After Transmigrating, I Died of Depression Without My Phone - Chapter 95.1

Technically speaking, Long Xiang hadn’t spent even a full year in the other world.

Yet it felt as though she had lived a lifetime there.

Even now, back home, sitting in her dorm room and eating familiar steamed ribs from the cafeteria, she still couldn’t shake a feeling of unease.

Hoping to find some peace of mind, Long Xiang decided to take a break and go home.

Her university was in her hometown, just a 20-minute bus ride from home.

But she didn’t take a taxi, nor did she rent a bike. Instead, she walked, slowly and deliberately, step by step, in the direction of her house.

Though it wasn’t hot anymore, it had rained the day before, and the air was damp. Fallen leaves littered the streets, and it was a bit chilly.

Wearing a light beige sweater, jeans, and white sneakers, Long Xiang couldn’t even remember how long she had been walking.

The constant sounds of street vendors and passersby echoed in her ears. Her hometown was a tourist city, always bustling with visitors from across the country. As a child, she had found the crowds annoying and the traffic inconvenient, but now, watching the tourists, she felt nothing but a sense of vitality and peace.

This was the life she had longed for: lively, equal, where strangers didn’t care about one’s status, wealth, or dark secrets. Everyone minded their own business, kept their spaces tidy, and coexisted peacefully without interference.

Long Xiang stopped outside a famous local temple, watching as people lined up to buy tickets for worship. The line stretched so long, it nearly reached the street.

She didn’t enter, but stood there watching for a long time, strangely unable to move.

As the cold settled in, she eventually turned toward a nearby tea shop, buying a floral tea-flavored ice cream. Returning to the sidewalk, she stood there, gazing at the red temple walls.

Across the street, an old man sat beside a chalkboard advertising luggage storage. He sat, waiting for customers, but instead, he noticed a city official approaching. With a single glance from the official, the old man quickly pulled his sign back inside.

At that moment, Long Xiang finished the last bite of her ice cream, feeling the cold seep into her limbs, making her stiff. She clapped her hands together, exhaling into her palms to warm them.

She could still feel the cold. It seemed like she was no different from an ordinary person.

Could it be… she wondered, I’ve lost my spiritual energy?

Finding a quiet corner, Long Xiang tried to gather spiritual energy at her fingertips—nothing happened.

So, coming home had taken away her ability to cultivate.

If that were true, she thought, it wasn’t such a bad trade.

After all, nothing was more important than being home.

Yes, home.

The rest of the way, Long Xiang ran.

She ran all the way back to her neighborhood, where the security guards and streets were still familiar, even down to the spots that always seemed to have puddles.

Long Xiang couldn’t help but think—she, someone who should have been long dead, had come back. It looked like time had rewound to the day before she died. What about her parents?

Would they remember what happened after her death?

As she took the elevator up to her apartment, she absentmindedly browsed a shopping app on her phone, checking on the trees she had purchased and planted. Their number hadn’t changed. Yet her phone’s wallpaper, a photo of her and Beiting Xue, had turned black.

Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly opened her gallery, only to find that not only were the pictures of her and Beiting Xue gone, but all the videos of those great battles and events were missing too.

Everything was gone.

The last photo in her gallery was from yesterday. She checked the calendar repeatedly and confirmed it—she had returned to the day before her sudden death.

“Miss, aren’t you getting out?”

The elevator doors had opened and were about to close again when a neighbor’s voice snapped Long Xiang back to reality. She quickly thanked them and stepped out.

One more door. Just one more, and she would be home.

Maybe her parents weren’t home. They liked to go for walks in the evening—her father enjoyed strolling through the park and playing ball, and her mother loved dancing and having tea. Her brother had his own work to do. It was the middle of the semester, and she was supposed to be at school. If she came home suddenly, she might find the house empty.

But an empty house was still home.

Thinking this, Long Xiang unlocked the door with her fingerprint, only to look up and see her mother holding a bowl of fruit, walking toward her.

Their eyes met, and Long Xiang opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Her mother’s hand trembled, and the bowl slipped from her grasp, spilling grapes all over the floor.

Long Xiang bent down to pick them up, but her mother grabbed her arm.

“You’re back?” Her mother’s voice was hoarse, slow with disbelief.

Long Xiang straightened up, looking at her mother for a long time before nodding.

Her mother, still stunned, murmured, “Good, good. You’re back… I washed some grapes for you. I was waiting for you to come back and eat them.”

Her mother’s reaction was strange.

Long Xiang quietly followed her to the couch, where her mother sat, saying, “The grapes are dirty now. Let me wash some more for you.”

“Mom, I’m not hungry. You don’t have to…”

“Busy? What busy? I’m taking care of my daughter. How could that be busy?”

Her mother’s words made it impossible for Long Xiang to refuse.

She sat there, stunned, on the couch, watching her mother’s retreating figure. Slowly, the cold that had gripped her since she came home began to thaw. Her body gradually warmed, and her limbs regained their strength.

Her gaze shifted to other parts of the room, but everything at home remained the same as before. There were no additional memorial tablets, which confirmed that time had truly turned back.

So, after she died, were all those memories really hers alone to remember?

If that was the case, would time eventually make her forget them too?

Or maybe, was it all just a dream?

There wasn’t a single trace of evidence on her phone. So, what could prove that she had really traveled through time?

The trees in the desert?

Had she really met someone like Beiting Xue?

Had she truly fallen in love with someone like him?

“You can’t take me with you, but at least take a snowflake,” the familiar voice echoed in her ears.

Long Xiang suddenly remembered something. She opened her hand, a strong desire rising within her to see the snowflake left behind by Beiting Xue. Yet, at the same time, she feared that, like her failed attempts to use spiritual power, this would end in failure too. The anxiety made her break out in a sweat.

Fortunately, this time, things went well.

A beautiful six-sided snowflake really did appear in her palm.

The snowflake didn’t melt. It lay cool in her hand, and its size resembled that of a pendant.

Long Xiang lifted the snowflake to examine it when she heard someone beside her ask, “Is it snowing outside? How can there be such a big snowflake? What month is it?”

Long Xiang quickly closed her hand, startled, but her lips couldn’t form the words she wanted to say.

How could she explain it?

Her mother didn’t remember anything.