The evening self-study session ended.
Jiang Yunlu returned home to find her father, Jiang Chengshan, already setting out a late-night snack on the dining table.
"Sweetheart, you must be tired. Have something to eat."
As he spoke, Jiang Chengshan reached over and took Jiang Yunlu's not-too-heavy schoolbag, placing it on the nearby sofa.
Jiang Yunlu looked at the crab stick dumplings on the table and suddenly felt a pang of discomfort.
"Dad, next time, could you not put minced ginger in the crab stick dumplings? I don’t like it."
Jiang Chengshan was only thirty-five, and with his well-maintained appearance and naturally handsome features, he looked more like an older brother than the father of a fifteen-year-old girl.
But at that moment, the old man stiffened at her words.
"You... don’t like it? I saw you finish your lunchbox earlier."
Jiang Yunlu sat down, picking up a small soufflé from the table and nibbling on it.
"That’s because I gave the crab stick dumplings to someone else. I didn’t want to waste food."
Hearing this, Jiang Chengshan let out a sigh of relief and immediately raised three fingers to swear an oath to the heavens.
"Sweetheart, I swear I’ll never make dishes you don’t like again."
Seeing her father’s earnest vow, Jiang Yunlu couldn’t stay mad at him.
Her dad was perfect in every way—except for being overly clingy.
Just like her aunt said, he was a complete "daughter-con."
She wondered how her mother had ever fallen for him.
He was nothing like Lin Mo.
If Lin Mo were here, he’d probably call out "Xiao Ai" like in Crayon Shin-chan—not the Xiaomi AI assistant, but the character from the anime.
After finishing her snack, Jiang Yunlu went to her room to shower and rest.
Lying in bed, she glanced at the black cat plushie by her bedside and thought of Lin Mo’s behavior earlier that day.
Lending money to Zhang Yuzhong, giving notes to Xu Sheng, even donating his shopping card as class funds.
Two hundred, five hundred—it wasn’t a huge amount.
But judging by Lin Mo’s everyday clothes, he wasn’t exactly rolling in money either.
Yet he never hesitated to spend it.
Jiang Yunlu turned her head, looking at the black scarf-wearing cat plushie.
That resigned expression… it really reminded her of someone.
Grabbing the plushie, she poked its nose with her finger.
"Lin Mo, what kind of person are you, really?"
With that, she hugged the plushie and lay back, pulling out her phone to open Lin Mo’s QQ chat window.
Lin Mo’s QQ was simple—no personal signature, just the nickname "Ink Black" and a profile picture of Naruto.
Jiang Yunlu knew the character; a lot of boys liked him.
As she started typing, she noticed several new friend requests.
The notes read: "I’m XXX from Class XX."
She ignored these kinds of random adds—unless she knew them personally, she didn’t accept requests, even from most of her male classmates.
There was one boy, Huang Haoyang, who kept sending her friend requests every single day.
No matter how many times she rejected him, he’d try again, each time with a different note.
Yet in real life, Jiang Yunlu had never seen him approach her, even though she knew he was in her class.
Rejecting Huang Haoyang’s request once more, she finally set her phone aside.
"He’s probably asleep by now."
......
"Nope, your approach is wrong here. You missed a condition."
Meanwhile, "Teacher Lin" was still busy, guiding Xie Yuling through an Olympiad math problem.
Xie Yuling had a solid foundation, but Olympiad questions required sharper thinking.
Finally solving it, Xie Yuling let out a relieved sigh.
And with that, "Little Lin Mo’s tutoring session" came to an end.
Lin Mo tapped the table.
"Midterms are next week. Feeling confident?"
"Mostly, but my history’s weak."
Nobody was perfect.
"So you’re aiming for science in the future?" Lin Mo asked casually.
"Yeah, science. I’m good at chemistry."
From what Lin Mo knew, Xie Yuling’s chemistry was indeed impressive—full-score potential.
She had a real knack for it.
Checking the time—almost eleven—Lin Mo stretched.
"Alright, I’ll head down now. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow. Goodnight." The girl waved him off before grabbing her clothes for a shower.
As for her mother, Zheng Yuan, she was already deep in conversation with the Sandman.
Walking down the stairs, Lin Mo’s divine sense enveloped the entire building.
Since reaching the Foundation Establishment stage, his spiritual awareness covered a hundred-meter radius.
Auntie Zheng trusted them completely—after they finished their late-night snack, she went straight to bed without a second thought about Lin Mo’s intentions.
Back home, Lin Mo just changed clothes and lay down.
Not to sleep, but to enter the dream realm.
......
"Don’t sleep, don’t sleep! Absolutely must not sleep!"
Zhou Ming stifled yawn after yawn.
His eyes strained wide open, even as exhaustion clawed at his mind.
He couldn’t afford to sleep—the nightmares that followed were too horrifying, so vivid he couldn’t forget them even after waking.
Every dream he’d had these past days was etched into his memory, and he always knew he was dreaming.
So he resisted.
No matter how tired, he refused to sleep.
Around him, the others locked in the same detention center had already started snoring.
But Zhou Ming held on.
Then he looked up—and froze.
A figure stood motionless at the foot of his bed, staring straight at him.
Zhou Ming jolted upright, whipping his head to check the other two beds in the cell.
One was empty.
The other… also empty.
Wait—
Where was the snoring coming from?
When he turned back, he saw himself—eyes closed, drifting into slumber.
"No! No!" Zhou Ming leaped up, weightless, soaring toward the ceiling.
The figure at the bedside reached out, seizing Zhou Ming’s ankle and yanking him down violently.
But instead of pulling him back into his body, it dragged him into an endless abyss.
"NO!"
The next second, Zhou Ming shot upright with a scream.
He was alone in bed—the other two cots were empty.
Right. He’d always been alone in this cell.
Because he was a minor, they’d given him solitary confinement.
Gasping, Zhou Ming frantically patted himself down in the dim light, confirming nothing had changed.
"Good… still okay."
Then footsteps echoed in the distance.
A patrolling officer.
Zhou Ming immediately lay back down, feigning sleep.
The steps grew closer… and closer…
Then—click.
The sound of a door unlocking.
Zhou Ming kept his eyes shut, ears straining.
But after the door opened, the footsteps vanished.
How long had it been?
Cautiously, he cracked his eyes open—afraid that if he didn’t, he’d slip back into sleep.
The moment he did, a face loomed over him, grinning.
"You broke the rules. No sleeping? Then—extreme punishment!"