Doomsday Wonderland

There was probably no woman in the world who would actually walk into the dark back room of a shabby store after the owner casually said, "You can wait in the back."

Xie Feng, of course, didn't move. She remained standing at the entrance, just one step away from the grayish-blue road outside. If anything went wrong, she could run right out and bolt down the street. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she smiled and said, "No, thank you. I'll wait here. Looks like it's going to rain soon—it's so stiflingly hot. How long until he gets here?"

It turned out the store owner wasn't the smuggler; his shop was just a middleman stop where the smugglers arranged meetings. The owner himself didn't seem to fully understand what "buying a ticket" really meant, but he was probably paid a little something for his cooperation and lack of curiosity.

The owner didn't seem to care where Xie Feng waited. He picked up his phone and made a call. "Hey, someone's here to buy a ticket..." he said while still glued to his game of solitaire on the computer. "Yeah, a girl. Says she was sent by someone named Chen Qingqing. When will you get here? Okay, got it."

Xie Feng's ears perked up.

After hanging up, the owner tossed his phone onto the table and said, "About ten minutes."

Xie Feng glanced at the phone.

It was an old model, and the sound leaked during calls. She hadn't caught everything while the owner was talking, but she could vaguely hear that the person on the other end spoke with an imperial accent.

The imperial accent alone didn't necessarily mean he was a government official—after all, the Eirenarch Empire had hundreds of millions of people, and they worked in all sorts of professions. Besides, to be a smuggler, you had to have connections, and ever since the Tear City had been handed over to the Eirenarch Empire, those with the most connections were, of course, the imperials.

Xie Feng admitted that the temptation of escape was so strong that, even after hearing the imperial accent, she decided to take the risk and stay.

"Why would an imperial come all the way here to do business?" she asked casually, testing the waters.

"Wherever there's money, that's where people go," the owner said, clearly local, but he didn't seem to care much about the imperials.

"How long have you been doing this?"

The owner kept playing his game, taking a few seconds before answering. "Hmm? This shop's been here for over ten years."

"No, I mean him..."

"Oh, how would I know? Half a year, a year maybe," the owner responded, indifferent.

Xie Feng had nothing more to say. She waited silently in the oppressive heat, her eyes constantly scanning the alleyway—ready to run at the first sign of anything unusual. The store was tucked into narrow, winding streets, and there were traffic mirrors set up to help with visibility. One mirror was conveniently positioned just outside the shop, giving her a decent view of the surroundings.

Outside, gray clouds began gathering in the sky, hinting at another summer storm. The air was sticky, thick, and heavy, clinging to her skin like it could be peeled off in layers. She almost wished it would rain sooner.

"Not many people like you go abroad for work alone," the owner suddenly remarked after playing his game for a bit. "Usually, it's couples or girlfriends, going together for company."

"Are a lot of people leaving?" Xie Feng immediately asked.

"In the past few months, quite a few," the owner replied. "I've had over a dozen people come through here. A lot of women just don't want to stick around anymore. Honestly, if you ask me, it's not that serious. No matter who's in charge, life goes on the same for us—what's there to be scared of?"

"But universities and companies have already started cutting back on admissions," Xie Feng couldn't help but mutter under her breath. This was only the first step, and everyone could see it coming.

The owner seemed unfazed. "Then don't go, what's the big deal? There's always a way to get by."

Of course he was aware of what was happening. There were rows of community posters plastered outside his shop, with slogans like "Return to the family, nurture the next generation," "Men and women have distinct roles, society is more harmonious," and "Marriage benefits, dual nationality for your children." The faces of the smiling man and woman posing as a couple were ones Xie Feng had grown tired of seeing everywhere.

"Nowadays, women love entering the workforce, competing with men for jobs and resources," a famous talk show host from the empire had once joked. "At work, the boss has to pay them a salary, and when they get home, they make their husbands hand over theirs. It's almost too easy to be a woman, isn't it?"

After the city's annexation, you rarely saw programs on TV in the local dialect anymore. Most locals spoke the empire's language with a noticeable accent, which wasn't considered proper by imperial standards. So, the flood of imperial TV shows quickly filled the void.

At the time, Xie Feng had been staying at a capsule hotel, and many locals had crowded around the TV in the lobby. When they heard the joke, they all laughed.

The owner started another game of solitaire, and Xie Feng fell silent.

She had never left Tear City in her life and knew very little about other countries. The reason she'd made up her mind to leave was, embarrassingly enough, somewhat trivial. When a neighboring star was destroyed, the news channels had run emergency broadcasts from different nations around the clock. She had overheard one male host refer to the neighboring star as a "sister planet."

Xie Feng exhaled slowly, her eyes sweeping over the traffic mirror outside once again—only to freeze in place.

The fat man from the train—how had he found her here?

After she had shaken him off at the station, she'd retraced her steps more than once. Maybe he'd spotted her then. And since she'd only been in this store a short time, if he had been quietly tailing her out of spite, it was entirely possible she was only just now noticing him.

Watching the man scanning his surroundings as he moved toward the store, Xie Feng's mind raced. She quickly pretended to browse the shelves, taking a few steps deeper into the shadows while keeping her eyes fixed on the mirror outside.

What should she do? Should she alert the store owner? They were in a shady business—what if, out of caution, they decided not to deal with her?

At that moment, the entrance dimmed, and someone walked in from the bright daylight outside. Xie Feng's heart jumped, but she quickly realized it wasn't the fat man. The newcomer was of medium height, with trendy, fluffy hair. He looked at the store owner and asked, "Someone buying a ticket? Where are they?"

The smuggler!

Xie Feng breathed a sigh of relief. She gave the man a quick once-over, noting that he didn't seem to be with the authorities, and called out, "I'm over here."

The smuggler turned toward her voice, looking no older than his early thirties. Xie Feng didn't have the time to scrutinize his appearance. She quickly asked, "Can we talk in the back room?"

The smuggler gestured for her to follow and, as if he'd done this many times before, led the way into the back of the shop.

Xie Feng followed closely, watching his posture as he walked, and finally relaxed. Over the past two years, she had escaped from security officers and military police countless times. She had learned how to spot their type—even when they weren't in uniform, they had a certain air about them. As one of her street friends put it, "Even in the middle of a crowded night market, they never bother watching where they're going."

This smuggler seemed like just an ordinary civilian.

Xie Feng glanced back at the shop's entrance and saw that the fat man had already made his way to the side of the door. He was scanning the street across from the shop. In a panic, she quickly jogged after the smuggler and followed him through a small wooden door.

He reached out to turn on the light and shut the door behind Xie Feng with a thud.

The room was cramped, likely a place where the shop owner took naps. There was a narrow bed against the wall, and with the table and chairs taking up space, there was barely any room to stand. The only unusual feature was another door at the back of the room, though it was unclear where it led.

Under the light, Xie Feng finally got a good look at the smuggler. He wasn't bad-looking—considering how low the standards often were for men's appearances, as long as they looked tidy and clean, they were already above average. He would probably be considered attractive to the opposite sex.

"Who referred you?" the smuggler asked casually as he sat down on the shop owner's bed. The bed's presence made Xie Feng feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Chen Qingqing."

She had no idea who Chen Qingqing was. The friends in her group chat had said that without a referral, the smuggler wouldn't take you seriously, so they had advised using Chen Qingqing's name. She seemed to be a friend of a friend. The group had hundreds of members, all young people drifting around the streets, and Xie Feng didn't know them all.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one." Xie Feng deliberately added a year and a half to her age.

The smuggler seemed satisfied, nodding as he looked her up and down, his gaze moving from her feet to her legs, then up to her chest and face, before settling back on her legs. "Your family's okay with this?"

"They are."

"Hmm, smart decision to leave." The smuggler smiled. "I'm from the empire myself, and I've seen plenty of women who've married into the empire. A lot of them can't adjust and regret it like crazy. Let me give you the basics—you'll be traveling with a cargo ship. The trip takes about three weeks, and there are a few destinations to choose from..."

What he said matched the information circulating in the group chat, and Xie Feng started to relax. The price was even lower than she'd expected. If she sold the things she'd stored away, she could probably scrape together enough for a ticket.

She had been determined to leave, but now, standing on the verge of actually going, Xie Feng found herself hesitating, searching for reasons to stay: What about her parents? Even though they had told her to consider herself disowned, how could she leave without any guilt? Once she left, it might be for good... Maybe the shop owner had a point—life would be the same for ordinary people no matter who was in charge...

As she kept overthinking and hesitating to hand over the deposit, the smuggler grew impatient. "Why don't you come back when you've made up your mind?" he said, pulling out his phone and glancing at it.

It looked like he had received a message. He glanced at Xie Feng—who noticed his look and kept her eyes fixed on the table, pretending to still be deep in thought—before unlocking his phone and tapping out a reply.

Xie Feng instinctively didn't turn her head but quickly caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye.

The room was small, so they weren't far apart. She was standing, and the smuggler was sitting, so she had a clear view of most of his phone screen. Though she couldn't make out the full message, the first two characters of the private message stood out clearly in her view.

Even from an awkward angle, she immediately recognized those two characters.

"Sister Chen."

There was likely a comma following them, as there was a small space after the name.

The person on the other end had called him "Sister Chen."

Xie Feng stood frozen, as if still deliberating, but her mind was now racing with just one increasingly loud thought.

Could the smuggler himself be "Chen Qingqing"?

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