“I really don’t know whether to call my sister unlucky or lucky. She just went to the mountains with her classmates for a trip, and when she came back, she accidentally wandered into the Abyss.
If I hadn’t decided to give her the transformation card I just exchanged—so she’d at least have some way to protect herself outside—she probably would’ve died in there.”
Recalling the incident where her sister had nearly lost her life in the Abyss, Yan Qi shuddered inwardly.
“Ugh, I’m so thirsty. I should go downstairs and get some water.”
Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, Yan Qi muttered this under her breath before climbing out of bed, slipping on her teddy bear slippers, and heading toward the door to go downstairs.
But just as she opened her bedroom door—before she could even take a single step—
A wave of dizziness hit her.
Before she could even process what was happening, Yan Qi collapsed straight to the floor, unconscious.
……
“Huh… Where am I? Did I transmigrate again?”
Blinking her eyes open, Yan Qi stared at the unfamiliar ceiling above her, the sharp scent of disinfectant filling the air. For a moment, she wondered if she had crossed into another world.
But the next second, a woman’s voice snapped her back to reality.
She wasn’t in some new world—she was still stuck in this one, with its superhumans and Abyss monsters.
“Oh thank goodness, Xiao Qi, you’re finally awake!”
Seeing her daughter’s eyes flutter open, Li Caifeng—who had been gripping Yan Qi’s hand tightly at her bedside, her face etched with worry—let out a relieved sigh.
“Mom… What happened to me?” Yan Qi turned her head slightly, confusion in her voice.
“The doctor said you collapsed from exhaustion and stress.”
“Me? Overworked and stressed? That’s impossible.”
Yan Qi, who spent most of her days at home with little to do, couldn’t believe those were the reasons. She was sure her collapse had something to do with overusing her doppelganger ability.
“How is it impossible? I told you not to rush to pay us back, but you wouldn’t listen. You wrote 40,000 words of your novel in less than two days! If that’s not overworking yourself, I don’t know what is.”
Li Caifeng’s tone was scolding as she recalled the shocking word count she’d seen on Yan Qi’s writing dashboard when she went home to grab some things.
Hearing this, Yan Qi froze.
She almost blurted out that writing wasn’t actually that tiring for her—but then she realized that if she denied it, she’d have no other explanation for why she’d fainted.
So she swallowed her words and played along, offering an apologetic look.
“Sorry… I just really wanted to pay you and Dad back as soon as possible.”
Her mother’s expression softened slightly.
“Xiao Qi, we appreciate your thoughtfulness, but not at the cost of your health.”
“I know, Mom. I promise I won’t push myself like that again.”
“I believe you.”
After making that promise, Yan Qi suddenly remembered—her mom had seen her writing dashboard.
“Oh, Mom… since you saw my dashboard, did you… read my novel?”
“Ah, no, I just saw the word count. I haven’t actually read it yet.”
“Oh. Well, once I’m out of the hospital, I’ll show you and Dad the drafts I’ve saved up.”
Li Caifeng blinked. “You’d really let me read it? Aren’t you… embarrassed?”
Since Yan Qi wasn’t the original author—just a cross-dimensional plagiarist—she answered without hesitation.
“Not at all. It’s not like I’m writing some trashy smut.”
“…Alright, if you’re fine with it, then your father and I will take a look once we’re home.”
“Speaking of Dad… where is he?”
Not seeing her father, Yan Zhenyi, in the room, Yan Qi glanced around.
“He got a call and stepped outside. He’ll be back soon.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Enough talking—you should rest now.”
“Mm.”
Nodding weakly, Yan Qi—still drained from the energy her doppelganger had consumed—closed her eyes and drifted off.
……
Time passed quickly, shifting from day to night.
After a final check-up confirmed she was well enough to leave, Yan Qi eagerly followed her parents out of the hospital and into their car.
Since they’d already eaten dinner out, and given the day’s events, her parents urged her to go straight upstairs and sleep.
Not daring to argue, Yan Qi let her mom escort her to her room.
Once alone, she sat on her bed, replaying the day in her head and coming to a conclusion.
“I need to find a way to extend my training time. If my main body stays this weak, something worse will happen eventually.”
Resolved, she pushed aside unnecessary thoughts, crossed her legs, and began circulating the Spiritual Vortex Technique, sinking into her usual cultivation routine.
Three hours later—now accustomed to the flow of time during meditation—Yan Qi knew it was time to sleep.
She dispersed the spiritual vortex in her dantian, stood up, changed into her pink teddy bear pajamas, freshened up in the bathroom, turned off the lights, and finally slipped under the covers.