After Transmigrating, I Died of Depression Without My Phone - Chapter 99.1
Seeing that Song Qingtong wasn’t going to follow her absurd request, Long Xiang, in a fit of desperation, punched herself in the face, knocking herself out cold.
Song Qingtong was completely stunned.
“Xiang… Have you really gone mad?!”
The commotion had woken up the other two roommates, and now all three were staring at the unconscious Long Xiang, exchanging bewildered glances before hurriedly dressing her and lifting her up.
“Auntie Zhang! We need to take her to the hospital!” Song Qingtong’s shout echoed through the dorm, loud enough to wake the dorm supervisor.
While Long Xiang remained unconscious, she heard nothing of the chaos around her. Nor did she dream of Beiting Xue again.
She sank into the darkness, and when she regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital bed.
White walls, bright lights, blue curtains, and the serious expressions of her roommates greeted her.
“You’re awake?” Li Shengsheng turned and called for the doctor. The blue curtain was drawn aside, and a young male doctor walked in, dressed in a white coat.
The three girls who had been frowning moments ago suddenly averted their eyes, casting furtive glances at Long Xiang, subtly winking at her.
Confused, Long Xiang looked toward the doctor’s face and immediately understood.
He was handsome.
Clean-cut, scholarly, tall and fair-skinned, with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked as if he hadn’t been working for long, probably around twenty-five or twenty-six years old.
Seeing that she was awake, he smiled and said, “Since you’re conscious now, you should be fine. Get ready to be discharged.”
Long Xiang still had a bit of a headache, so she instinctively raised her hand to rub her temple.
The doctor noticed and chuckled, “It’s probably… well, the aftermath of a hangover.”
A hangover was part of the problem, yes, but her headache had more to do with the punch she’d given herself.
Long Xiang certainly hadn’t gone easy on herself.
But the results hadn’t been what she had hoped for.
Now deeply disappointed, and already desensitized to handsome men after seeing Beiting Xue’s face so often, she quickly buried her head in her arms, losing interest.
Her roommates, noticing her reaction, didn’t feel much like gawking at the handsome doctor anymore either. After thanking him, Li Shengsheng walked over, pulled Long Xiang’s head out from her arms, and asked, puzzled, “What’s going on with you? Are you still drunk?”
Song Qingtong, exasperated, chimed in, “Normally, when you’re drunk, you just fall asleep. You’ve never been this crazy before! And what’s up with that punch? You really went all out. Look at that bruise—you’ll need to ice it when we get back.”
Even Panpan, who was usually quiet and reserved, couldn’t help but add, “Xiang Xiang, you’ve been acting really strange lately. Not only did you suddenly take time off, but ever since you came back, you’ve been so distracted, like there’s something in between you and the world.”
Something in between…
That comment hit the nail on the head.
Ever since her journey to the other world, it was only natural that she’d feel a sort of barrier between herself and everyone else.
But this time, after having spent so much time in that other world, she had somehow started feeling out of place in her own home.
Long Xiang took a deep breath and buried her face even deeper, pressing a pillow over her head.
Her roommates joined forces to pull her back out, asking, “What’s going on with you now?”
Long Xiang mumbled in frustration, “I’m ashamed.”
She had caused them so much trouble, and it was genuinely embarrassing.
She swore to herself that nothing like this would ever happen again!
“Alright, let’s go eat something nice—my treat.”
Long Xiang generously treated her roommates to a big meal, and after everyone was full and satisfied, they finally parted ways.
After being discharged from the hospital, it was just in time for a break. Long Xiang returned home, while her friends went back to the dorm.
When she arrived home, it was around sleep time, and she quietly entered the house, discovering that her mother was indeed fast asleep.
The bedroom door was ajar, so she gently closed it before allowing herself to move around more freely.
Passing through the dining room, she noticed a plate of freshly made dumplings still warm on the table, with a dish of vinegar and chopsticks carefully set out for her.
Her mother must have prepared them, calculating when she’d come home and leaving the food just for her.
She probably hadn’t been asleep for long.
Luckily, her roommates hadn’t told her mom about her embarrassing episode, or else her mother would likely have lost sleep over it.
Long Xiang quietly sat down. Even though she wasn’t hungry, she ate every single dumpling without leaving a single one behind.
After washing the dishes, Long Xiang felt uncomfortably full, yet when she returned to her room, she still couldn’t sleep.
Sigh.
Ever since she learned that entering a dream meant she could see the real Beiting Xue, she hadn’t had the chance to dream properly.
Long Xiang paced around her room for a bit. Once she felt the food had settled, she drew the curtains and lay down to rest.
This time, she finally drifted off.
Unfortunately, although she fell asleep and began dreaming, Beiting Xue did not appear.
Instead, she saw a vast, endless night covering the earth, the faintest hint of gray creeping along the horizon. It reminded her of the eternal night that had fallen over the human realm since she returned home.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the two worlds, but it seemed that the eternal night had lasted for at least seven days.
In the dream, it was as though she had the perspective of an omniscient observer, racing through countless scenes and witnessing endless faces filled with sorrow.
The human race—especially ordinary mortals—relied heavily on the heavens.
With the sun refusing to rise, people’s routines had been forced to change. They could only measure time by the water clocks, struggling to go about their days under the endless night.
While humans could barely manage, crops could not. Without sunlight, nothing could grow. If things continued like this, people would even begin to long for the days when demons still roamed the earth.
Back then, life was difficult, yes, but not hopeless.
Compared to mortals, the cultivators were faring better. They didn’t rely on labor but on their cultivation, and with the spiritual energy growing denser, the eternal night didn’t hinder their progress.
But as cultivators, they had a duty to protect the people, vanquish demons, and uphold the Dao. It was their responsibility to uncover the cause of the eternal night and restore sunlight to the world.
Long Xiang saw them, desperate and out of options, finally acknowledging that the Divine Pillar of the Celestial Ladder might be the source of the problem.
Lin Ziru stood at the forefront, alongside Su Qingyao, the master of Aqua Celestial Pavilion, as they set up an array against the pillar.
Several powerful figures from the cultivation world were attempting to confront the Divine Pillar, trying to uncover the dark secret hidden within.
The places where people worshipped Long Xiang and Beiting Xue as gods were filled with followers praying and offering sacrifices, hoping that the two “deities” could return to the human world and help them through this crisis.