He had touched the little mirror.

 

“Player x8205,” said the Black-and-White Cube, “you’ve confirmed that you don’t want the world item, right? There are many useful ones in this world, for example—”

“Are you still trying to persuade me to take items at a time like this?” Xing Ye interrupted.

The Black-and-White Cube was silent for a moment before replying, “Fine then. Congratulations, Player x8205, on achieving another perfect victory in an advanced world. Now, draw your reward QR code.”

The Cube’s voice was modeled after the player’s own; Xing Ye’s Cube spoke with his tone, Cao Qian’s with a female voice, and the Little Mirror’s sounded the same as Xing Ye’s but with a childlike and not-so-cute tone.

Its original voice had been cold and mechanical—now it sounded drained, weary, almost dejected.

After Xing Ye scanned the QR code displayed on the Cube, the description appeared on his phone:

Welfare-type Equipment QR Code:
If an equipped item linked to this code can enter the real world, it may, at night, temporarily leave its vessel and walk in the physical world as a conscious spirit.
Although the player exists as pure consciousness, basic physical laws still apply—no phasing through walls, no teleportation, no x-ray vision, no sound.
The ability has little practical use; it simply lets the item “let out the wind“, so to speak. (NT: idiom meaning to give a prisoner or confined person a short period of freedom or relief.)

After reading the description, Xing Ye patted the Little Mirror. “You can come out of the mirror now.”

Lu Mingze was overjoyed. Even if he couldn’t gain any superpowers and no one except Xing Ye could see him, at least he could finally move about instead of being trapped inside the mirrored phone case.

He was simply happy—but Xing Ye, recalling the previous welfare QR code that allowed eating and sleeping, reasoned: “This code must serve as physical rehabilitation. The stamina your consciousness uses during nighttime movement will feed back into your real body. Through your spirit’s activity, your muscular atrophy will gradually recover. Being able to eat, sleep, and rehabilitate—these welfare QR codes are step-by-step ways for a fate-following tool to return to the body.”

Lu Mingze brightened for a while before saying, “Too bad I didn’t draw an attack-type QR code or restore my achievement title. Honestly, I don’t need rehab that much; my family always hires professional masseurs, so my condition isn’t too bad.”

“Still,” Xing Ye replied, “no massage equals self-exercise in effect. And I doubt the system will let you regain your achievement title so easily. Titles are products of the advanced-world QR codes. After you failed the final level, the system reclaimed everything—you restoring that title is very unlikely.”

Lu Mingze sighed. “But my title was Turning Misfortune into Blessing, and it was really useful! You could use it once per world to reverse a desperate situation. For instance, right before an enemy kills me, I could activate it—then maybe he’d trip, tap the wrong QR code, or start talking too much. I could take advantage and escape or even turn the tide!”

He had never possessed an offensive skill, but this title essentially transformed luck into a weapon—extremely effective in critical moments.

“It’s fine,” Xing Ye comforted him. “I don’t need that title for now. If danger comes, Stealing the Sky and Swapping the Sun and Chasing the Sun Like Kuafu are enough to reverse the situation.”

The Black-and-White Cube suddenly chuckled, “Heh-heh-heh. Player x8205, what you just said sounds an awful lot like setting a death flag. I hope you won’t curse yourself—but fate-defying players tend to have crow-mouths, you know.”

Xing Ye and Lu Mingze exchanged looks.
Lu Mingze asked, “Anything else? If not, we’re heading back.”

The Cube paused, then replied, “...After you finish settling points, items, and QR codes, you may leave on your own.”

Xing Ye didn’t have much to settle. He’d once had a total of a little over 31 million points; this world’s use of Paper Substitute had consumed a few hundred thousand, but his reward of 400 thousand made up for it. His base of 30 million remained intact. Neither he nor Lu Mingze bothered to count the small change.

As for QR codes, he had only one left—“I Have Every Form You Desire.”
The Paper Substitute had already been used during the Mountain-God ritual, and since the Little Mirror existed to protect him, the Every Form QR code was far too powerful to waste. Xing Ye decided to keep it as a trump card.

His only tool remained the Eye of Truth, upgraded with Unparalleled Beauty and its sub-skill Beacon Fires to amuse the Lords. No further changes.

While Xing Ye was checking his data, Cao Qian sent another message:

I challenged Hard Mode in the Villa World. After winning, I drew three QR codes: one lets Linlin return to the real world—I bought a crystal ornament as her vessel; the second was an “Erase Consciousness ” code, which I deleted; the third can merge my initial skill with Linlin’s. I couldn’t bring myself to use it—both “Great Strength” and “Agility” are too precious, so I’ve been keeping it.

Xing Ye, noticing her hesitation, asked: Did you use it or are you asking my opinion?

Cao Qian replied: I just used it. I merged “Self-Deception” with “Agility,” hoping to keep the deception function and let it make me move faster—but unexpectedly, I got a completely unrelated ability.

Curious, Xing Ye asked: What ability?

Cao Qian: It’s called “Transformation Girl.” It lets me transform into a sailor-uniformed magical girl, enhancing speed, strength, reflexes, and self-healing, while slightly increasing luck. As long as I stay in that form, I can practically dodge every bullet in a firefight—only getting grazed at most! The requirement is team intimacy above 90, costing 100 points per hour, lasting up to 12 hours, usable twice per 24 hours. Doesn’t that mean I can maintain the form for 24 hours straight?

Xing Ye: “…”

He thought quietly for a while: That... actually suits both you and Linlin perfectly.

On the other end of the phone, Cao Qian thought about it and realized Xing Ye was right.
The only real connection between her and Linlin was their shared love for the second dimension (NT: ie. anime, manga, and related pop culture). She liked anime and novels, Linlin liked anime merchandise, and when they were little, both had loved magical-girl shows.

The skill “Self-Deception” already contained elements of concealment and transformation—very much like the transformation powers of many magical girls.
Moreover, after merging with “Agility,” the ability had evolved: not only retaining its original speed and nimbleness, but also gaining luck and healing power, greatly enhancing Cao Qian’s combat ability.
Overall, it was a good result.

But…

Cao Qian glanced at her phone.
The skill description listed side effects: she might unconsciously blurt out phrases like “For justice, I will defeat you!”—embarrassing if said in reality; she might develop delusions like “I must charge into the most dangerous place!”; a “recognition filter” could appear—though she looked exactly the same, her teammates would somehow fail to recognize her.
And if her thoughts were not righteous or kind enough, the Transformation Girl state would forcibly deactivate.

“Guga guga guga,” Linlin said, “I don’t know what you’re worrying about. You may not talk much, but you’re actually really kind-hearted and stubborn—once you’ve made up your mind, you never waver. There’s no way you’d ‘turn evil’ and get kicked out of Transformation Girl mode.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Cao Qian replied succinctly.

She looked down at her legs—she’d never worn a miniskirt in her entire life. Just imagining the magical-girl outfit made her feel mortified.

“Guga guga guga, then just practice wearing short skirts when you go back,” Linlin comforted. “You’re thin anyway.”

Cao Qian: “…”

Forget it. She’d only transform when she absolutely had to in the next world. It was really too embarrassing.
The skill also consumed a lot of points—but luckily, Cao Qian had earned 400,000 points in the Mountain God world, so she could afford 100 hours of use.

After checking their personal inventories, everyone returned to the real world.

Lu Mingze was ecstatic. At 1:30 a.m., he couldn’t wait to slip out of the mirror and start pacing around the room.

After a few experiments, he said, “My state right now is so weird. I clearly can’t walk through walls, which means physical laws still apply to me. But when I try to pick up a cup, my hand just goes right through it. Why is that?”

He sat down on the sofa, bounced twice, and exclaimed, “Huh? I can sit on the sofa! That’s amazing!”

Xing Ye thought for a moment. “It’s probably due to multiple-reality interference. For small movable objects like the teacup, you and they exist in different layers of reality, so you can’t touch them. But when you touch a wall, the rules shift again, aligning your reality with the wall’s.”

Lu Mingze: “…”

He stared silently at Xing Ye for a while, then said, “Forget it. I’ll stop thinking about it—I can’t wrap my head around that.”

Xing Ye smiled faintly. “If you want some tea, I can ‘offer’ it to you—but not too much, or you’ll have trouble sleeping.”

“I don’t want tea,” Lu Mingze tilted his head, looked at Xing Ye for a moment, then suddenly opened his arms. “You—try hugging me.”

Xing Ye froze for a second.

Lu Mingze pouted. “You’re the only one who can see me. That means you and I share the same reality. If your rules match the wall’s, then you should be able to touch me. Come on—try it.”

Xing Ye watched him quietly, setting the teacup back on the table.

Lu Mingze added, “We’re already officially a couple now. Hug me, won’t you?”

Xing Ye reached out, but just before touching Lu Mingze, he pulled his hands back—clasping them together tightly instead.

He took a deep breath and said softly, “Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”

His lover was right before his eyes—not a soulless shell, but a comrade who had fought by his side. At this moment, Xing Ye felt an unfamiliar shyness born of genuine human emotio — he was afraid he still wouldn’t be able to touch Lu Mingze, afraid of disappointment.

Seeing how restrained Xing Ye was, fists clenched and tense, Lu Mingze smiled. “Don’t be so cautious. Even if you can’t touch me, nothing changes—it’ll just stay the same.”

Then Lu Mingze threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Xing Ye’s neck.

Xing Ye froze, stunned, for a long moment—then slowly placed his hands on Lu Mingze’s back and patted him gently twice.

He had touched the Little Mirror.

 

Translator : DarNan