The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy - Chapter 126 - Staying in the Shadows

The lost daughter of the Liu family, Liu Feng, has been found. The whole family looks down on her.

Liu Feng only had a small house in the countryside. She had a poor widow’s mother and a stingy brother. She usually lived by herself doing small business.

When Liu Feng was brought back, everyone was laughing at him.

“She’s far worse than her younger sister. Does she really think she’s the eldest daughter? She’s just a scapegoat.”

“She’s just a poor girl from the countryside. She should be laughing to death to be able to marry a young master from a Lower Nine Flows Family!”

However, Liu Feng’s series of actions stunned everyone.

Her so-called widowed mother was actually a famous lady in Paris, and millions of people would go crazy just to see her.

Her so-called stingy brother was actually the chairman of a corporation with hundreds of millions of contracts. He held the power of life and death.

The small house that she called home was actually the best villa in Washington. The property rights were all under her name.

What she meant by doing a small business was actually investing in stocks, and she was the new stock god with a net worth of 100 billion…

Everyone: “Where’s the girl from the countryside?!”

After Liu Feng broke off the engagement.

Everyone questioned, “She definitely won’t be able to get married!”

Liu Feng married the powerful Third Young Master Gu.

Everyone gritted their teeth. “She definitely won’t have a happy marriage!”

Liu Feng was someone that Third Young Master Gu treasured.

Everyone was in despair. “She will definitely not receive Third Young Master Gu’s care!”

Third Young Master Gu said, “Madam Gu, it’s getting cold. You should wear more clothes.”

She was a supreme prodigy, and he just so happened to be her match.

Persona:

Liu Feng: Omnipotent girl, beautiful valiant, with many alternate identities.

Gu Duo: Mysterious, powerful, handsome, rich, devoted.

He is a firefighter, his face blackened by smoke, coming from the flames, and in one glance, his life was set.The first time he met the young girl, she bent slightly towards him and said, “Sir...”He was amused, thinking she was a little eccentric...She had never seen such a handsome man, tall like a general, and when their eyes met, she was bewildered and forgot she wasn't in the palace...Later, during the school art performance, the young girl sat on stage, dressed in ancient costume, with a veil covering her face, holding a pipa, her eyebrows shy, appearing both delicate and graceful...He raised his alluring eyes, recalling the girl said she knew a little about musical instruments and chess; she was modest.Seeing him in the audience, her heart raced, wanting to perform well but accidentally struck the wrong chord, fortunately unnoticed by him...Later still, the young girl, now grown, suddenly confessed to him, and the usually calm and composed man was caught off guard...It was a love she had hidden deep in her heart for many years, like shards of glass in her palm, both a patient endurance and impulsive agony...The joy of love at first sight, a hidden affection...She would never know that the brother she secretly admired had been waiting for her to grow up...

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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