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

Han Yingying opened her eyes.

The ceiling was white, with a thin crack running from the light fixture to the corner of the wall. She stared at the crack for a long time, her mind blank.

where is this?

She sat up and looked around. Pink curtains, a few textbooks on the desk, and a wardrobe door half-open, revealing several school uniforms.

It's her room.

But she couldn't remember how she got back here at all. Her memory stopped at some vague point—there were people, there was light, there was something important... but she couldn't grasp what it was exactly.

"Yingying! Come down for breakfast!"

A woman's voice came from downstairs, sharp and commanding.

Han Yingying frowned. The voice made her instinctively uncomfortable, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

She got out of bed, her feet sinking into the floor, a chill creeping up her spine. As she reached the door, she noticed a piece of paper stuck to the back of it.

The paper was yellowed and the edges were curled. It had the following words written on it in red:

Rule 1: You must arrive at the table before 7:00 AM each day.

Rule Two: You may not refuse any reasonable request from family members.

Rule 3: You must not leave your room after 11 p.m.

Rule 4: Do not speak more than three sentences with strangers.

Rule Five: Violators will be punished.

Han Yingying stared at the paper, a chill running down her spine.

What is that? Who put it there?

She reached out to tear the paper, but as soon as her fingertips touched the edge, a sharp pain shot through her body. She jerked her hand back, revealing a small cut on her fingertip.

The paper remained completely still.

Han Yingying glanced at her phone—6:53.

She hurried downstairs.

In the living room, a middle-aged woman with curly hair was setting the table, her movements efficient but her expression indifferent. Next to her sat a girl of about seventeen or eighteen, head down, scrolling through her phone and munching on bread.

"Six fifty-five." The middle-aged woman looked up at her. "We almost missed it."

Han Yingying sat down at the dining table. She sized up the two people—her stepmother, Lin Fang, and her stepsister, Lin Xiaoyu.

These messages popped into my head automatically, but they felt strange, like memories that someone had forced into them.

"It's the weekend today, don't go anywhere." Lin Fang pushed a bowl of porridge in front of her. "Your Uncle Zhang is bringing some people over this afternoon."

"Who is it?"

"Your fiancé," Lin Fang said in a flat tone, as if she were commenting on the weather, "Don't mess up what was agreed upon beforehand."

Han Yingying was stunned. "Fiancé? How old am I—"

"Eighteen, not young anymore." Lin Xiaoyu said without looking up. "Sis, stop struggling. He's got such great qualities."

Han Yingying held her chopsticks without moving. She felt something was wrong, very wrong. A person with amnesia being told they had a fiancé—it all seemed incredibly strange.

But she didn't argue, because Rule Two on the paper behind the door was still imprinted in her mind—she must not refuse any reasonable request from her family.

Reasonable? Is this reasonable?

She lowered her head and drank her porridge, saying nothing more.

The doorbell rang at 2 p.m.

Lin Fang went to open the door, her voice becoming three degrees warmer: "Oh, Brother Zhang, please come in, please come in."

Han Yingying was sitting on the sofa when she saw a man in his fifties walk in, followed by a young man.

The young man was probably around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, dressed in a suit and tie, and had a respectable appearance. But the moment Han Yingying saw him, her stomach churned.

It wasn't because of her looks. It was because of her eyes.

The way those eyes looked at her was wrong. It was like looking at something already in their possession, with a sense of entitlement and self-righteousness.

"This must be Yingying?" The young man walked over with a smile. "My name is Chen Mo. Please take care of me in the future."

He stretched out his hand.

Han Yingying did not shake hands.

"Yingying!" Lin Fang's voice rose, "You're so rude!"

Han Yingying stood up and took a step back. She couldn't explain why, but her body was rejecting this person. Every cell in her body was screaming—danger!

"I don't know you," she said. "And no one has ever told me about a fiancé."

Chen Mo's smile remained unchanged, but what he saw in his eyes made Han Yingying even more certain of her judgment.

"Yingying might not be used to it yet," Lin Fang quickly tried to smooth things over. "She hasn't been feeling well lately, and her memory's a bit off—"

"My memory is fine," Han Yingying interrupted her. "I don't agree to this marriage."

The living room was quiet for two seconds.

Lin Fang's expression changed. Lin Xiaoyu put down her phone, her eyes filled with anticipation for a good show. Uncle Zhang coughed awkwardly.

Chen Mo wasn't annoyed at all; instead, he smiled and said, "It's alright, take your time."

He took a box out of his pocket, opened it, and inside was a ring. "Keep it for now, no rush."

Han Yingying did not answer.

She turned and went upstairs. Halfway up, she heard Lin Fang say something in a low voice behind her. She didn't hear it clearly, but it didn't matter.

Back in her room, she locked the door.

Then she saw it.

On the paper behind the door, below Rule Two, there was an extra line of red text, resembling freshly seeped blood:

[Warning: You have violated Rule 2. Remaining fault tolerance: 2]

Han Yingying's hands were trembling.

It wasn't fear. It was anger.

What kind of bullshit rules are these? Why should she listen to a stranger and marry a man who makes her feel uncomfortable all over?

She paced back and forth in the room a few times, trying to sort out her thoughts. Amnesia, rules, stepmother, fiancé—these elements, pieced together, didn't seem like a normal life at all.

She didn't go downstairs for dinner.

Lin Fang called out three times from downstairs, but she pretended not to hear.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Lin Xiaoyu: "Sis, are you crazy? Mom's furious. Come down and apologize right now."

Han Yingying did not reply.

Ten minutes later, Lin Xiaoyu sent another message: [Chen Mo hasn't left yet. Come down and say a few nice words, and this will be over. Stop being so stubborn, okay?]

Han Yingying typed a few words: 【I'm not going.】

After sending the message, she tossed her phone aside.

At eleven o'clock, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The crack was faintly visible in the darkness.

Suddenly, footsteps came from outside the door.

It wasn't the sound of Lin Fang's high heels, nor the dragging steps of Lin Xiaoyu. It was a very light, very slow gait, like something pacing back and forth in the corridor.

Han Yingying held her breath.

The footsteps stopped at her door.

Then, a red light shone through the crack in the door.

She sat up abruptly and saw the paper behind the door glowing. The red characters lit up one by one, finally settling on the newly appeared line at the bottom:

[Warning: You have violated Rule 1 (failure to eat on time). Remaining tolerance: 1]

Han Yingying bit her lip. There was only one chance left.

The next morning, she appeared at the dining table on time. Lin Fang's gaze was icy cold, but she said nothing. Lin Xiaoyu muttered, "Now you're scared, aren't you?" but was glared at by Han Yingying.

Chen Mo came again in the morning.

This time he didn't bring a gift; he just sat in the living room drinking tea and chatting and laughing with Lin Fang. Han Yingying glanced at him from the top of the stairs, then turned to leave.