Four days passed quickly. In the cold space, Bai Ci watched the countdown digits finally reach zero, and the familiar wave of dizziness hit her without warning.
The system's teleportation was as silent as ever, with no sense of weightlessness or distortion of light and shadow. In the span of a single breath, her nose was filled with air mixed with coal smoke, damp wood, and a faint musty smell.
Bai Ci opened her eyes. What met her gaze was a wall painted in a dull lead gray, the paint peeling slightly in the corners to reveal the yellowed brickwork underneath.
The walls were a faded light gray, the floor a deep grayish-brown, and the curtains a washed-out linen gray. Even the daylight filtering in through the window seemed to be covered by a layer of gray cloth, gloomy and dim, without a single hint of brightness.
The room's furnishings were simple to the point of austerity: a single iron bed frame, a set of wooden table and chairs, a semi-worn wardrobe standing against the wall, and a leather suitcase in the corner that looked completely out of place with the room's style and class. Other than that, there were no extra decorations.
Bai Ci walked to the window and looked out through the frame. Low red-brick houses crowded close together in a sprawling mass, and the cobblestone road was worn shiny by wheels and footsteps. Carriage wheels rolled through puddles, splashing up rings of muddy water.
In the distance, chimneys spewed gray smoke day and night. A pale black haze drifted slowly over the rooftops, dyeing the sky a murky, stifling yellow.
On the streets, pedestrians hurried past. Some huddled in worn coats with their heads down, others carried tools toward the factories, and children chased each other and played at the street corners, coming together to form a gritty yet lively atmosphere.
Everything was chaotic, yet everything was desperately spinning.
It looked just like the scenes of the Industrial Revolution she had once read about in books.
Bai Ci looked down at her attire. She wore a light beige cotton gown with simple gold embroidery on the cuffs—a style that was minimalist yet elegant.
She reached up to touch her head. Her hair was simply pinned up with a plain pearl hairpin.
Evidently, the system had automatically changed her into clothes that matched the era's background. Fortunately, the ring on her middle finger was still there, its cold touch intact, giving her some reassurance.
Knock, knock, knock—
Just then, a knock suddenly sounded at the door. It wasn't loud or soft, but carried a hint of hesitation, as if the person knocking was repeatedly second-guessing themselves.
Bai Ci paused. She quickly suppressed all the wariness belonging to a player in her eyes, replacing it with a perfect blend of confusion and calm before slowly walking to the door and gently pulling it open.
Standing outside the door was a young man with Western features.
The newcomer looked to be in his early twenties, not particularly tall but solidly built. He wore a dark shirt that was clean but slightly worn, with the sleeves neatly rolled up to his forearms, revealing clean-cut wrists. His soft brown hair was slightly messy, with strands falling over his forehead, partially obscuring his brow bone.
He was about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, with Western features. A mass of curly brown hair fell messily across his forehead, and a few light brown freckles were scattered across his cheeks, making his grayish-blue eyes look exceptionally clear.
The most conspicuous detail was the light brown freckles scattered on both sides of his cheeks. They weren't dense, but rather added a touch of boyishness to his appearance.
However, those eyes were light-colored, and his gaze was cast downward, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. His entire demeanor exuded an obvious introversion and reticence, and even his posture standing at the door was somewhat awkward, his hands seemingly unsure of where to place themselves.
The moment he saw Bai Ci, the man's eyes visibly flickered. He quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing slightly. His lips parted, and only after a long moment did he squeeze out a slightly stiff sentence: "...You're awake?"
Bai Ci didn't speak, only watching him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
The man became even more uncomfortable under her gaze. His eyes quickly swept over her face before instantly dropping back to the floor. His toe lightly scuffed the floorboards before he asked in an almost clumsy tone, "M-Miss Lora, are you... satisfied with this room?"
Bai Ci's mind spun rapidly. The name Lora was one she had personally filled in on her panel, so she adapted to being addressed as such without issue. However, she knew absolutely nothing about her current identity, let alone who the man in front of her was.
However, what she could be sure of was that since her class passive "Cloud Rendezvous" had already triggered, she could vaguely feel a mysterious connection with this man. He was highly likely the male NPC endowed with the "Rain's Message" status.
Suppressing the doubts in her heart, she let a perfectly measured, slightly distant yet gentle smile grace her face. Her tone was flat but polite: "I am very satisfied, thank you. Sorry to trouble you."
With that simple sentence, she managed to gloss things over.
The man clearly hadn't expected her to be so easygoing. He dithered for a moment, then let out a sigh of relief as a shy smile appeared on his face. He nodded. "As long as you're satisfied. I-I won't disturb you then. When dinner is ready, I'll come call you."
With that, he turned and quickly walked down the stairs, his footsteps somewhat flurried, as if he were running away from something.
Bai Ci closed the door and leaned her back against it. She immediately brought up her system panel to check the detailed information on the "Rain's Message" status.
【Rain's Message NPC: Hugo Durom
Appearance: Brown hair, freckles, grayish-blue eyes, introverted and taciturn
Identity: Mail carrier of Withered Wood Post Office in Aether Town
Relationship with Player: Family fiancé. He originally intended to refuse the engagement due to his family's decline, but it was forced through by both sets of parents. Currently cohabiting with Lora Chaos to cultivate their feelings.
Skill Level: Stamina 7, Spirit 8, Agility 9 (mail carrier class bonus), no special skills
Life Status: Healthy (slight fatigue), no signs of plague infection】
As the lines of information were clearly presented before her eyes, Bai Ci's gaze gradually grew clear.
It really was him.
A family engagement, cohabiting to cultivate feelings... This was the rewriting of the instance's initial scene and initial relationship brought about by the "Cloud Rendezvous" passive.
Bai Ci frowned slightly. She had originally thought that even if the passive triggered, her identity would still be "Player Bai Ci," only with an added layer of intimate relationship binding with an NPC.
But looking at it now, the system had directly replaced her identity with "Lora," a character fully integrated into this instance world.
This meant she could no longer observe and act as an "outsider." She had to first play the role of "Lora" well to smoothly gain access to the instance's main quest.
If it were a solo instance, things would be somewhat simpler. The main quest and tasks would usually deliver themselves to her doorstep, as there would inevitably be a strong correlation between her identity and the main quest.
But if it were a multiplayer quest, it would be much more troublesome. To get in touch with the main quest, the first thing she had to do was find other players, deduce the main quest through the tasks of other normal players, and then strive not to let her evaluation fall to last place.
As she continued reading, a piece of information on the Rain's Message panel caught Bai Ci's attention. What did "no signs of plague infection" mean?
Well, she knew now. This instance world had a plague.
Otherwise, under normal circumstances, how could there be such a status note? Things that weren't noted might not necessarily be absent, but things that were noted definitely existed.
The Industrial Revolution and a plague—what a truly wretched pair.
Rate on N.U.
