The [Dream Time Travel Card].
Just as its name suggested, it was used to achieve time travel within dreams.
The prerequisite for that was falling asleep first.
However, after experiencing so much, with threats to her life still present within the secret room of this house, how could Xia Qingtian possibly fall asleep normally? Her mind would have to be incredibly resilient.
And her inventory truly had no items related to quick sleep.
In her haste, Xia Qingtian's gaze landed on the nearby water pitcher.
Previously, Kala had intended to use the water from this pitcher to incapacitate her and Mobius.
Her eyes lighting up, Xia Qingtian immediately grabbed the pitcher and poured its contents into a cup.
Looking at the water in the cup, Xia Qingtian took a deep breath, not allowing herself any chance to regret or hesitate. She downed it in one gulp.
Immediately after drinking, Xia Qingtian didn't feel anything. Soon, however, the world before her began to blur, her tongue felt numb, and she felt a sense of lightheadedness.
Xia Qingtian quickly steadied herself against the table and sat on the chair. "I have to say... this thing... actually works pretty well..."
As soon as she finished speaking, Xia Qingtian slumped onto the chair, falling into unconsciousness.
The moment she entered the dream, Xia Qingtian felt as if she were being pulled into some container by a powerful suction force.
The world before her went from complete darkness to a hazy blur, and only then did she perceive light.
Xia Qingtian thought this was probably what the description meant by a third-person perspective.
But why couldn't she see anything from this perspective?
Useless system, can you even do anything?
As Xia Qingtian was thinking this, she faintly heard someone speaking, and then, the entire world opened up.
A much younger Amiya pulled the cloth covering the mirror aside, then turned back and called out in Basque, "Dad, do you need my help?"
"No need," replied a man with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He had a rather exaggerated beard on his chin, and beneath his dark curly hair, one could faintly discern that he possessed a rather handsome face, though it was somewhat unkempt and carried a hint of weariness.
The man squeezed through the doorway carrying a bundle of framed pictures, and instructed, "Amiya, watch your step."
"Okay~"
Despite the man saying no, Amiya still went to help, carrying the heavy art box into the house. Afterwards, father and daughter began tidying up the entire house together.
Soon, the house was cleaned and tidied, bright and orderly.
"Dad, I want to go out for a walk," Amiya said, filled with curiosity about this place.
"Go ahead, just don't go too far," the man, with a cigarette butt in his mouth, expertly assembled an easel and organized his art supplies.
Amiya went out, and the man began painting after he finished tidying.
Amiya returned, and the man was still painting.
Amiya went out again, and the man hadn't woken up yet; he started painting as soon as he did.
Amiya returned, and the man was still painting.
...
The days were ordinary and monotonous, so dull that even Xia Qingtian, sitting cross-legged within the mirror, couldn't help but yawn.
Finally, on a rainy night, the father and daughter had a very unpleasant argument.
Their speech was a bit too fast for Xia Qingtian to fully comprehend.
But... honestly, if she put herself in Amiya's shoes, she wouldn't be able to stand it either.
"Go back to your room!" the man used the typical parental tactic.
"I hate you!" Amiya, speaking against her true feelings, shouted such a phrase and then stomped back to her room.
The man sat alone in his spot, sighed, smoked, and then continued painting.
The turning point occurred the following evening, when a lost traveler knocked on Amiya's door.
"Excuse me, my car broke down and my phone is dead. May I trouble you?" The moment this voice entered the house, Xia Qingtian, sitting in the mirror, immediately perked up.
It was Mrs. Camille's voice.
Mrs. Camille was invited into the house. She wore an off-the-shoulder white floral dress, cinched at the waist with a bohemian-style woven belt that accentuated her figure. Beneath a large sun hat, her petite face was adorned with tea-colored sunglasses.
Amiya poured Mrs. Camille a glass of water and helped her connect her phone charger.
Curious about this beautiful woman she had never met before, Amiya asked, "Where are you from?"
"Paris. I'm here for a trip," Camille said, removing her sunglasses to reveal a bright smile. "You have so many paintings in your house, they're beautiful."
"Thank you, they're all painted by my dad." Amiya chatted with Camille, nodding towards the man behind her.
"May I take a look?" Camille contacted the car rental company and the repair center. Since she had some time to spare, she asked curiously.
"Feel free," Amiya shrugged nonchalantly.
After all, her dad only cared about his paintings. If someone were to empty the house of everything, perhaps he might finally shift his gaze away from those damned paintings for a few seconds.
Camille strolled over to the man and looked at his painting, her eyes full of admiration.
The man painted, and Camille watched quietly, until the man seemed to be troubled by the color of a particular stroke.
Camille then reached out, took the man's brush, dipped it in some bright yellow from his palette, mixed a more vibrant color, and applied it to an excellent spot.
"Wow." The man finally noticed that the person standing beside him was not Amiya.
He was first surprised by Camille's stroke, then by her beauty. After a moment, he flusteredly stood up, almost knocking over the easel.
"Be careful," Camille raised her hand to steady the easel, then said with a smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's fine, no, you are..." the man looked at Camille, somewhat dazed.
"Camille, just call me Camille," Camille extended her hand with a smile.
"Jerome." The man shook Camille's hand. "Just call me Jerome."
After the handshake, a silence fell between them.
"Are you a resident here?" Jerome broke the current silence somewhat clumsily, asking.
"No, I'm driving through for sightseeing," Camille said. "My home is in Paris, and I'm just taking advantage of the holiday to relax."
"Most travelers would probably choose places like Barcelona or Madrid. Not many people come here," Jerome commented.
"I prefer to be a bit more free-spirited, and my nature is to go with the flow. I don't mind getting lost wherever I end up," Camille said with a smile.
Camille then told Jerome about her car. Jerome seemed to know quite a bit about cars and managed to fix Camille's car before the people from the rental company and repair center arrived.
"Wow~" Camille expressed her gratitude multiple times before taking her leave. "I'll probably be staying at a hotel here for the next couple of days. I hope we have a chance to connect again."
"Okay." Jerome replied. Just as Camille was about to get into her car and leave, Jerome seemed to gather his courage and asked, "Um, um, tonight, you're welcome to join us for dinner."
Finally, Jerome couldn't help but add, "Amiya, uh, Amiya said it's okay."