"Hahahaha! You hear that? Orders? Don’t make me laugh."

Bathed in blinding sunlight, the redhead punk stepped toward me. His hand shot out to grab my collar—I dodged with a fluid sidestep.

Then I swept my leg sideways and slammed a roundhouse kick straight into his skull.

*Thud.*

The kick connected squarely with his forehead. His body crumpled sideways.

The attack was so sudden that for half a minute after he fell, no one moved. Not until one thug yelped and scrambled to help him did the crowd realize—a 1.7-meter-tall brute had just been floored by a girl’s single kick.

"You—"

Rage gave way to stunned disbelief. Nearly every pair of eyes fixed on me like I was some kind of monster.

Even Floral Snake, who’d brought me here, stared.

"Yi Yao, why did you—"

Humans are creatures ruled by power, status, and money.

"Do you even know what happens when you piss off the Jiangnan Gang?"

These street rats had survived on pain. After a heartbeat of shock, threats spilled from their lips like instinct.

But their words meant nothing to me.

I’d heard them all before.

From family. Friends. Colleagues. Bosses.

A beast stays a beast only because its wounds never heal.

"I gave you a chance."

That kick would keep the redhead hospitalized for a month or two. I knew my limits well—or rather, I was using the skills Yi Yao had honed.

"Now’s your last chance to apologize."

"Like hell we’ll apologize to trash like you! Get her!"

Just as expected, their fallen comrade ignited their fury. Weapons flashed as they lunged at me in unison.

Floral Snake moved to step forward—I held him back.

"Someone called the cops. Stay out of this."

I pivoted and drove two swift kicks into the nearest thug. A sickening *crack* echoed. He clutched his broken wrist, face ashen, as his iron rod clattered to the ground.

"Honestly? I admire your spirit. Hope you keep that fire when you grow up."

Ignoring his screams, I spun and kicked the next attacker rushing from my right. Using his momentum, I vaulted mid-air and slammed my left foot into another thug on my left.

Taekwondo relies heavily on kicks—useless in real fights, some say. But master anything long enough, and it becomes lethal. Six years of brutal training had pushed Yi Yao’s body to its peak. These punks were nothing.

In Yi Yao’s memories, the Jiangnan Gang was a minor faction under a shadowy organization. Only that backing let this crew of minors survive among Shangjing’s gangs. The Black Dragon Society was the same—no true boss, no survival.

Two minutes.

That’s all it took to leave seven or eight fifteen-year-olds sprawled across the internet café’s empty lot.

Sirens wailed down the street.

Elementary kids gawked at me from the café entrance, drawn by the chaos.

I lowered my guard and walked to Floral Snake. "Let’s go."

"Don’t move! Everyone on the ground—now!"

I’d underestimated the police. Before we could vanish, a patrol car screeched to block our path.

…

At the station, Floral Snake, me, and the Jiangnan Gang thugs were locked in a small, windowless room. White walls gleamed under harsh lights.

"Talk. Why’d you fight?"

A square table separated us from a fat cop. His voice dripped with impatience.

"I—"

Floral Snake started to speak, but the cop cut him off with a roar: "You gutter trash! If you wanna die, do it quietly—don’t drag me into your mess!"

"What kind of parents raise filth like you? Ruining our city!" He jabbed his baton at a Jiangnan thug beside me. "You again? Last time it was robbery. Craving another beating?" His sneer was pure contempt. "Do us all a favor—get out of Shangjing City. Scum like you make life hell for decent people."

That look. Like staring at sewer maggots.

Once, in college, our advisor had given that same look to a dormmate. Ten years later, that boy became China’s most famous actor. When asked about his teacher, he’d smiled: "I owe him everything. Without him, I wouldn’t be here today."

What keeps us alive isn’t courage or kindness. It’s jealousy. Rage. The sting of others’ scorn.

"You." The cop’s eyes landed on me. "Since you’re the only girl here—explain."

*Fight?*

I lifted my gaze to the cop’s gravity-defying beer belly.

*My brother was hurt. We fought back. Is that reason enough?*

"We weren’t fighting. She had nothing to do with it."

A Jiangnan thug with a bruised face spoke up before I could answer. "Just messing around. No big deal."

I turned to him.

They understood the stakes. If they admitted a girl had taken down their whole crew, the Jiangnan Gang’s reputation would shatter. Better to bury it now.

*Liang Zhenyi’s debt is settled.*

"Messing around?" The cop slammed his palm on the table. "*Thwack!* One concussion! One broken arm! That’s your idea of fun?"

The thug flinched. "Got carried away…"

"Fine. Fine." The cop pulled a document from his pocket. "I love fun. Sign this, and you’re free."

The thug took the paper. I glimpsed the terms: *Assume all responsibility. No claims against authorities.*

"Here." He handed it back after signing.

"Go study hard. Respect your parents. Stop brawling like animals." The cop waved us off. "Get out."

We stumbled out, relief washing over us.

"Yi Yao."

Floral Snake stopped on the sidewalk outside the station as the Jiangnan thugs vanished down the street.

"Hmm?" I brushed my bangs aside and turned.

"You—" He avoided my eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"What could be wrong?" I countered.

The setting sun painted his face in gold. He fell silent.

"Nothing."

After a long pause, he waved. "Go home early. I’ll handle the rest."

He didn’t wait for my reply, dragging his crew across the street.

*I know what you wanted to ask.*

*"Why are you like this now?"*

*"Did something happen at home?"*

But they’d never guess the truth.

*Yi Yao is already dead. Dead in this best of times.*

*My name is Yi Yao too. From another world—identical, yet broken.*

*If that day hadn’t happened… maybe we’d share the same fate.*

*This world’s Yi Yao was too fragile. A girl like her would’ve ended her own life eventually.*

*…Hah. Who am I to judge?*

Home was cold and empty, just like always.

I remembered—Dad would be at the hospital with Mom until late.

Slipping into cotton slippers, familiar memories washed over me like a dream. The world felt unreal, distant.

*This home… this world… it’s crumbling soon.*

I stared at my slender feet. Only the blue slippers had turned pink. Everything else stayed the same.

*Boy or girl—it never changed this place.*

I took a deep breath, walked to the living room, peeled off my coat, and tossed it onto my narrow bed. The computer hummed to life.

*I’ve decided. No matter what, I’ll save this broken home.*

*Let relatives curse me. Let friends misunderstand. If I can fix this—I’ll bear the sins.*

In the dying light, a battered 2016 LCD screen flickered weakly.

Back then, most computers ran on Windows—a fortress of holes. Skyfire Forum was just a fledgling site. If I played this right… I could steer the entire internet.

*No. I must.*

An hour of browsing turned my anxiety into quiet triumph.

Just as I’d guessed: this era’s internet was fragile. Pathetically so.

*To me, at least.*

Ten years later, the Hive King Algorithm would expose Windows’ flaws. For three months, hackers crippled thousands of companies—even Linux servers fell. A new security crisis erupted. The Hive King Algorithm became a global obsession.

The chaos lasted barely half a year. Microsoft patched the holes. But for me now? That algorithm could crack any software alive today.

In my past life, I’d studied computer security after college. To pay debts, I trained relentlessly. In this world, without connections or charm, only raw skill mattered.

And I’d mastered it.

"Skyfire Forum… found it."

I opened the familiar URL. The barebones site had barely a dozen posts. I registered an account: *bee*.

No one would believe this tiny forum would one day rule the world of cybersecurity.

I answered every question on the forum. The homepage stayed silent. Nothing left to do.

I shut down the computer.

Need to pee…

A familiar yet strange sensation suddenly hit my lower abdomen. I reflexively grabbed the toilet paper from the coffee table and rushed into the bathroom. But the moment I pulled down my pants and squatted, I realized the problem.

This…

Alright, Xiao Yao, sorry.

Scenes of Yi Yao’s daily bathroom routines flashed in my mind.

They felt like my own lived memories—ordinary and natural.

Hmm… this is troublesome. Especially with that one week each month for her period. In Yi Yao’s memories, those days seemed incredibly painful.

Anyway, it’s my body now.

After finishing with mixed feelings, I returned to the living room. A knock sounded at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Earth.”

A grown man’s voice came from outside.

Earth?

I dug through Yi Yao’s memories for a while before finally recalling who he was. I opened the door.

Ouyang Earth. A man once accidentally saved by Yi Yao’s “boyfriend” Long Fei. Now a member of the Black Dragon Society. He had short white-dyed hair and a muscular build. But he rarely showed up—his identity shrouded in mystery.

“Yo, Xiao Yao.”

Brother Earth greeted me naturally. “Had dinner yet?”

“Not yet,” I smiled. “Dad hasn’t come back. Xiao Yao plans to eat later.”

I wasn’t close to this guy. Better play the obedient girl for now.

“Perfect,” Ouyang Earth waved. “Let’s go. The Jiangnan Gang set up a banquet. They asked me to invite you for a meal—and to discuss Old Liang’s matter.”