Ah Chen’s domain closure requires some time to upgrade.

As the core of the domain, Ah Chen doesn’t need to do much; everything is controlled by her consciousness and power.

She is currently sitting in the villa’s living room, holding the letter, while the others cautiously huddle at the sides, fearing to upset Ah Chen and lose their chance to exist. Even though they always ended miserably in the story, they still don’t want to disappear like that.

"The domain is upgrading and cannot be open temporarily. Once I’ve revised the rules and applied for opening it from the Main God, only then will adventurers come in. In the meantime, you can read more books, and by then, you may even become teachers in the school. Even in our place, teachers need real skills; otherwise, you’ll end up sweeping floors."

The Tan Family visibly relaxed, relieved that Ah Chen wouldn’t blame them. Just being able to continue existing was good enough.

Ah Chen sat on the sofa, glancing at the letter in her hand.

Brother Bai Chao said it was burned for her by someone from outside. She gently pressed her lips; who could it be? She died at the age of fifteen, and the story shown back then was her past. The cause of death was jumping from the third floor, headfirst, dying instantly. Being young and ignorant, having seen so little, she impulsively sought death and could not break free for years. Actually, she was quite fortunate to encounter the Main God; even though she couldn’t be human anymore, she still existed in this world, not muddling through years, repeating her story, and she wouldn’t have the chance to fully awaken today.

She thought of Ah Chen again, and the displeasure on her face vanished instantly, replaced with a smile.

Since the letter was in her hands, she should take a look.

Opening the letter, the salutation began with "Eldest Sister."

Ah Chen was somewhat surprised but not entirely; she already understood who wrote this letter—it must be Tan Yao. Only Tan Yao. She remembered at the moment of her death seeing Tan Yao’s terrified and regretful eyes.

Eldest Sister, I’m sorry.

Since you left, I have spent my life recalling the scene when Mom and Dad had people take me and Tan Rui back home. When they asked who took the money and jewelry from home, I shouldn’t have hurriedly blurted out that I saw you using an expensive new phone.

I really shouldn’t have said that; it wasn’t out of fear. It was an unconscious habit, blaming you for anything bad that happened in this household. I’ve replayed that moment countless times, thinking if I hadn’t casually spoken that day, even if Mom and Dad suspected you, they might not have stormed into your room to search for things, nor cause the eventual tragedy.

Your funeral was simple; Mom and Dad almost informed no one, but some of your friends came that day—they were the little yellow-haired ones Mom and Dad despised. I could tell they wanted to cause trouble but held back out of respect for you. After the funeral, they rushed out and shouted loudly to everyone that you had earned your own money, didn’t take anything from anyone, not a penny, which made Mom and Dad lose face. They probably only dared to use words, afraid of disturbing you.

When you were taken to the city, I couldn’t believe it. Why was there such a rustic eldest sister from the countryside? I felt so embarrassed and even somewhat resented your approach. Later, some conflicts occurred between us, and you never approached Tan Rui and me again. You always treated us coldly, as if you saw through something, which made me extremely uncomfortable and dislike you even more.

So, I don’t know when it started, but I automatically came to see you as the opposite side. Believing you were bad meant Tan Rui and I were good; seeing Mom and Dad question you even made me happy.

Later, when you were gone, I slowly began to understand many things and realized how hateful I was.

I know saying anything now is pointless—you can’t see it anymore. But if I said nothing, I would feel uneasy.

Eldest Sister, ten years after you left, the Tan Family’s situation wasn’t good.

Mom and Dad’s bias, indulgence, and pampering made Tan Rui reckless, wasting money everywhere and getting involved in things he shouldn’t have. If it weren’t for your death, which created a gap between them and me, I might have been dragged down too. The Tan Rui they loved later even hit and kicked them, and several times I had to send them to the hospital. I asked them if they regretted it, but they didn’t say anything, just looked lost and pitiful.

I don’t know if Eldest Sister needs them to regret and apologize—no matter how many times I asked, they just remained silent.

Even if I luckily escaped all that, I haven’t lived peacefully in this life. I often wake up with shock at night, repeatedly dreaming of the scene where you died wrongfully in front of me.

If time could turn back, I wouldn’t say that extra sentence that day. If I could go back further, I would admit that I picked the flowers in the garden, and that it was Tan Rui who broke the ornaments and carpet. Unfortunately, there is no "if"...

After finishing the letter, it turned into ashes in Ah Chen’s hand.

She knew that much time passed outside; the Tan Family likely hasn’t existed for many years now.

This letter did stir some emotions in her heart, but just a little, because she had anticipated their reactions. It was just a pity she couldn’t say goodbye to her concerned friends and would never have the chance again.

She only wished them a safe and well life.

"I wonder what the second trial will be like. Everyone, be careful moving forward," Huo Jingchen reminded.

They didn’t have much time to rest, only ten minutes briefly, but they hadn’t encountered any danger in the first trial.

Wei Yao actually wanted to ask what rewards Ah Chen and the others received, but each of these three wasn’t easy to provoke, and his relationship with them wasn’t good, so he didn’t ask further. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Since he didn’t bother them, Ah Chen was also too lazy to pay attention to him.

After ten minutes, they were teleported out of the rest space.

In a blink of an eye, they found themselves in another unfamiliar place.

They were now at the entrance of a village, gazing at the inscriptions on the stone monument. Among many words, the three most prominent characters were: Food Village.

The small characters around it provided a simple introduction to the village, and to avoid any mistakes, everyone decided to look carefully.

Ah Chen looked at the path leading into the village, seeing the fog still thick—a sign, like the seal on the Tan Family’s gate before, that couldn’t be passed through easily. This time, it clearly wasn’t as simple as having everyone together to enter; it seemed they needed to trigger something as adventurers.

Bai Xingwen tried moving towards the fog, but indeed, couldn’t advance.

"Let’s look around. The area’s not that big; there should be some clues," he suggested.

As suspected, the difficulty increased in the second trial; they had to figure out a way in for themselves. Bai Xingwen was slightly on guard, unsure what dangers awaited inside.

Everyone searched around, circled back, and looked at the stone monument again to ensure they missed not a single word.

At that moment, some noises emerged from behind them.