Chapter 196: The First World

Zai Ye sat motionless outside the delivery room, staring at the door without blinking.

Li Xiu walked over with two cups of hot water. He patted Zai Ye on the shoulder, but it didn’t snap him out of it.

“Zai Ye? Zai Ye? Snap out of it. Don’t pass out from nerves—here, drink some hot water,” Li Xiu said, speaking from experience.

Zai Ye finally came to and took the cup, but the water inside rippled untouched in his hands.

“Why is it so quiet in there?” he asked anxiously, turning to his buddy. “On TV, women in labor are always screaming bloody murder. Why is there no sound from Vice President Zhang?”

Li Xiu gave him a look. “Calm down. This is a well-equipped private hospital. The doors are thick and soundproof—you won’t hear anything.”

Who calls their own wife “Vice President Zhang”? No wonder it took him until thirty-four to finally win her over and get married—zero sense of romance.

Suddenly, Zai Ye jumped up and leaned toward the delivery room door, trying to hear something through the crack. Li Xiu quickly pulled him back.

“Alright, sit your ass down. Don’t block the door.”

To ease his friend’s nerves, Li Xiu asked, “Have you picked a name for the baby yet?”

Zai Ye glanced at him. “Qian.”

Li Xiu’s amused expression froze, and a hint of sadness flickered across his face. He sighed. “Zai Ye, I know you’ve never been able to let go, but that child’s been gone for a long time. You’re about to have a new baby now. Maybe it’s time to let yourself move on.”

Zai Ye murmured, “…You don’t understand.”

This baby—this one about to be born—was Qian. Both he and Vice President Zhang had dreamed of her. In the dream, Qian had asked them if she could be their child this time.

They said yes. And then Vice President Zhang found out she was pregnant.

That had to be her—she had come back!

For months, he’d been on edge, riddled with anxiety. At first, Vice President Zhang tried to comfort him, but eventually she gave up and dumped a mountain of work on him instead.

Li Xiu was in the middle of a heartfelt monologue when someone else came rushing in.

A tall, slender figure, face hidden by a mask and scarf, strode in. As he pulled off his hat, short tousled hair and a pair of bright, tired eyes were revealed.

“Well? Has she given birth yet? Am I too late?” he asked.

Li Xiu recognized him immediately—it was the film emperor, Tong Jianxu.

He’d heard that Tong Jianxu was friends with Zai Ye and his wife, but seeing him rush in like this, eyes glued to the delivery room door with such urgency, you’d think his own wife was in there.

Li Xiu looked at his buddy Zai Ye and the film emperor Tong, both of them looking like their souls had left their bodies, anxiety and anticipation written all over their faces. His expression turned… complicated.

Everyone who knew Zai Ye had heard the rumors—that his wife and Tong Jianxu had a thing in the past.

And now, seeing Tong Jianxu like this… could it be he still had feelings for his sister-in-law?

Zai Ye and Tong Jianxu didn’t have time to care what Li Xiu was imagining. The two of them had become close over the years, bonded by shared hardship.

Ever since Zai Ye told Tong Jianxu that the baby might be Qian, Tong had been dropping by their house constantly to check on Vice President Zhang.

Even when he was filming and couldn’t come himself, he’d send his agent over with food, drinks, and supplies.

The people around them had started whispering all kinds of things about the three of them. The couple’s reputations had taken a hit.

If it weren’t for the fact that they shared a secret, Zai Ye would’ve lost patience with him long ago.

No one knew how much time had passed when the delivery room door finally opened. A nurse came out, smiling, holding a baby in her arms.

“Is the father here? Come see your baby—it’s a beautiful little girl.”

Li Xiu watched as both Zai Ye and Tong Jianxu stood up at the same time. In fact, Tong Jianxu was even a step faster. He practically lunged forward, and the moment he saw the baby, tears silently streamed down his face.

His reaction was so intense that the nurse tried to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Dad. The baby’s doing great…”

Zai Ye, one step too slow, looked at him with an expression that shifted from excitement to speechlessness.

“I’m the dad.”

The nurse looked between them, clearly confused.

Zai Ye nudged aside the overly emotional Tong Jianxu and carefully took the baby into his arms. He looked down at the red, wrinkly newborn and broke into a smile.

He cradled her, gazing at her over and over, then peeked into the delivery room. “What about her mom? Is she okay?”

“The family can take the baby to the room first. The mother will be brought in shortly. One person can stay here and wait,” the nurse said with a smile.

Tong Jianxu took the baby. “I’ll take her to the room. You wait here.”

As he walked away, Zai Ye called after him, “Hey! Don’t you dare run off with my kid—that’s a crime!”

Then he turned to Li Xiu. “Xiu-ge, go keep an eye on him!”

Li Xiu: “…” Seriously, you two?

Once the baby was gone, Zai Ye asked the nurse, “Was there anything… strange during the birth?”

The nurse blinked. “Strange?”

“Like… glowing?”

The nurse chuckled. “Don’t worry, everything went smoothly. Nothing unusual.”

Zai Ye let out a long breath. The last time, the child had vanished so suddenly. This time, once they realized Vice President Zhang was pregnant with Qian, they’d been worried something bizarre might happen during the birth. That’s why they’d contacted Li Xiu and chosen this highly private hospital.

“Well, there wasn’t anything weird, but…” The nurse hesitated. “The baby does have a birthmark on her palm. You might want to take a closer look.”

When Vice President Zhang woke up, she saw her husband and the film emperor Tong both standing by her bedside, arguing over the baby’s hand.

“That’s not a mole—moles aren’t that big! It’s clearly a pattern!”

“It’s not a pattern either. Maybe it just wasn’t cleaned properly?”

“No way. Get some water and a tissue—try wiping it.”

Just as the two of them were about to do something dumb, Vice President Zhang spoke up. “Bring her here. Let me see.”

The baby was placed in her arms, her little head resting against her mother’s wrist. Her lips moved slightly.

Zhang Qinghe thought of the little girl who once held up a phone asking for a starter pack, and of the ribbon flower tied around her wrist.

She’d worn that ribbon flower on her wrist when she married Zai Ye.

Back then, when the girl had called her “Mom,” it had been mostly a joke. But now, she truly was her daughter.

“Welcome to our family, Qian.”

The baby, nestled in her mother’s arms, suddenly squinted her eyes in what looked like a smile.

She waved her tiny arm and bumped into her mother’s hand. In that instant, the blurry mark on her palm vanished—replaced by a fourteen-sided die that rolled off the blanket with a soft clatter.

The three adults in the room: “……”

It seemed that even if she had been born under normal circumstances, she was never meant to be an ordinary child.

After the baby was born, Zai Ye claimed to have plenty of experience with kids, but his confidence quickly crumbled in the face of the newborn’s relentless cries.

Because of how unusual the child was, the couple didn’t dare leave her entirely in the care of nannies or maternity nurses. Most of the time, they looked after her themselves.

As the CEO and Vice President of their company, the two were so busy they often had to bring the baby to the office.

In the same office, one of them would be working while the other changed diapers and made formula. If one had to attend a meeting, the other would take over rocking the baby to sleep.

Their publicly listed company ended up looking more like a family-run workshop, with baby supplies and the scent of milk filling every corner of the office.

At thirty-five, Zai Ye clutched his aching back and thought back to his younger days, baffled at how he had ever managed to raise a child before.

“How is she even more of a handful now than she was back then?”

Film Emperor Tong dropped by again to see the baby, smiling at the couple. “If you two are tired, I can take care of her for a few days.”

Zai Ye: “Get lost.”

As the child grew, she began to resemble the daughter they remembered.

When she started learning to talk, Zai Ye cradled her head and asked, “Do you remember who I am?”

She opened her mouth and sprayed him with a faceful of baby drool, then burst into gleeful laughter at his dismayed expression, flailing her arms and legs in delight.

Vice President Zhang sat nearby, calmly opening a casual game they’d been running for years—Feed the Little Yellow Duck—and placed it in front of the child.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the screen, following the little duck as it moved. She raised her arms and began tapping at the phone screen, babbling excitedly and trying to grab the device.

Vice President Zhang said, “It’s definitely her.”

Zai Ye: “…”

When the child turned three, it was time for kindergarten.

On her first day, she stood with both hands stuffed into the pockets of her overalls, sighing like a little adult. “Ugh, kindergarten again. I’m so over it.”

No matter how many times she might’ve gone before, this time she still had to go.

To the teachers at the kindergarten, little Zai Qian’s family situation was… complicated. Mostly because she had way too many relatives.

Other kids had just a mom and a dad. But Zai Qian had her parents, plus a godfather who often picked her up to go play, and occasionally, random people claiming to be her godparents would show up.

Every time, the teachers had to contact her parents to confirm whether these so-called godparents were legit.

Strangely, her parents often looked confused themselves, as if they weren’t sure either. But when the teachers asked Zai Qian, she would always nod calmly.

One day, the kindergarten teacher encountered yet another of these situations.

A strange woman had come to the school, saying she was there to visit Qian.

She was dressed in traditional Chinese clothing—probably a Hanfu enthusiast, the teacher thought. She looked beautiful, so beautiful it put most celebrities to shame.

But… was that a sword hanging from her waist? A prop, maybe?

When little Zai Qian was brought out, the teacher asked, “Qian, is this another one of your godmothers?”

“Mama,” Qian said, breaking free from the teacher’s hand and running into the woman’s arms, hugging her leg and rubbing against it affectionately.

The teacher watched them and sighed again—this child really had too many relatives.

Tong Jianxu had just wrapped up filming, and the set happened to be near the kindergarten. As soon as he was done, he took a car over to see the child.

To his surprise, he saw Qian at the gate, talking to a woman in strange ancient-style clothing.

“Qian! Who’s this? A relative from your parents’ side? I’ve never seen her before.”

He walked over and gave the unfamiliar woman a polite smile.

The woman, her expression distant, looked at him and said, “Since you’re here, I can rest easy. You’re better at taking care of her than I am.”

Tong Jianxu: “?” Why is she talking to me like we know each other?

He thought, Maybe she’s a fan and recognizes me?

“Do we know each other?” he asked.

“Do you believe in the Three Thousand Worlds, in karma and reincarnation?” she replied.

Tong Jianxu was speechless. Is she trying to convert me to some religion?

She studied him and asked again, “Would you rather be a woman or a man?”

Tong Jianxu: “…” No way. Is she one of those delusional fans?

“Obviously I’m a man. Are you joking with me?” he said, putting on a polite but distant smile.

“Very well,” the woman said, and suddenly a fragrant pill appeared in her hand. “True Restoration Pill. It can heal your body and soul.”

If she didn’t know Qian, Tong Jianxu would’ve called the police right then and there.

He forced a smile. “Ma’am, you’re not trying to sell fake medicine, are you?”

“You really are a pain everywhere you go,” she said.

Before he could react, she flicked the pill into his mouth. He hadn’t even seen her move. His mouth opened involuntarily, and the pill slid down his throat.

Tong Jianxu: “!!!”

He clutched his throat, coughing violently, as he heard the woman say goodbye to Qian.

“I just came to see you. It’s time for me to go.”

“Okay! Mama, will you come see me again?”

“Take care. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

When he looked up again, she was gone.

Tong Jianxu had no idea what had just happened, but that strange pill really did change something in his deformed body.

Later, he asked Qian who that strange woman was.

Qian fiddled with the Fourteen-sided Die on her wrist and told him, “That’s my mama. Her name is Gongxi Yue!”

***

My Magical Friend

Yu Hui had a friend she’d known since kindergarten—Zai Qian.

Zai Qian was a magical person. Yu Hui had thought so ever since they were little.

While the rest of the kids were crying and playing silly games, Qian would stand off to the side, hands in her pockets, staring solemnly at the sky. Sometimes she’d have a snack in hand, gaze at the sky, and nibble away.

The teachers didn’t allow too many snacks, but Qian always had a way of hiding them. No matter how many were confiscated, she could magically produce more.

Yu Hui had first befriended Qian for her snacks.

And it wasn’t just her—many of the kids in kindergarten followed Qian around hoping for a bite. Qian would often open a pack and share it with everyone.

As a result, the whole class ended up too full to eat lunch. After a while, a few of the chubbier kids got even rounder from all the snacking.

Eventually, the teachers had enough and called Qian’s parents in for a talk. Only then did she stop bringing snacks to share.

But how she managed to hide so many snacks remained a mystery Yu Hui could never solve.

Later, they ended up in the same elementary school. Among all the kids who still cried over everything, Qian remained the most unique.

She was pretty, and the boys in class liked to tease her, poking her clothes with their pens.

Then they’d get beaten up. Because her magical friend Qian knew martial arts!

Zai Qian wielded her stick like Sun Wukong, swinging so fast it left afterimages, beating the hands-off boys in class until their heads were covered in bumps.

After that, rumors started circulating in their class that Zai Qian had trained in martial arts at the Shaolin Temple.

Yu Hui asked her, “Did you really learn martial arts at the Shaolin Temple?!”

Zai Qian thought for a moment. “Martial arts at Shaolin? Sort of.”

Yu Hui thought her friend was so cool!

Yu Hui had always been a top student, but her friend Zai Qian had never been much into studying. Whenever she had free time, she’d be glued to her phone playing games.

Yu Hui suspected that during the holidays, Zai Qian stayed up all night gaming at home. Otherwise, why would she come back to school after break looking so exhausted and sleepy, slumped over her desk?

“Qian, don’t spend your whole vacation playing games,” she said, worried.

Her best friend lifted her head from her arms and said in a low, tired voice, “I wasn’t playing games. I went to a magic school over the break to learn magic. That’s why I’m so tired.”

“Come on, I’m being serious,” Yu Hui said.

“Sigh, so am I,” Zai Qian replied, still sprawled on the desk.

“Wait… don’t tell me you didn’t do your homework either?” Yu Hui asked.

“What? We had homework over the break?”

“You didn’t do any of it?! The teacher’s about to check it!” Yu Hui was getting anxious on her behalf.

But her magical friend didn’t seem the least bit worried. She just looked a little annoyed, got up, rummaged through her things for a blank workbook, and walked out with it.

“I’m going to the bathroom to finish my homework.”

Yu Hui couldn’t understand—why do homework in the bathroom? And class was about to start! How much could she possibly get done in that short time?

When the bell rang, Zai Qian strolled back in right on time, a few workbooks tucked under her arm, and a red bougainvillea flower pinched between her fingers.

It looked like not only had she not rushed to finish her homework, she’d gone flower-picking too.

Yu Hui flipped through her completed homework and was stunned. How had she written so much in so little time?

Did she get someone to help her? And if so, why didn’t she ask her best friend to help too?

She looked at Zai Qian with a mix of betrayal and indignation.

“Where did you do your homework?!”

Zai Qian flopped back onto her desk and mumbled, “I went to a SSS-level dungeon in the Infinite Worlds to finish it. Time flows differently there.”

There she went again, saying weird stuff.

Her friend always liked to make up these bizarre stories.

One winter break, Yu Hui had tried to invite her over to hang out. But when she called, Zai Qian said over the phone, “I can’t. I have to go cultivate immortality.”

Yu Hui: “?”

She hung up, heartbroken.

When school started again, she confronted Zai Qian angrily. “You said you were cultivating over the break—how’d that go?!”

Zai Qian answered with a straight face, like it was all real: “It’s tough. My spiritual roots aren’t great. My Father Brother suggested I switch to demonic cultivation.”

Spiritual roots? Father Brother? Demonic cultivation?

“Stop spouting nonsense! Weren’t you learning magic before? Aren’t you a magical girl?” Yu Hui snapped.

Her eccentric friend nodded. “I do know magic.”

“I don’t believe you. Unless you conjure an ice castle like Elsa!”

She was just joking, but Zai Qian suddenly reached behind her and pulled out a small ice-sculpted castle, thunking it down on her desk.

“See? I really can use ice magic.”

Yu Hui stared, slack-jawed, glancing behind her again and again.

How had she hidden such a big block of ice?

“Hahahahaha!” Zai Qian burst out laughing at her stunned expression, clearly pleased with herself for pulling off the prank.

“I get it now—you’ve been learning stage magic, haven’t you? This is just a magic prop!” Yu Hui finally realized.

But Zai Qian’s strangeness didn’t stop at martial arts or magic tricks—it extended to her hobbies too.

She was a cosplay enthusiast. Yu Hui had caught her several times wandering around in full costume.

Once, Yu Hui was at the supermarket when she saw her best friend step out from behind a tree, dressed like a wizard and holding a wand.

“Hey! Qian, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just got back from a con,” she replied.

“Wow, who are you cosplaying? Someone from Harry Potter? Where’s your owl, haha!”

As she said that, Zai Qian looked up, so Yu Hui looked up too.

Perched in the tree above them was a strange-looking bird, staring at them with an almost human gaze.

Yu Hui felt a little creeped out. “What kind of bird is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Oh, that’s my owl,” Zai Qian said.

“Hahaha, you’re hilarious!”

Yes, her friend had a knack for saying the most ridiculous things with a straight face.

Another time, Yu Hui came out of a bookstore and saw Zai Qian leaping over a hedge in a flowing hanfu dress.

“Qian! What are you doing here? Just got back from another con?”

Zai Qian stopped, smoothed out her messy hair, and said, “Yep.”

“What are you cosplaying this time? Your outfit’s all torn, and is that a cut on your face? Did something happen?”

“Nope. It’s battle damage makeup,” her friend said calmly.

Yu Hui didn’t get her tastes, but she walked beside her carrying a bag of books, glancing at the sword in Zai Qian’s hand.

“Wow, your prop sword is really pretty!”

“Pretty, right? I just pulled it out of the Sword Tomb.”

“Uh…”

She really loved making stuff up.

“What kind of setting is this now? I’m not playing along.”

“Sigh, fine. Don’t play along then.”

Even though her friend said and did the weirdest things, Yu Hui still really liked her.

She wanted to be friends with her forever.

“Qian, let’s go hang out during the May Day holiday!”

“May Day? Probably not. I won’t have time.”

Yu Hui nodded knowingly. “Let me guess—you’re going to magic school again? Or off to cultivate immortality?”

“Neither,” Zai Qian cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m a Conquest executor bound to a System. I’ve been forced to travel through multiple worlds. Now, I’ve returned in glory, ready to take revenge on the System and the forces behind it. This May Day, I plan to infiltrate the System’s headquarters—Main System Space—and uncover the truth.”

Yu Hui: Suddenly not so sure she wanted to be friends anymore.

“Enough with the System stuff, Qian. Did you finish your homework? There’s a ton this week.”

“Nope… Let me copy yours.”

“Aren’t you a System Conquest executor? And you still need to copy someone’s homework?”

Yu Hui watched her friend get all flustered, muttering about how she was saving the world and what’s the big deal about copying homework—and couldn’t help but laugh, covering her mouth.

Having a weird friend was actually kind of fun.

———Main Story End———

Translator’s Note:

Thank you so much for staying with Qian through all her little adventures across the worlds.

Translating this story has been such a joy. There were moments I laughed out loud at her antics, moments that warmed my heart, and moments that made me pause and think. Sharing that experience with all of you has been the best part of this journey.

Also, don’t miss the extra goodies! There’s a super cute side story with Zai Ye (The Happy Family of Zhang Qinghe), plus some bonus chapters (Next four chapters) from different worlds. They’re totally worth checking out.

Thank you again for reading, for supporting, and for being part of this journey.