Chapter 001

It was a summer afternoon, sweltering with heat. The cicadas buzzed incessantly, their shrill cries filling the air.

In this kind of weather, no one wanted to step foot outside. The roads were deserted, and even the birds had retreated into the deep shade of the leafy trees. Lu Jianxing, wearing a hat and a mask, entered a small convenience store fully covered.

Behind the counter, an old man in a loose-fitting tank top glanced up at him. His gaze lingered for a moment on Lu Jianxing’s attire, which was completely out of place for the summer heat, before his attention was quickly drawn back to the television nearby.

The TV was playing a popular time-travel drama from a while back. Besides the old man, there was a little boy sitting upright on a small stool in front of the set, his clear black-and-white eyes fixed on the screen without blinking.

Lu Jianxing shot him a quick glance. The boy was wearing a strange little Taoist Robe. It was tattered, covered in patches and dirt, yet his small face was clean and fair. His eyes were large and dark with long lashes, and his focused expression was quite adorable.

Perhaps he was a child actor from a nearby film crew.

Lu Jianxing grabbed a bottle of ice water from the freezer and heard the boy ask, “How did she get to ancient times all of a sudden?”

The old man replied, “Time travel. Don’t you know about time travel? Just like that, whoosh, and the person is back in the past.”

“How do you time travel?” the boy asked.

“Didn’t the TV just say? The alignment of the seven stars¹, a celestial phenomenon.”

The boy lowered his head in thought for a moment, looking troubled. “But there is nothing wrong with the celestial signs lately.”

“Oh? You know about that too?”

“I do,” the boy said. “I know a lot of things.”

The old man chuckled, waving his cattail leaf fan as he continued watching TV.

Lu Jianxing brought the water to the counter. The old man glanced at it. “Two yuan.”

He took out his phone and scanned the QR code on the counter. A moment later, an electronic female voice announced, “Alipay² payment received: two yuan.”

The sudden announcement made the child sit up straight. He looked around blankly, eyes wide, but couldn’t find the source of the sound. Finally, his gaze met Lu Jianxing’s.

The boy’s eyes were very dark. Perhaps it was the lighting, but Lu Jianxing felt an odd sensation, as if his secrets were being seen through. He quickly looked away, feeling as though any further eye contact would expose his every thought to the light of day.

As he walked out of the shop, he heard the child ask, “Why didn’t he pay?”

“He did pay. He used Alipay to scan the code. Didn’t you hear it?” the old man explained.

“Alipay? What’s that?”

“Mobile payment. Haven’t you ever used a cell phone?”

“No,” the boy said.

…

Lu Jianxing left the store and walked along the road, water in hand.

This was an old residential neighborhood. Urban planning hadn’t reached this area for renewal yet, and most of the residents were elderly. No one recognized him.

Still, he didn’t dare take off his mask.

He walked to the end of the road until he saw a lush expanse of green. At the end was a park, where willow branches swayed by an artificial lake. Winding paths were surrounded by greenery, and the water’s surface shimmered, with the occasional gold or red carp flicking its tail. Usually, many locals would come here for a stroll, but on a midsummer afternoon, even the most beautiful park was deserted.

So, Lu Jianxing sat down on a bench by the lake.

During this time, his phone vibrated several times in his pocket, but he ignored it.

In his other pocket was a small, round medicine bottle. He felt it through the fabric several times. He didn’t take it out until the ice water in his hand had turned lukewarm.

If I do it here, will I scare the people who come for walks in the evening? Lu Jianxing thought hesitantly.

Maybe he should go back… but he didn’t have a home here. If there was a death, it would cause trouble for the hotel. Even if he went home, his apartment was just a rental.

But he was about to commit suicide; did he really need to worry about so much?

Lu Jianxing wanted to die.

Although he hadn’t told anyone, he was actually a bit afraid of pain. Fortunately, he’d suffered from a sleep disorder for a long time, so he had saved up the medication his doctor prescribed. He was an orphan with no family and few friends. As for work, he had received news this morning that the investors had replaced him in his last role. He had no other endorsements. His contract with his agency hadn’t expired yet, and if nothing changed, he would likely be sidelined and forgotten³.

Sitting on the bench, Lu Jianxing went over everything carefully. There was truly nothing left. He had once wanted to get a cat, but since he was often on film sets and couldn’t be there for it, he’d eventually given up on the idea.

Lu Jianxing pulled the medicine bottle out of his pocket. He took a deep breath and was about to open it when a childish voice suddenly came from behind him: “Uncle.” The sudden sound startled him, and the round little bottle slipped from his hand, rolling away.

“Hey!”

Lu Jianxing bent down hurriedly to catch it, but his hand grasped thin air. The bottle clattered down several steps and fell into the water with a splash.

Lu Jianxing: “…”

He stared blankly at the ripples in the water, stunned.

A fluffy head popped up from beside him. “What fell in?”

Lu Jianxing looked down and met a pair of dark, round eyes. The boy in the Taoist Robe blinked and gave him a polite, innocent smile.

It was the strange little boy from the convenience store.

Lu Jianxing looked back at the now-still lake. The bottle had already sunk to the bottom.

Lu Jianxing: “…”

With the interruption, the courage he had managed to muster dissipated. The sunlight reflecting off the lake made him feel a bit dizzy. He quickly took a few steps back, moving away from the dangerous water’s edge.

“Uncle?”

Lu Jianxing instinctively touched the mask on his face. It was still in place. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Is something the matter?”

“Do you still want your bottle?” the child asked.

“Bottle?” Lu Jianxing repeated.

Following the child’s gaze, he saw the mineral water bottle he had left on the bench. The water inside was gone, leaving only an empty plastic bottle.

Lu Jianxing took another look at the child in front of him, only to realize that besides the tattered Taoist robe he was wearing, the boy now held a bag containing several empty plastic bottles.

Was he not a child actor from the film crew, but a little beggar instead?

Lu Jianxing said hesitantly, “I don’t need it anymore.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

The little boy thanked him happily and ran over to put the empty water bottle into his bag. He looked back, saw Lu Jianxing still watching him, and waved his small hand in farewell before continuing along the stone path. Not far away, an elderly woman with graying hair was rummaging through a trash can for plastic bottles. The child emptied all the bottles from his bag into the sack at her feet, then skipped back to the shade of a large tree and sat down cross-legged.

Lu Jianxing couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

Such a tiny boy, with short limbs, a round face, and fair skin; he looked no more than four or five years old, just the age for kindergarten. Lu Jianxing had seen him at the convenience store not long ago, and now here he was, helping an old lady collect plastic bottles.

If he weren’t a child, the coincidence would have made Lu Jianxing suspect he was being followed by an anti-fan⁴.

Where were his parents?

How could any parent feel safe letting such a small child run around outside all by himself?

Lu Jianxing walked slowly toward the shade. The boy was sitting cross-legged on the grass, propping up his chin, looking drowsy. As Lu Jianxing drew closer, he noticed a piece of cardboard placed in front of the child.

The cardboard had been torn from a beverage box, its edges rough. On the dark side, two lines of large characters were written: Ten yuan per Divination, no charge if inaccurate.

Di… Divination?

Translator’s Notes