Chapter 29: A Bizarre Space (Part II)

Jiang Hui did not like working in the study. She treated it more as a dedicated storage room for her collection, so the vast majority of the ten-square-meter space was occupied by bookshelves. Only a small desk was placed by the window for her reading. Outside that window, there was currently nothing but pitch-black darkness.

However, Jiang Hui did not notice any of this. Her mind was occupied by a single, devastating thought: where had all the books she collected vanished to?

The nine bookshelves of various sizes in the room were completely empty. They were cleaner than when she had first bought them—at least back then, there might have been an instruction manual tucked inside.

Jiang Hui’s brain went numb. Where were her books?

Even seeing it with her own eyes, she found it hard to believe. She walked over to the shelves, examining them carefully, only to confirm that every single book was gone. The only thing left was the calendar hanging by the window.

A surge of frustration rushed to her head, leaving her feeling dazed and breathless. The shock of this moment was far greater than the realization that she had returned to this place.

When she walked out of the study, her steps felt light, almost floating. As she drifted back to the living room, Jiang Hui felt a profound sense of emptiness; it was as if all her life’s convictions had collapsed.

Looking at the mutated computer in the living room, its screen still displaying the results from the interstellar test tube experiment she had just conducted, a sudden idea struck her. If she focused her mind, would the books come clattering back? Perhaps they were missing simply because she hadn't thought of them.

She decided to try.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be a failure. Jiang Hui tried focusing in many ways—visualizing "the books in the library," "the vast array of books," or recalling the general order and categories of the shelves—but the computer screen showed no reaction at all.

However, the moment she casually thought of a vase that used to sit on the desk in the study, it appeared in the room with a soft "thud."

This convinced Jiang Hui that the books could be retrieved; perhaps her will simply wasn't strong enough. She tried for a while longer, but to no avail. Not a single book, not even a cover, appeared. Jiang Hui felt deeply discouraged; she had hoped to reclaim her precious library in an instant.

Wait... perhaps her method was wrong. She couldn't rush it; maybe she needed to be specific and visualize them one by one.

Let her think about what books were in her collection.

Sigh. Jiang Hui was naturally carefree. She usually focused only on results and rarely paid attention to the fine details. When it came to reading, she never looked for recommendations; she chose books randomly, buying whatever caught her eye. If she liked a book, she would set it aside to keep.

But she rarely made an effort to remember titles unless it was a book she had read so many times the pages were worn thin. Most of the time, she just skimmed through them and kept a vague impression.

Now, she was in a predicament. If she had to single out one book, she truly couldn't think of any at the moment. Since she didn't memorize titles, how could she possibly remember the appearance, color, or layout of the books? A major problem emerged: she barely remembered the titles, and for the few she was certain of, she couldn't recall the colors or patterns... She suddenly felt that this task was incredibly difficult.

It was hard enough for one book, and even if she could manifest them, she couldn't possibly recall every single one! She was just a reader, not someone with a photographic memory.

The burning fire in Jiang Hui’s heart seemed to flicker and die out. What was the point of all this? It felt like an impossible task.

Finally, she rummaged through her memories and pulled out a book from long ago. Honestly, she hadn't expected the deepest memory she held to be this particular book. It was truly a case of "you never know until you experience it."

She repeated the "manifestation" process. This time, the computer responded immediately.

After spending some time, she succeeded. Jiang Hui returned to the study and saw a familiar book resting on the most remote shelf. So, it really did have to be done one by one?

She took down the pristine book, her feelings complex. Except for its condition, which was brand new rather than aged, it was exactly as she remembered.

Strictly speaking, she hadn't bought this book herself; it was an enlightenment book her mother had bought for her when she was a child. It had been by her side longer than this house had existed.

She wasn't particularly fond of it, but back then, resources were scarce. Even a small book was a rare treasure, and she had read it countless times. Every little story and illustration inside was etched into her mind.

She still remembered the goofy, magically silly donkey on the cover, paired with the "Little Stories, Big Lessons" title—which, in hindsight, wasn't very convincing.

However, seeing it now evoked a sense of melancholy. She looked at the donkey’s face, couldn't resist flicking it with her index finger, and opened the book to admire the contents she hadn't seen in years... Huh? What was this?!

Jiang Hui was stunned. She frantically flipped through a dozen pages, but they were all blank.

She refused to believe it. She flipped through the rest like a picture book, only to find that every page was blank. It was a completely empty book—except for the cover.

The girl’s expression went blank, her hand holding the book dropping involuntarily. What was this? Could it be...

Clutching the book, she dashed out of the living room toward the mutated computer.

She opened to the blank title page, focused on the layout of the title as she remembered it, and in the next moment, a line of text appeared on the page, just as she had imagined.

The computer screen updated again, showing a fourth line.

This time, she didn't try to decipher the garbled code. She slumped into the executive chair, feeling dejected.

So, it really was necessary to manifest it page by page to restore it; otherwise, she would only get an empty shell.

Just like this book—if she only thought of the concept of a "book," nothing would appear. But when she manifested a specific book she remembered, it worked, yet only to the extent of her memory. Anything she didn't think of, like the content within the pages, would naturally remain absent.

What kind of power was this? It wasn't a space where thoughts became reality; it was more like a creation space, and an incredibly exhausting one at that.

It sounded impressive, but the problem was that this thing was completely useless in Jiang Hui’s hands. She didn't even know where she was, why she was here, or how to escape this strange predicament.

What was she supposed to do with this? Was she expected to build a new world here and play the part of a creator god?