the stockpiled supplies in the corner to comfort himself. As long as his parents descended safely, even if they were temporarily stuck at the hotel, they would be fine.
Restless, he eventually packed an emergency bag and went to the hotel lobby to wait for news. Finding an empty sofa, he sat among a crowd of tourists. Many were chatting about the tsunami, expressing relief that they hadn’t chosen to vacation at the affected beaches, though some mentioned knowing people who were there and now couldn’t be reached.
Others lamented that the holiday had been ruined, predicting that even if the central and western regions weren’t severely impacted, many attractions would close, making the trip a waste.
Amid these conversations, Qu Yichen felt somewhat reassured by the company. But this relative calm shattered within half an hour when those near the windows noticed something strange: in the middle of the day, nearing noon, the surroundings darkened as if night had fallen.
The trees outside the hotel began swaying violently in the wind.
Sounds of banging echoed as doors slammed shut or were blown open, chairs and umbrellas in the garden clattered against walls, and glass shattered everywhere. A deafening clap of thunder roared, and torrential rain descended in an instant.
The weather had changed.
At the same time, upstairs in her room, Yu Xi had finished reinforcing the windows. She meticulously sealed the window edges with thick tape, then taped a crisscross pattern on the glass. Finally, she dismantled a bed frame with a fire axe and hammered wooden planks over the windows, leaving a small opening at an appropriate height for observation.
Yu Zhenzhen stared in disbelief. “The hotel’s going to have a problem with this, isn’t it?”
“I’d hope the hotel has bigger issues to worry about by then,” Yu Xi replied, storing her tools back into the Star House warehouse. She ruffled Yu Zhenzhen’s hair and said, “Hungry? Let’s have lunch. What do you want to eat?”
“Anything I want? Can you just make it appear?” Yu Zhenzhen didn’t dodge her touch this time.
“Try me.”
Yu Zhenzhen blinked. “Clay pot rice with preserved meat… and some crayfish.”
“What flavor of crayfish?”
“…” She hadn’t expected that. “Um… thirteen-spice?”
The next moment, a steaming box of thirteen-spice crayfish appeared on the coffee table, accompanied by a portion of preserved meat clay pot rice and two bottles of orange juice.
As the weather outside turned chaotic, with branches clashing and torrential rain enveloping the Luyuan resort, Yu Zhenzhen sat cross-legged in their dry, safe room, feasting on crayfish.
She felt a little absurd. Why had she even thought of eating crayfish at a time like this?
“Eat. It’s fine,” Yu Xi reassured her. She was experienced in these early stages of disaster, knowing they could still enjoy relative comfort now. But the later stages were uncertain.
The fragment world was only so large, and the resources in the scenic area wouldn’t last. With nowhere to escape, chaos was inevitable as supplies dwindled. For now, Yu Xi had no clear concept of building a human refuge. All she could do was take things one step at a time.
The torrential rain showed no signs of stopping, pouring endlessly as if the heavens had sprung a leak.
Outside the building, trees bent and swayed wildly in the fierce wind, their branches snapping off. Hotel staff worked tirelessly to reinforce windows, but they faced a shortage of hands and tools, leaving much of the work incomplete.
In the neighboring hotel, the guests gathered in the lobby. The windows there had been reinforced first since more people were concentrated in that area. Despite the relative safety, the atmosphere inside was anything but calm.
Many of the guests had loved ones still unaccounted for—some stranded on the mountain, others completely out of contact. The relentless rain had disrupted phone signals, leaving them unable to reach emergency services or even their families.
Even if calls could get through, no vehicle would be able to navigate the storm to perform a rescue.
The lobby had grown silent, the hum of anxious conversations replaced by the oppressive tension. Everyone stared out through the reinforced windows, watching the storm rage on with worried expressions, their thoughts consumed by fears for their loved ones’ safety.
Qu Yichen was no different. He paced frantically, repeatedly attempting calls that wouldn’t connect. Anxious as a fly trapped on hot coals, he bombarded the hotel staff with questions about news from the mountain, but they had no updates. While the mountain had fixed phone lines for communication, no one had been answering since the storm began.
So, when the storm outside began to calm in the afternoon, Qu Yichen couldn’t wait any longer. He urged the staff to open the doors, insisting he had to go find his parents.
In the suite next door, Yu Zhenzhen was lying on the wooden planks, peering through an observation gap in the reinforced window. Yu Xi’s handiwork had held up well, and although fallen branches had struck the glass, the outermost layer remained intact.
“Mom! It looks like the typhoon’s over!” Yu Zhenzhen exclaimed.
Yu Xi glanced at the clock. It was only 3 p.m. She frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah! The trees aren’t moving, and it’s not raining anymore… Oh! I’ve got phone signal again!”
Yu Xi walked over to check for herself. The situation outside was indeed as Zhenzhen described, but something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had overlooked something critical, and her sense of unease only grew stronger.
Meanwhile, Yu Zhenzhen, excited by the return of her phone signal, decided to call Qu Yichen to check on him and his family. She wanted to know if his parents and classmates had made it back safely.
The call went through, but Qu Yichen’s voice was the most distracted and anxious she’d ever heard. He quickly explained the situation before hanging up. Yu Zhenzhen turned to Yu Xi, concerned. “Qu Yichen said his parents and classmates are still on the mountain. He’s planning to go look for them…”
Yu Xi suddenly realized what she had overlooked. “He’s already outside?”
“Yes, he left the neighboring hotel with a group and is heading toward the scenic area now. He said some people from our hotel also went—”
“Call him back immediately and tell him to return indoors!” Yu Xi’s expression turned grave. At the same time, she used the room phone to contact the hotel front desk. “Notify everyone immediately, and inform the other hotels: the typhoon may not be over yet! We are likely in the eye of the storm. This calm is temporary. Once the eye passes, the wind and rain will return even more violently!”
Yu Zhenzhen, overhearing Yu Xi’s conversation, finally grasped the situation. She frantically redialed Qu Yichen, but he wasn’t answering. Her anxiety mounted, and tears began to well up.
Yu Xi took the phone from her and ruffled her hair. “Stay in the room. Don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll bring him back.”
“But—Mom! I don’t care about him. You’re more important to me!” Yu Zhenzhen blurted out, gripping Yu Xi’s arm.
“Don’t worry. The typhoon’s eye will hover over us for a while. I’ll move quickly and come back safely,” Yu Xi assured her. She handed Yu Zhenzhen a stun baton and a whistle. “I promise I’ll return soon. If anyone tries to enter while I’m gone, use the baton to disable them and blow the whistle. I’ll hear it and be back immediately.”
The whistle emitted a unique sound that Yu Xi could detect even from a considerable distance, thanks to her enhanced senses. With her speed, her promise to return quickly wasn’t an empty one.
Yu Zhenzhen clutched the whistle and stun baton tightly, nodding resolutely. “Don’t stay out too long. Everyone else can wait—just come back if you can’t find him.”
“Got it.” Yu Xi smiled faintly before heading out into the eerie calm.
Qu Yichen and his group were blocked at the first intersection in the scenic area by a large, uprooted tree. While they were attempting to move the massive trunk, his phone unexpectedly started ringing again.
“Where are you?” The voice on the other end wasn’t Yu Zhenzhen’s.
Startled, he instinctively replied, “The first intersection near the shopping area. The path’s blocked by a fallen tree.”
“Wait there. I’m coming,” the voice said curtly.
Before he could ask who it was, the line disconnected. Confused, he stood there, trying to make sense of the situation. Just as he was about to put his phone away, one of his companions shouted urgently, “Move! Get out of the way!”
Qu Yichen looked up reflexively. A large piece of a shattered signboard was hurtling straight toward him from the roof of a nearby building. Frozen in fear, he stood rooted to the spot.
At the critical moment, someone grabbed his arm and yanked him forcefully to the side. The strength of the pull was immense, and he was flung several feet away just as the signboard crashed with a deafening bang where he had been standing moments before.
Heart pounding, he shakily turned to see Yu Xi’s cold, piercing gaze fixed on him. “You think you’re fit to climb the mountain like this?” she said sharply.
A few minutes later, the group learned from Yu Xi that they were likely in the eye of the typhoon. Her daring arrival to warn them left no room for argument. After some quick discussion, everyone agreed to retreat to the nearest safe location—the hotel Yu Xi had come from—and reassess their plans.
The only holdout was Qu Yichen, who stubbornly resisted until Yu Xi knocked him unconscious with a precise strike to his neck. Without a hint of hesitation, she dragged him back to the hotel by his arm.
When Yu Xi returned, Yu Zhenzhen immediately ran to her and hugged her tightly, relieved to see her safe. She then “accidentally” gave Qu Yichen, now sprawled on the floor, a swift kick.
Meanwhile, most of the other hotels had also issued warnings about the typhoon eye. Many guests who had left in search of loved ones returned to the safety of their rooms.
Twenty minutes later, the previously calm and bright skies darkened again. This time, the storm’s fury was even more intense. Torrential rain and howling winds battered the buildings relentlessly. Those who had ventured out earlier but managed to return now watched the chaos unfold from the safety of their rooms, feeling a deep sense of regret and fear.
Inside Yu Xi’s suite, the unconscious Qu Yichen stirred. Placed unceremoniously on the couch by Yu Xi, “he” suddenly opened his eyes.
The first thing “he” did was frown and reach to rub the back of his neck. The pain there felt oddly familiar. Though just recently “awakened” into this world, the discomfort triggered an inexplicable sense of déjà vu.
The implanted memories of this world hadn’t yet fully integrated, but fragments of the moments before “his” blackout surfaced: a swift hand chop and a face that was eerily familiar yet subtly different.
“Awake?” A familiar voice broke the silence from across the room.
Startled, “Qu Yichen” bolted upright. Disbelief filled “his” expression as “he” looked at the person before him. “Xiao… Xiao Xi?”
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