Chapter 3: A New Day on Sui'an Street

Year 2079,
Year 55 of the Revelation Era.

Xu Mingsong’s low spirits were scattered by the wind. Grasping his disheveled bangs, he muttered as he slipped into the bathroom.

The sound of water rushing filled the room. He glanced at the mirror. The boy reflected back had black hair and brown eyes, with well-defined features and a balanced build. He wore a white short-sleeved school uniform top and black long pants. He looked just awake, somewhat listless, a buzzing toothbrush shoved in his mouth, foam from the toothpaste spilling over the corner of his lips.

Brushing his teeth, he thought about the events of last night.

“The future Xu Mingsong” left two contributions.

First, he delivered an unknown inheritance marked “Courier is delivering the package.”

Second, he nagged a lot, pouring out his personal views and forcibly instilled a worldview for this newcomer’s fresh start. Xu Mingsong had never imagined that such a “plot to reverse the grand scheme” would one day fall upon him. But now that it had happened, could he just do nothing and wait to collapse with his 686 points in the dawn darkness after next year’s college entrance exam?

What a joke! That 686 was the fruit of twelve years of hard study. Are you telling me it was all for nothing?!

Putting aside the lighthearted complaints, “future Xu Mingsong” clearly wanted him to change the future, but the intervention was subtle—no time travel with two big wake-up calls, no proxy playing to speedrun the dungeons. Instead, he left “message hints,” slightly lowering the difficulty of some parts while preserving most of the challenge’s flavor, so he would know this was his own life.

The reason behind it all chilled him deeply.

“Catastrophe,” he whispered.

The catastrophe altered human society, imprisoning civilization in a desolate wasteland due to a bizarre event. Xu Mingsong was born in 2062, a true product of the new generation, never having lived through that turbulent era, with no way to uncover the truth of history except snippets gleaned from old Xu or the elderly neighbors’ casual talks.

The old earth wasn’t called a wasteland then. Winter City had no outer or inner city, no walls. Humanity’s footsteps reached every corner of Blue Planet, and technology progressed explosively—a time so magnificent it still inspired awe and nostalgia.

But that was all Xu Mingsong could learn.

His curiosity drove him to explore this history, but the internet held no answers. An invisible hand shrouded the past in mist, spawning countless conspiracy theories. Bored netizens often debated the catastrophe’s truth, seeking to pierce the fog and explain humanity’s turning point. Yet in recent years, those discussions had quieted considerably.

Perhaps they grew tired, or maybe someone opened the door to give a warm welcome.

Now, intelligence conveyed from “future Xu Mingsong” unveiled the veil of truth.

“Monsters.”

Xu Mingsong sighed deeply, wringing a towel to dry his face, murmuring, “It’s kind of like an alien invasion, just like those keyboard warriors guessed…”

Aliens? No, monsters. If they were aliens, would they force people to work only eight hours a day with three small meals like our beloved Commander Wei?

Apparently not.

These creatures were not here for peaceful profits!

Nothing good would come of it if he dwelled on such gloomy thoughts without conclusion. Xu Mingsong left the bathroom feeling lost, when suddenly a thought struck him.

He hurried back to his room, stuffed the “Dead Man’s Revival” card into his pocket, then headed toward the living room.

Old Xu, the high-level corporate slave, was already up early, performing some kind of vigorous martial arts routine. Earlier he had invited his son to join, but the young high schooler, full of youthful arrogance, didn’t understand the hardships of middle age. He dismissed such health exercises like drinking goji berry tea, then turned around to gulp down half a bottle of cola right in front of Old Xu, joking, “Old man, can you still handle some soda?”

“Any more cards left?” Xu Mingsong asked.

“No more,” Old Xu replied, resting after his exercise, his tone heavy. “If you hadn’t asked, it’d be fine. But once you did, it pains me. Those were my prized collections. Nowadays, it’s hard to even find a place to buy some of those cards. How many do you want?”

“Are you really out, or hiding some secretly?”

“I found those cards after rummaging through drawers myself!”

Looks like they're really gone.

Xu Mingsong was deeply disappointed.

After witnessing the “Dead Man’s Revival” card’s extraordinary effect last night and encountering a flying head monster amid the storm, he couldn’t help but covet the cards wielded by these players. Rationally, he knew the cards were probably useless—likely “future Xu Mingsong” was doing the heavy lifting. But wasn’t it just for peace of mind?

Might as well take them; who knows?

Shaking his head in disappointment, he was about to turn away when Old Xu suddenly reached out to stop him.

“Wait!”

“What else?”

“The Yu-Gi-Oh! cards are gone, but there are other precious collections—also cards!”

“Oh? What kind?”

Xu Mingsong perked up.

Old Xu bent down, took out a large box from the cabinet, gently blew off the dust. The cloud of dust made Xu Mingsong cough.

“San Guo Sha,” Old Xu said.

Xu Mingsong took a deep breath, furtively glancing at the old wolf logo embroidered on Old Xu’s waistband.

Hiss, he and Old Xu were on brotherly terms, but if Old Xu ever caught a rebellious child, that kid would probably get hung and whipped.

I haven’t grown yet, but when I do, I’ll change!

Driven by curiosity about the old times, Xu Mingsong sat with Old Xu, opened the box, and glanced inside—wow, such disparity in the general cards! Some generals’ skills were as scant as those of cavemen; others were almost incarnations of Three-Body aliens, with skill descriptions so long they felt like reading comprehension tests!

“I have no problem giving you the cards, but your father has one request.”

“Whenever you play, you must give it a bad review. Otherwise, you’re guilty.”

Old Xu grasped his hand and earnestly advised, “That’s the price.”

Damn, I really don’t get you old folks who love your memes!

Xu Mingsong waved his hand and picked a few weapon cards that looked decent, ready to leave.

After breakfast, as Ms. Yi was about to go out, Xu Mingsong grabbed his schoolbag, preparing to head to school. He trusted “himself” and preferred to keep things quiet—the fewer people who knew, the better. He also didn’t want to drag his parents into these dangerous matters. For now, he’d pretend nothing happened and attend classes as usual, taking the future one step at a time.

His “inheritance” hadn’t even arrived yet.

Lost in thought, Xu Mingsong was suddenly called back by Old Xu.

“Your mom told me about last night.”

“Huh?” Xu Mingsong asked, puzzled. “What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing, just a small matter.”

Old Xu patted his shoulder with a serious tone, looking affectionately at his son who kept calling him “brother.” Their father-son-brother bond ran deep. Then he slipped a few red bills into his hand.

“Transferring money is too risky; your mom might find out. Although these cards are rare in physical stores nowadays... but you’re smart enough. Keep the money safe and make sure to buy good ones. Don’t shortchange the brother.”

Wait!

Old Xu was secretly giving him money?!

“What?!”

The sun must have risen from the west today!

On the way to the bus stop, Xu Mingsong walked most of the way without figuring out what Old Xu wanted him to buy. He scratched his head, but feeling the weight of five hundred yuan in his pocket made him smile, dispelling much of last night’s gloom.

“Never been this rich in my life.”

A brand-new blue bus rolled up by the curb. Striding arrogantly, he boarded his ride.

Being chauffeured is the best!

But as a noble day student, there was no room for error—missing the bus meant running to school and facing the grim fate of the grim-faced security guard at the gate...

Humming a cheerful tune, Xu Mingsong flipped the weapon cards skillfully between his fingers, when suddenly a hand from beside snatched them away. Someone sat down with a thud nearby, and he startled, quickly pulling away.

“Wow, what did you get? Let me see.”

Following closely, a schoolbag pressed against his leg. Mei Qianyu plopped down beside him like a cavalry general, her aura instantly overpowering the shrinking, hunched boy beside her.

“Why are you so scared of me today?”

“It’s caution. Something happened last night. I barely slept and you nearly scared me to death.”

Patting his chest, Xu Mingsong looked at the girl beside him. As usual, she wore the perfect white short-sleeved school uniform of May, unisex school pants, her skin fair, hair tied in a high ponytail, clear eyes, her face still carrying a trace of youthful innocence. In the soft light by her temples, fine fuzz was visible, and when she smiled, a small tiger tooth peeked out.

This girl, she smiled so naturally.

“San Guo Sha?” she exclaimed.

“You actually know it?” he glanced at her.

“I’m not obsessed like you, always talking about grinding and bad reviews. Haven’t you heard the boys in class mention it? Playing a round offline can be pretty fun… I mean, offline.”

She toyed with the “Qinggang Sword” in her hand, effortlessly sliding out the “Green Dragon Crescent Blade,” holding two legendary weapons single-handedly, then crossed her arms and slotted in a “Kirin Bow.” One could only marvel at the girl next door blossoming—strength to move mountains, spirit to overshadow the world.

In the Three Kingdoms era, the least she’d be is a living Lü Bu.

Of course, setting this female Lü Bu aside for now.

Xu Mingsong blinked faintly, staring out the window. Only a handful boarded at the stop, mostly students in white uniforms. His attention was never on the passersby but fixed on the street sign.

Sui’an Street—where he “died.”