Songhai City.
At 7:30 in the morning, in a dimly lit bedroom, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly jolted awake on his soft bed. Clutching his head, he curled up like a shrimp.
It felt like his skull was splitting apart. Sharp pain pierced his brain like steel needles, his scalp twitching uncontrollably. He was hallucinating—disjointed images flashing through his mind, ears filled with meaningless noise and static.
He knew the old illness had returned.
Shakily, he crawled out of bed, opened the drawer by the nightstand, and, with trembling hands, grabbed a pill bottle. He twisted it open in a rush, poured out five or six blue pills, and swallowed them without a second thought.
Then he collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath, enduring the searing pain.
After ten seconds, the soul-splitting headache began to subside, then gradually faded.
"Phew..." Zhang Yuanqing exhaled deeply, cold sweat soaking his forehead.
He had developed a strange condition back in high school. The symptoms were bizarre—his brain would uncontrollably recall all his past memories, even trivial things he'd long forgotten. He'd absorb external information at a terrifying rate, analyzing it instantly. It felt as if his brain had gained absolute control over his body.
Fortunately, this state never lasted long. His body simply couldn't bear the load and would shut down before long.
Thanks to this "ability," he breezed into Songhai University—one of the top-ranked schools in the country—without breaking a sweat.
He dubbed it "brain overload." He once believed he was evolving into some kind of superhuman, but his body couldn't handle the transformation, causing repeated crashes.
When he told the doctor his theory, the doctor was speechless but deeply disturbed—and suggested he visit the psychiatry department downstairs.
In any case, the hospital couldn't find any cause. Eventually, his mom brought back a special medication from overseas, which kept the symptoms under control. As long as he took it regularly, it wouldn't flare up.
"Must've been last night's lack of sleep. Damn Jiang Yuer—coming into my room in the middle of the night to play games…"
He grumbled, but deep down, he was worried. He knew the meds were starting to lose effectiveness. The condition was worsening.
"Time to increase the dosage..."
Zhang Yuanqing slipped on his cotton slippers and walked to the window, yanking the curtains open.
Sunlight poured in like an invading army, flooding the room.
In April, Songhai basked in spring sunshine. The morning breeze that rushed in was cool and refreshing.
Knock knock!
A knock came at the door, followed by his grandmother's voice:
"Yuanzai, get up!"
"No!" Zhang Yuanqing replied mercilessly. He wanted to go back to sleep.
It was a beautiful weekend morning—what a waste of life not to sleep in.
"I'll give you three minutes. If you're not up, I'll pour water on you."
His grandmother was even more merciless.
"Alright, alright..." Zhang Yuanqing immediately caved.
He knew full well that his hot-tempered grandma would absolutely follow through.
His father had died in a car accident when he was still in elementary school. His strong-willed mother never remarried. Instead, she brought him back to Songhai and left him in the care of his grandparents while she dove head-first into her career, eventually earning the family's respect as a "business queen."
Even after she bought her own place, Zhang Yuanqing refused to move into the big, empty apartment. He preferred staying with his grandparents.
Besides, his mom was always out—early mornings, late nights, frequent business trips. Even on weekends, she usually ordered takeout instead of cooking.
The thing she said to him most often was: "Need money? Just ask."
It sounded great—having a mother who could support him financially without limits.
But he always replied with a grin, "Grandma and Auntie give me enough."
Yes, his aunt.
The one who barged into his room last night to play video games.
Zhang Yuanqing yawned, turned the doorknob, and stepped into the living room.
His grandparents' apartment was about 150 square meters, including shared areas. He remembered it being over 40,000 yuan per square meter when they sold their old place to buy this one.
Six or seven years later, the price had doubled to 110,000 per square meter.
Thankfully, Grandpa had foresight. If they still lived in the old place, Zhang Yuanqing would be stuck sleeping in the living room. After all, he was too old to share a bed with his aunt now.
At the long dining table in the living room, the "culprit" behind his headache was sipping porridge, her pink slippers swaying beneath the table.
She was beautiful—delicate features, a soft round face, and a tear-shaped mole beneath her right eye. Her long wavy hair was messy from sleep, lending her a lazy, seductive charm.
Her name was Jiang Yuer, his aunt, four years older than him.
Seeing him come out, she licked some porridge off her lips and teased:
"Whoa, up this early? That's not like you."
"Your mom's doing."
"Why are you cursing?"
"Just stating facts."
Zhang Yuanqing glanced at her lovely, vibrant face. She looked bright and energetic, not a trace of the late-night gaming session on her.
They say the night punishes the sleep-deprived with dark circles. That rule clearly didn't apply to this woman.
In the kitchen, Grandma poked her head out at the commotion. A moment later, she came out carrying a bowl of porridge.
Her hair was mostly black with streaks of gray. Her sharp eyes hinted at a fiery temper.
Time had taken its toll, but her once-beautiful features were still faintly visible.
Zhang Yuanqing took the bowl, gulped down a mouthful, and asked, "Where's Grandpa?"
"Out for his morning walk," Grandma replied.
His grandpa was a retired criminal investigator. Even in old age, his routine remained strict—bed by 10 PM, up by 6 AM.
Aunt Jiang Yuer giggled. "After breakfast, I'll take you shopping for spring clothes."
Zhang Yuanqing was just about to agree when Grandma shot him a glare sharp enough to kill.
"You step out that door with her, and I'll break your legs."
"Mom, come on," his aunt whined dramatically. "I just want to buy Yuanzai a few new outfits. He's family too, you know~"
Grandma was unimpressed. "You want your legs broken too?"
His aunt pouted and lowered her head to sip her porridge.
Zhang Yuanqing instantly realized what was going on: Grandma had clearly arranged another blind date, and his mischievous aunt wanted him to tag along and mess things up.
It was their usual play. She'd bring him along, and a few minutes into the date, his outgoing nature would take over. He'd charm the guy completely. They'd end up talking about politics, philosophy, even geopolitics—while his aunt just sat there sipping drinks and scrolling on her phone.
The guy would leave thinking he'd demonstrated great insight in front of a beautiful woman, completely satisfied with himself.
Jiang Yuer had always been pretty and sweet, adored by neighbors and relatives. Because of this, Grandma guarded her like a hawk. Since junior high, she wasn't allowed to date or hang out with boys.
And she really didn't—she made it all the way through college without a boyfriend.
But once she turned 25, Grandma got anxious.
I said no early dating, not no dating at all, she thought. A woman only has so many good years!
So Grandma rallied her old friends, gathering eligible bachelors from across the country to set her daughter up.
"Grandma, she clearly doesn't want to date," Zhang Yuanqing said, biting into a bun. "You know forced love never tastes sweet. But hey, maybe you can start setting me up? I'm a ripe, sweet melon."
"Don't push your luck," Grandma snapped. "You're still young. Your university's full of girls—go find one yourself. Try anything else and I'll smack you."
Though she was a southern woman, her temper was anything but gentle.
Even Zhang Yuanqing's tough businesswoman mom never dared talk back to her.
I'm grown, okay? I've been a 'craftsman' for years now... he grumbled inwardly.
After breakfast, under Grandma's stern gaze, Aunt Jiang Yuer returned to her room to change and do her makeup before heading out to her blind date.
She put on a light touch of makeup, making her look even more radiant. A puffy knit sweater, long overcoat, and slim-fit jeans tucked into black Martin boots. Elegant and clean—a forest-core kind of style.
She threw him a knowing wink, grabbed her purse, and sashayed out the door.
"Mom, I'm off to my date~"
Zhang Yuanqing went back to his room, changed into a black T-shirt, windbreaker, and running shoes.
After a few minutes, he opened his door.
Grandma was sweeping in the living room. When she saw him, she paused and stared.
Zhang Yuanqing mimicked his aunt's tone:
"Mom, I'm off to my date too~"
"Get back here," Grandma said coldly, raising her broom. "One more step and I'm breaking your legs."
"Got it!" Zhang Yuanqing obediently turned back into his room.
He sat at his desk and sent a message to his aunt:
"Like a hero fallen before the battle, tears wet my robe..."
Ding!
A reply came quickly.
"Speak human."
She was probably driving, so her response was short and sharp.
"Grandma stopped me at the gate. You'll have to go solo."
A voice message came through.
He tapped it. Jiang Yuer's voice rang out, full of indignation:
"What use are you?!"
Then she recalled the message and sent another. This one was sugary sweet:
"Come on, darling nephew~ Auntie loves you the most. Mua~"
Tch. Women.
Think you can lure me with a pout and a kiss? At least send a red packet first.
Just then, the intercom buzzed. A shrill ringtone.
Zhang Yuanqing walked into the living room and, under Grandma's watchful gaze, pressed the intercom button.
"Who is it?"
"Delivery."
He pressed the unlock button. Two or three minutes later, the elevator dinged. A deliveryman in uniform stepped out, holding a package.
"Are you Zhang Yuanqing?"
"That's me."
Weird... I didn't order anything. He accepted the package, checked the label—no sender listed, but the return address was in Hangzhou, Jiangnan Province.
Back in his room, he pulled a box cutter from his desk drawer and opened the package.
Inside were two items: a black card wrapped in bubble protection, and a yellow envelope.
The card was the size of an ID, black, and seemingly metallic—but warm to the touch. It was exquisitely made, with silver cloud patterns along the edge and a black moon in the center.
The moon was incredibly detailed, with visible craters and irregular patches.
What is this...?
Still puzzled, he opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter:
"Yuanzai,
I came across something truly fascinating. At first, I thought it would change my life. But it turns out I couldn't handle it.
I believe you can.
Consider this my gift to you, brother.
—Lei Yibing"