A bizarre and terrifying experience; I messed up the dungeon world.

[Family rule number one: You must be up before 7:00 AM and at the dinner table before 7:30 AM.]

[Rule #2: No physical altercations with family members.]

[Family Rule #3: You must obey the arrangements of the elders in the family.]

[Rule #4: You must not leave your room after 10 PM.]

Those who violate the rules will be punished.

Han Yingying stared at the words on the wall for a long time.

What is this? Interior design? Performance art?

She touched the words with her finger; they felt cool to the touch, like the veins of stone. They weren't written on, nor were they carved; they seemed to have grown out of the wall.

"Yingying? You're awake?"

A woman's voice came from downstairs, her tone warm and friendly, with a deliberate attempt to maintain a friendly demeanor.

Han Yingying went down the stairs.

The living room was spacious and decorated in a European style. The sofa was made of dark brown leather, and a fruit bowl and a tea set were placed on the coffee table. A woman in her forties was sitting on the sofa, wearing a light gray silk shirt, with her hair styled in large waves and her makeup exquisite.

"Come and sit down quickly." The woman patted the seat next to her. "You were unconscious for two days, it scared your mother to death."

mom?

Han Yingying had absolutely no memory of this woman.

"Who are you?"

The woman's smile froze for a moment, then quickly returned to normal. "You silly child, what nonsense are you talking about? I'm your mother, your stepmother, Liu Fang. Have you forgotten?"

Han Yingying shook her head.

"The doctor said you might experience temporary memory loss." Liu Fang stood up, walked to Han Yingying, and reached out to touch her head. Han Yingying instinctively took a step back.

Liu Fang's hand froze in mid-air, a hint of displeasure flashing in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by a smile. "It's alright, take your time thinking about it. Come on, let's eat breakfast first."

There are also rules on the walls of the restaurant.

[Rule #1: All family members must be present for the meal to begin.]

[Rule #2: You may not leave your seat during the meal.]

[Rule number three: You must finish all the food on your plate.]

Looking at these rules, Han Yingying felt something was off. The wording was too rigid; they didn't seem like family rules, but more like some kind of... agreement. Or rather, some kind of constraint.

"Sis, you're finally awake?"

An eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of sandwiches. She looked about five or six parts like Liu Fang, but younger and with rounder eyes. She was wearing a loose sweatshirt and her hair was tied in a ponytail. She looked very sunny.

"This is your sister, Liu Siqi," Liu Fang introduced.

"Stepsister," Liu Siqi corrected, smiling at Han Yingying. "Sister, don't you remember me? It's okay, you never really paid attention to me before anyway."

The words were spoken in a sarcastic tone, but Liu Siqi's expression was natural, as if she were stating a fact.

Han Yingying sat down and looked at the breakfast on the table: sandwiches, milk, and fruit salad. It was normal, very ordinary. But something just felt off.

She took a bite of the sandwich. It tasted normal.

"Yingying," Liu Fang sat down opposite her, picked up her teacup and took a sip, "there's something I need to tell you. Your fiancé is coming this afternoon."

Han Yingying almost spat out the sandwich in her mouth.

"What fiancé?"

"Chen Rui. Your father arranged this marriage for you when he was alive." Liu Fang's tone was casual, as if she were commenting on the weather. "It's been almost a year since the engagement, how come you don't even remember that?"

Han Yingying put down the sandwich, her mind racing.

She had amnesia and remembered nothing. This home, this stepmother, this stepsister, this so-called fiancé—everything was unfamiliar to her. But the rules on the wall clearly stated that she must obey the arrangements of the elders in the family.

"I don't want to see her," Han Yingying said.

Liu Fang paused for a moment as she held the teacup.

"Yingying, Mom knows you just woke up and your mind hasn't quite processed what's happening yet. But this was decided by your father, not by Mom."

My dad is gone.

Han Yingying didn't know why she said it, but the moment the words left her mouth, she knew it was true. Her father was dead. As for how he died or when he died, she couldn't remember.

Liu Fang's expression changed. It wasn't sadness, nor anger, but a strange, almost scrutinizing look.

"Yingying," she put down her teacup, "you're not feeling well right now, and you have memory problems too. You need someone to take care of you more than ever. Chen Rui is a good kid, seeing him won't hurt you."

"I told you I don't want to see you."

The air was still for a few seconds.

Liu Siqi lowered her head and ate her sandwich, pretending she hadn't heard anything.

"Okay." Liu Fang's voice regained its warm tone. "No rush, let's talk about it when you've thought it through."

After finishing breakfast, Han Yingying returned to her room and the first thing she did after closing the door was to rummage through it.

Her ID card, student ID, and bank cards were in the drawer. Her phone was on the bedside table, and she even remembered the password—her birthday, a six-digit number.

There's very little information on my phone. My contacts number only has about twenty people, and the most recent call was three days ago from "Liu Fang." My WeChat Moments are almost empty; I had to scroll through several pages before I found a photo—she was standing at the entrance of a university, wearing a white T-shirt, making a peace sign at the camera.

Below the photo is a comment from someone named "Langligelang": Don't block the way.

Han Yingying stared at the name for half a minute.

Wave after wave.

She had an indescribable feeling, like a melody that kept recurring in her dreams. When she woke up, she could only remember the tune, but not the lyrics.

She clicked into that person's WeChat Moments.

There's nothing there. The profile picture is the system's default gray humanoid figure.

Han Yingying flipped through the photo album on her phone again. There weren't many photos; most were snapshots of her class notes. Only one group photo caught her attention—she was standing with two boys. One tall, thin boy was on the far right, smiling broadly and showing a row of teeth, while the other was on the far left, wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled low, revealing only his chin.

The caption on the photo reads: "Group photo after copying (Zhao Qiang insisted on taking it)."

A dungeon? What dungeon?

Han Yingying tried hard to recall, her head throbbing slightly, but she couldn't grasp anything.

She put down her phone and went to the window to look outside.

Outside the window was an ordinary residential street, with trees, cars, and pedestrians. But Han Yingying noticed a detail—there were words on the exterior wall of the building across the street.

The same black lettering as in her hallway.

The distance was too far to see the contents clearly, but the texture of the material embedded in the wall was exactly the same.

What's wrong with this world?

She glanced at the time again: 9:40 AM. There were still several hours until the "afternoon" Liu Fang had mentioned.

Han Yingying decided to go out and take a look.

She changed her clothes—the clothes in her wardrobe were mostly simple, black, white and gray—put on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her phone and wallet, and opened the door.