AYLS – Chapter 1 Want to Play a Game?

A major scandal broke out in the Lin family of Yun City.

According to a distant nephew of the Yun family’s long-time butler, Mr. Lin Dajin, Chairman of Linbao Real Estate Group, had an illegitimate child.

And now, the Lin family was in complete chaos, fighting fiercely over inheritance rights.

The main victim of this storm, Miss Lin Qiao, the precious daughter of the Linbao Real Estate Group, had gone through every possible way of protesting in the past few days—crying, throwing tantrums, even threatening to hang herself. But Lin Dajin avoided seeing her altogether, proving he had firmly decided to abandon his once-beloved daughter.

Rumors spread wildly outside, the gossip heating up everywhere. Lin Qiao, however, hadn’t stepped out of her house. She locked herself in her room, smashing everything inside, bawling until her eyes were swollen.

Three days were enough for her to understand one thing: her father wasn’t bluffing this time.

Lin Dajin had truly betrayed her late mother by fathering an illegitimate child. Worse still, he intended to hand over the entire Lin family estate to that child. He even said that after his death, the illegitimate son would definitely drive Lin Qiao out, leaving her homeless on the streets.

The thought made Lin Qiao feel both wronged and terrified.

Her own father didn’t want her anymore, and in the future she would be bullied by an illegitimate half-brother. She was really turning into an unwanted, pitiful little cabbage.

“No. I can’t give up. Whether for myself or for my mother, I must not surrender!”

Lin Qiao wiped away her tears and sat up from the bed. Her swollen eyes now burned with determination.

Her mother had once stood by Lin Dajin, starting from nothing. She worked herself to exhaustion, without proper rest or nutrition, and eventually passed away from illness when Lin Qiao was just five years old.

Her mother had poured her heart and soul into building this family. There was no way she could let an illegitimate son snatch it away.

And if her beloved grandparents, who had cherished her since birth, knew she had fallen to the streets, how devastated would they be?

Thinking of her grandparents who always spoiled her, Lin Qiao’s heart ached even more. If they were still alive, her father would never dare to treat her this way.

Her grandparents always said: “A person must have a conscience. Qiao Hong sacrificed for this family, so Lin Qiao must never be wronged. The entire Lin family will be hers in the future.”

They never let her suffer even the slightest bit. Even her elementary school homework was done by tutors hired by her grandparents.

Those doting grandparents could never have imagined that today, their granddaughter would have to go back to studying, all for the sake of fighting for her inheritance.

Lin Qiao picked up a stack of books from her desk—business management texts her father had once bought for her.

They were still brand-new.

She tried to read, flipping through a few pages, but couldn’t absorb a thing. It felt like a swarm of tadpoles wriggling in her brain—nonsense, incomprehensible.

Frustrated, she jumped out of bed in her pink lace nightdress, her chestnut curls a complete mess from tugging at them.

“What do I do, what do I do?”

Crying out in exasperation, her eyes fell on her phone lying on the bed. Suddenly she remembered her circle of so-called friends—most of whom also came from families with illegitimate children scandals of their own.

She quickly leapt back on the bed, turned on her phone that had been shut off for days.

The moment it powered on, it buzzed non-stop with WeChat notifications.

As expected, they were all “concerned” messages from her friends.

Of course they were curious. Lin Qiao had always been the envy of everyone. In other families, fighting over inheritance was common, but she had always been the sole heiress of the Lin family. Pampered and worry-free, she lived a carefree life.

Now, with this scandal erupting, her so-called friends swarmed like flies, eager for details.

Snorting at their fake sympathy and sarcastic tones, Lin Qiao blocked a few and instead opened her best-friends group chat.

Sure enough, there were already discussions about the incident. Fortunately, the comments were still somewhat normal.

Bestie A: “Why hasn’t Linbao shown up yet? Don’t tell me she did something stupid?”

Bestie B: “No way. With her carefree nature, it’d already be a miracle if she didn’t drive someone else crazy first.”

Bestie A: “That old man is too much. He spoiled Linbao until she was useless, and now he despises her.”

Lin Qiao: “…”

The conversation continued with everyone leaving messages. Since she hadn’t shown up, they had moved from gossiping to giving her strategies on how to deal with the illegitimate son.

Bestie C: “While the old man’s still alive, and Lin Bao still has that good-looking face, she should quickly find a husband from an equally wealthy family. Wouldn’t that make her a rich housewife again? Then while she’s still young, she should hurry up and give birth to an heir. Inheriting someone else’s billions—what’s not to love?”

Bestie D: “Forget it. With Lin Bao’s brains, she’ll probably lose her spot to a mistress in no time. At least her biological dad is more reliable than any random man. If she stirs up enough trouble, maybe she’ll get a slice of the inheritance. Later on, even if her husband takes a mistress, she’ll still have some leverage. And her child will have the capital to fight against the mistress’s child.”

Bestie A: “But honestly, could Lin Bao’s child even win against the mistress’s kid? This is just an endless cycle.”

“……”

“……”

“……”

The group chat went silent with ellipses.

Lin Qiao: “……!!!”

She was so furious she almost quit the group chat. Luckily, another message popped up.

Bestie E: “Stop talking nonsense. Let’s be serious. I actually think Lin Bao should still try to fight for it. Uncle Lin does have feelings for her—he’s pampered her for so many years. Besides, public opinion matters a lot to listed companies these days. If we rally some online support, her chances would improve a lot.”

The group once again started chirping away.

In the end, they all unanimously agreed—Lin Qiao should go on Metamorphosis (the reality show).

That way, the old man would see Lin Qiao struggling, feel distressed, and maybe soften toward her. Meanwhile, Lin Qiao could put on a good performance online, winning public sympathy. Her friends could even hire some paid posters to sell her sob story. That way, even if the old man wanted to favor the illegitimate son, the shareholders might not agree.

With these “brilliant strategies” from her so-called military advisors, Lin Qiao suddenly felt as if her meridians had been cleared—her mind was sharp and determined.

This idea was brilliant!

She quickly opened her computer to look up information about Metamorphosis, and then searched for a contact.

In the past, her life assistant handled these things—she never had to worry. But Lin Qiao had grown a little smarter; she knew she couldn’t alert the snake by rustling the grass. She needed to catch them off guard. So she preferred to handle it herself this time.

Sure enough, she quickly found the TV station’s contact info and dialed.

One had to admit, the title of “real estate tycoon’s daughter” was very useful. As soon as they heard it was Lin family’s heiress signing up, they immediately agreed, even saying they would prepare the contract materials right away.

Lin Qiao hadn’t expected them to be so efficient.

Just after she hung up, a private message popped up:

“We noticed you were searching information about Metamorphosis. Do you want to join the show?”

Lin Qiao thought they were just being redundant, but still replied: “Yes.”

Almost instantly after her reply, they sent over the registration link.

The form was simple: just name, ID number, and home address. Seeing how easy it was, Lin Qiao was thrilled. The simpler, the better!

As for the event terms afterward, she didn’t bother reading. She wouldn’t understand them anyway. If there was a problem, she could just have the company’s legal team handle it.

But as it turned out—she never got the chance to call the legal team.

Just as she submitted the form, a beam of light shot out from the computer screen and hit her square in the face.

Her vision went black. She lost consciousness.

June, 1962.

A huge event rocked Yuan’an County.

The once-renowned Song family, who had controlled half the county, suddenly packed up and left. To be precise—they defected.

According to the report by the housekeeper’s youngest son, the Song family had received a letter from abroad before their escape—sent by a branch of the family overseas.

And before that, they had already exchanged secret letters several times.

This was a huge problem.

In such a sensitive time of enemy spies and hidden agents, the county public security bureau immediately launched an investigation. They wanted to see if the Songs had done anything to harm national interests. So they rounded up the servants left behind—well, now they were called “nannies”—and brought them to the bureau for questioning.

In this era, hiring maids was already frowned upon. Everyone was supposed to be equal—how could you have servants?

But the Song family was a special case. During the war against Japan, the old patriarch had served as the county magistrate. Later, when the domestic troops arrived, he wisely opened the city gates, saving the county from destruction.

Because of this, local officials had always given their family preferential treatment. When servants were supposed to be dismissed, they respected their wishes. Those with nowhere to go could stay at the Song estate, receiving wages and leaving whenever they wished. That was why, even now, the Song household still had several old maids and young servant girls.

These maids were soon brought into the bureau for questioning.

Among them sat a bright-eyed, charming little girl.

At first, nobody paid much attention to her. But the veteran officer in charge of the case happened to glance her way, then froze. Scratching his head, he thought: he had seen the Song servants before. With a girl like this, he should’ve remembered. Why did it feel like she had appeared out of nowhere?

But after thinking carefully, he felt maybe he had seen her before—he just hadn’t noticed.

The blurry memory confused even him. Still, once suspicion was raised, she would need special attention during questioning.

After all, even though this young comrade was just as skinny and frail as the others, her whole aura was completely different from the other maids. If she had been raised properly, she could’ve easily passed as a capitalist’s young heiress.

Lin Qiao, meanwhile, had no idea she was being watched so closely. At the moment, she was on the verge of breaking down.

She had been completely scammed.

Tricked by a fat cat calling itself “Game Sprite.”

It had clearly promised her the role of a military officer’s beautiful fiancée—so why had she become a prisoner instead, about to be interrogated by the police?!

And what was with this identity—how did she go from military officer’s fiancée to a runaway capitalist’s servant girl…

She entered the game space, glaring at the big screen and shouting angrily, “Liars! This game is garbage! Not only do you force me to play, but you even trick me!”

Lin Qiao was utterly aggrieved. She had never suffered so much in her life. Yet in just these past few days, she had endured grievances enough to last a lifetime.

Her father’s betrayal, the pressure from the sudden appearance of an illegitimate child… and now, even some dogsh*t game from who-knows-which star system was bullying her.

That’s right—what Lin Qiao had filled out earlier wasn’t the application form from the reality show Metamorphosis. It was sent to her by this so-called “Interstellar Bitter-Sweet Metamorphosis Game Sprite.”

The moment she submitted it, she lost consciousness. When she woke up, she found herself in a hundred-square-meter space. The place was empty except for a giant screen—and on the screen sat a fat cat.

At first, she had been terrified, thinking she’d encountered some supernatural event.

Only after realizing it was still within the scope of technology did she calm down. But although Lin Qiao was careless and lighthearted by nature, she wasn’t stupid. She knew better than to mess with something this unknown.

So, right then and there, she asked to quit, insisting it was all a misunderstanding.

But the fat cat told her that quitting the game meant failing the game, and failing meant being erased.

The rotten game developer who designed this wasn’t even human—he was anti-interstellar, full of hatred toward the wealthy who lived off others’ labor. Out of spite, he created this inhumane game.

He tricked some interstellar rich kids into participating, then tortured them in-game… and when they couldn’t bear it anymore, erased them.

The Interstellar Federation found out, arrested the scumbag developer, and destroyed all traces of the game’s code from the network.

But somehow, one fragment slipped through the cracks, and it even made its way to Earth. It hid in the internet, searching for keywords, luring people to play. Because only when someone joined could it absorb energy and survive.

Before encountering Lin Qiao, it had already sent messages to many people.

But those people either had no interest in Metamorphosis or simply dismissed it as spam.

Only Lin Qiao responded seriously—and even filled out the form.

Lin Qiao: “……”

Perhaps to appease her, the sprite promised that if she cleared the game, it would help her secure her inheritance rights. Then, it offered her three character choices, urging her to finish quickly so they could part ways peacefully.

1. Third-generation poor farmer, a true-blue peasant girl — toil on the vast rural fields and become a model worker of the era.
2. Factory line female worker — embody the iron spirit of “fearing neither hardship nor fatigue,” and become the role model celebrated in the newspapers.
3. Fiancée of a tall, handsome military officer — in this passionate era, become one half of an enviable pair of revolutionary comrades, perfectly aligned in thought and spirit.

What else could Lin Qiao choose? Farming? She couldn’t.

Factory work? Too exhausting!

Of course she “had no choice” but to pick the romantic path of being a military officer’s fiancée.

This, at least, she had experience in.

Her father—yes, that Lin Dajin—had always been strict, forbidding her from casually dating. So, she secretly formed bonds in games, getting married online, doing couple quests… it was easy.

All she had to do was fall in love and get married, and she could return.

And with the sprite’s help, her chances of winning the inheritance were very high.

So, after selecting her role, Lin Qiao felt full of confidence.

But who knew? The moment she was transported into the game, she realized she had been tricked.

Before she could even marvel at how lifelike the game world was—just like reality itself—she was dumbfounded as someone dragged her straight to the police station.

“Liar, liar! You said I’d be a military officer’s fiancée! Why am I now some maid under investigation? And what is this place? Nothing looks right. Everyone’s clothes are ragged, even the police uniforms are patched up. And this police station is shabbier than the dorms of our security guards back home!”

On the screen, the fat cat covered its face with a paw, then righteously declared, “When the game started, the background setting was shown to you. You just didn’t look.”

Lin Qiao froze, her flushed face stiffening. She pressed her lips together, “Fine… I’ll look now.”

Surely there had to be a loophole somewhere.

Once she found one, she would make the sprite compensate her. Even if she couldn’t quit immediately, it had to give her some perks.

There had to be hidden rewards in the game—she refused to believe otherwise.

The big screen soon displayed the background setting.

The game was set in the early 1960s of Xinhua Nation.

Famine. Low productivity. The entire country’s people struggling just to fill their stomachs.

Lin Qiao: “…… The sixties… wasn’t that the era when my grandparents were born?”

She thought back—yes, her grandparents had once mentioned how hard life was then. Her grandmother had married her grandfather for just half a sack of sweet potatoes, forever altering the Lin family’s genetics, producing a beautiful granddaughter like her.

Lin Qiao scratched her hair, nearly breaking down.

She had imagined something like TV dramas—wearing a cheongsam or Western dress, going on movie dates with her dashing fiancé in a military uniform.

But reality was completely different from what she expected.

Perhaps seeing her collapse, fearing she might not withstand the blow, the fat cat quickly tried to comfort her. “Alright, alright, I’ll compensate you. Let me show you the beginner village introduction.”

Lin Qiao wiped away imaginary tears. “Hurry up!”

This time, she would pay close attention.

《Beginner Village Game Guide》

“After your father’s death, your mother returned to Linjia Village with young Lin Qiao. When Lin Qiao was five, her mother passed away from illness.

She was then adopted by her great-uncle. But because of his old age and inability to provide, plus pressure from his son and daughter-in-law, it was finally decided to pull strings and send Lin Qiao to work for a wealthy household…

At eighteen, that household suddenly fled abroad due to special circumstances. Homeless, Lin Qiao was sent back to Linjia Village.

Her ailing great-uncle, bedridden, handed her her mother’s keepsakes and last words, telling her she had a fiancé. From then on, Lin Qiao embarked on her journey to find him.

Beginner Village Quest — Find your lost fiancé.”

Lin Qiao: “…I’m not doing it! Why not just throw me straight in there?”

The chubby cat spread its paws. “Come on, even though this is a game, it still has to make sense logically. If someone with an unclear identity suddenly appeared, that wouldn’t make any sense. So you must have a real identity. The one you’re using now has always existed in the game. Up until now, it was just the program running it automatically. So don’t worry, just use it.”

The chubby cat popped another lollipop into its mouth. “Also, you need to quickly get familiar with the rules of this game world… basically what you’d understand as laws and regulations. The NPCs here will act in a logical way—for example, they might suspect your identity and arrest you. If that happens and you can’t complete your tasks, you’ll just fail the game. Game over.”

Lin Qiao shivered, then stiffened her neck and said, “If it’s game over, it’s the two of us together.”

The chubby cat froze mid-lick. “That’s right, it’s the two of us. So you need to work hard.”

Lin Qiao complained, “Why is it only me working hard? This is obviously both our problem. You must give me some help. Like… like supplies.”

The chubby cat spread its paws helplessly. “I don’t have anything. Nothing at all. Do you really think those anti-interstellar bastard planners would give you any supply assistance?”

Lin Qiao frowned, wondering whether that was true or not.

Before she could figure it out, she felt someone patting her arm. She instantly exited the game space and regained consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, she was still a little dazed.

Once she saw clearly, she was so startled she instinctively leaned back.

It turned out the police officer in charge of questioning her was already right in front of her, looking at her with a stern gaze.

This game’s NPCs were far too realistic—the sharpness in his eyes made Lin Qiao feel like this wasn’t a game at all.

Seeing that she was awake, the stern old officer forced out a kindly smile. “You can still sleep here?”

Lin Qiao: “I haven’t had a proper rest in ages.”

Three whole days!

The old officer’s smile softened a little. “Comrade, don’t be afraid. This is just a simple questioning process. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Lin Qiao nodded.

Then she asked the chubby cat in her head, “What do I do?”

The cat: “…Stay calm. At a critical moment, I can give you a little help.”

Lin Qiao finally relaxed a bit. At least the fat cat probably wouldn’t trick her again—otherwise, they’d both be finished.

The old officer led Lin Qiao into the interrogation room next door. The two of them sat face to face.

Another middle-aged policewoman poured her a glass of water.

Lin Qiao picked it up and took a sip, marveling in her heart—it was just like drinking water in real life. She could even feel the warmth flow into her stomach.

The old officer opened his notebook and pulled out a pen. “Ahem, you’re Comrade Lin Xiao Qiao, right?”

Lin Qiao quickly realized that this was her current name, and nodded. “Mm.”

“According to people from the old Song family residence, you were sold to the Song family at a young age and lived alongside their young miss, Song Wenwen.”

Since there was suspicion involved, the officer had specifically asked around about Lin Qiao’s background.

The information he received was consistent. Such a person did exist, but because she was always taking care of the young miss, she had very little contact with others.

“Can you tell us what kind of work you usually did?”

How would Lin Qiao know? She only had the general outline, no details! Testing the waters, she said, “Accompanying her in studies, in play… in meals.” That’s basically what an assistant did.

The old officer: “…”

He thought it over. Probably something like a study companion or servant from the old days.

That Song family was really particular.

Still, the child was fortunate enough to get a relatively good job. “So that means you must have had a close relationship with the Song family, right?”

Before Lin Qiao could answer, an alarm sounded in her mind: Trap! Trap! Be careful! Distance yourself immediately!

Lin Qiao: “…”

What do I do, what do I do?

At that moment, a sorrowful melody played in her head, a slow voice singing: ‘Little cabbage… growing yellow in the field…’

As she listened, Lin Qiao’s eyes grew red. This was practically her life story—losing her mother young, despised by her father growing up.

“No one’s ever treated me well,” Lin Qiao choked out, tears streaming down her face.

The old officer and the policewoman beside him were stunned.

Seeing her tear-reddened eyes, they couldn’t help but feel moved.

Lin Xiao Qiao was an orphan, sold to the Song family from childhood. Truly a pitiful life.

As Lin Qiao’s emotions swelled, the fat cat fed her another line. With a trembling voice, she said, “We’re just servants. Who’s ever treated me like a real person?”

Combined with her malnourished face, her words tugged at the heartstrings.

The policewoman said, “Captain Gao, this comrade’s household registration is in our county. We can quickly pull her records and find her hometown family.” The implication being that if there was doubt about her identity, it could be verified later.

Captain Gao nodded, then asked, “Before the Song family left, did you notice anything unusual?”

Lin Qiao pouted and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

She wasn’t lying—she really didn’t know.

Though Captain Gao didn’t know about micro-expressions, he was an experienced officer who’d caught spies before.

After observing her for a while and finding no signs of deception, he believed it. This child was just a miserable soul who’d been a servant since childhood.

He didn’t ask further. That part of the questioning was over.

As they left, the policewoman comforted Lin Qiao, telling her she was now free, and that her hometown family would be brought to get her soon. She wouldn’t have to serve anyone anymore.

Lin Qiao asked, “So when can I leave?”

She still had to go look for her relatives.

The policewoman said, “It might take a few days. Some paperwork needs to be processed first.”

In fact, there would still be a final household registration check. Only after confirming there were no issues with these people could they be released.

However, although they were still considered suspects, since there was no evidence, Lin Qiao and the others were instead placed properly in the county’s guesthouse.

To prevent them from passing messages, they were even given single rooms.

Back in her room, Lin Qiao smelled the damp, musty odor and instinctively covered her nose, inwardly marveling at how real everything felt.

The chubby little cat weakly said, “Player, you’d better accept this reality soon. You’re in a real world now.”

Lin Qiao lazily sprawled on the bed. The sheets and quilt were made of coarse fabric, rough to the touch. She shifted uncomfortably a few times before barely adapting. “If I had known, I would’ve brought a history book in here. Maybe it’d come in handy—like leaking future information to the higher-ups or something.” Lin Qiao had read plenty of novels and felt it was a very viable strategy.

“It’s useless even if you brought one. Although this is set in the 1960s of New China, it’s not actual history. It’s a game adapted from a certain novel. Because of the author’s limited knowledge, many historical details don’t match reality. In other words, this is a completely new world. Besides, even if you had a history book, the other side wouldn’t necessarily value someone as useless as you. Player, read more books yourself!”

“Those dog planners are really inhuman. Why didn’t they set a higher entry threshold in the first place?”

Lin Qiao: “…!!!”

She was actually being despised?!