Cultivation Quick Transmigration: The Believer Girl is Lacking Money and Morals

When Mo Chenchen regained consciousness, she felt incredibly comfortable, her body warm and cozy. She hadn't felt this way in a long time.

Based on this comfortable feeling alone, Mo Chenchen was certain that this must be a normal world.

Enjoy it for a while, but we still need to understand the situation quickly so we can better plan our survival.

But it's strange, why are there no memories of the original owner?

She clearly remembered that the Reincarnation Technique stated that after a soul transmigrates, it will immediately possess the original owner's memories. Could it be that she made a mistake in the operation of the technique in the first world?

Never mind, let's just take it one step at a time.

I struggled to open my eyes, and what greeted me was a pristine white ceiling. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant—it was definitely modern.

It's such a long-lost flavor, more intoxicating than any other aroma.

Wow, what a comfortable bed, a warm blanket, and sunshine outside the window!

"Classmate, you're awake?" Just as Mo Chenchen was completely immersed in enjoying herself, a woman's concerned voice suddenly rang out beside her, startling Mo Chenchen.

I was so engrossed in enjoying myself that I didn't even notice there were other people around. It's true that comfort makes people let their guard down.

Otherwise, given her post-apocalyptic awareness, she would have gotten up and chopped him up long ago.

Upon seeing the woman's face suddenly approach, Mo Chenchen's expression changed, and he abruptly sat up in bed.

Then they froze. The doctor in the white coat was fine, but why did this doctor look so familiar?

She quickly looked around and saw bright windows, neat medicine cabinets, and white curtains. The environment looked familiar, like the infirmary at her university.

Her gaze then fell on a boy standing against the wall not far away. He was tall and thin, and his face showed obvious impatience.

The doctor looked familiar, the infirmary looked familiar, the boy looked familiar—was this really her own world? The world where she had suffered for fifteen years?

Mo Chenchen squinted and thought for a while before finally recalling which time period it was.

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In the second semester of her sophomore year, she was walking past the basketball court when a boy hit her directly on the head with a basketball, causing her to be unconscious for two hours.

The immense shock left her unable to think or respond.

He lay stiff as a wooden stick, falling back onto the hospital bed, his eyes lifeless and vacant as he stared at the ceiling, emanating an aura of death from his body.

Why? Why did I transmigrate—or rather, be reborn? Why am I back?

She didn't want to, she didn't want to go through it again. She really didn't want to experience the apocalypse fifteen years again.

Any world is fine, but she never wants to return to this world that witnessed all her misery.

Her death-like appearance terrified the school doctor standing nearby.

"Hey classmate, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Are you dizzy or nauseous? If you're really feeling unwell, let's not tough it out, let's go to the hospital and get an X-ray!"

The boy who was initially impatient quickly stood up straight, frowned, and took a few steps forward to check on the other person.

The boy's name is Lin Yiwen. He is a third-year student and the most handsome guy in the Department of Business Administration at National Cheng Kung University. He is not only good-looking but also rich. He is a well-known rich second-generation and has many suitors at school.

The ways people pursue each other are truly diverse. Even this time, he thought that Mo Chenchen was trying to get his attention by deliberately staging an accident.

I originally thought it was just a simple knockout, and that I would be fine once I recovered. I just needed to apologize and pay some medical expenses, and that would be the end of it.

But look at this junior's reaction now—empty eyes, expressionless face, not answering questions—could it be... that he really messed her up with that ball?! He can't take that responsibility; he might end up offering himself to her!

Lin Yiwen walked to the bedside and said, "Junior, how are you feeling? If you're really uncomfortable, go to the hospital."

Seeing that there was still no movement, they directly asked the school doctor, "Teacher, should we call an ambulance right away?"

Mo Chenchen listened to the noisy sounds around him and felt extremely irritated.

She didn't want to listen, didn't want to see, and didn't want to face this world that she once had but was destined to lose.

She suddenly raised her hand, grabbed the thin white blanket covering her, and quickly covered her head and face, curling up inside. Muffled sounds came from under the blanket.

"I'll lie down for a while."

Just three words, and that was it.

The school doctor opened her mouth, but the words she was about to say stuck in her throat. She and Lin Yiwen, who was next to her, exchanged a glance, both seeing surprise and uncertainty in each other's eyes.

This student's reaction is so strange. It doesn't seem like physical discomfort, but rather like... he's experienced some kind of huge shock?

The two fell silent for a moment. The school doctor sighed, pulled up a chair next to him, and said in a low voice to Lin Yiwen, "Don't rush, let her calm down for a while, and we'll observe her further."

What could Lin Yiwen say? He could only pull over a chair and sit down, glancing at the blanket covering the bed tightly. He felt extremely agitated and closed his eyes, thinking about how to resolve the situation.

Under the covers, Mo Chenchen kept her eyes tightly shut, biting her lower lip so hard it almost bled.

A deluge of information overwhelmed her mind. Rebirth… she really had been reborn! She had returned to about a month before the apocalypse began. But… was there joy? Not a shred of it.

Only heavy, suffocating exhaustion and despair.

On the Nebula Continent, she had no time to recall her past, but now, the immense shock reminded her of the night she died.

The fifteenth year of the apocalypse, extremely cold.

Mo Chenchen is already thirty-five years old. Everyone despises her for being ugly and filthy. No one is willing to share warmth with her, and they even kicked her out with a tattered quilt.

She huddled in this tiny room of less than ten square meters. Was she resentful? No, she wasn't. That's just how the world is. If you're not strong enough, you'll die. She'd seen too much of that over the years.

Cold, bone-chilling cold.

The cold air felt like countless fine needles, piercing through the skin, drilling into the flesh, and even reaching the bone marrow.

She knew she probably wouldn't make it through this.

My breathing became light and slow, and the slight rise and fall of my chest was almost imperceptible.

Mo Chenchen touched his uneven face with great effort, feeling his heartbeat slowing down. He thought to himself, "It's good to die, it's good to die. This will end it all."

Fifteen years have passed. She has experienced so much, too much for her to count. She doesn't want another life; she's just too tired.

How did I get through these fifteen years? Fragments of memories flashed before my eyes like a revolving lantern.

Fifteen years ago, there was that global fog that came without warning.

The fog was eerily thick; you couldn't even see your own fingers if you stretched out your arm, let alone see someone coming from the opposite direction.