“Ding ling ling…”
In a room filled with period charm, a futuristic alarm clock stood on the nightstand.
The crisp yet gentle ringtone sounded. Zhang Yuanlin reached out to silence the alarm and woke up, ready to greet the new day.
Sitting on the bed, he glanced at the old calendar on the wall—today was Sunday, the designated public rest day.
“Alright! A rare day off. I’ll take the bike out for a spin and visit a few old friends while I’m at it!”
Well-rested, Zhang Yuanlin swiftly got out of bed. He pointed his hand at the digitally displayed alarm clock and focused his thoughts.
In an instant, the alarm clock vanished, stored away in a mysterious space unique to Zhang Yuanlin.
After all, it was something far ahead of its time. Zhang Yuanlin made sure to put it away every morning to avoid drawing attention.
This wasn’t magic—it was a perk of being a time traveler: a Still World that connected him to the future.
Through this space, Zhang Yuanlin could access various technological products from the 21st century. He could also use computers and libraries to learn anything he desired.
It also included an abundance of delicious food, serving as a crucial resource for satisfying his dietary needs.
As a time traveler from the 21st century, the culinary standards of 1950s Beijing couldn’t possibly meet Zhang Yuanlin’s tastes.
So, what could ease his worries? Only the Still World.
Even his daily toiletries came from the Still World.
After all, he had endless supplies and resources all to himself—enough to last ten thousand years.
After a quick wash, Zhang Yuanlin habitually entered the Still World. With a single thought, he could instantly teleport to a shopping mall, pick whatever he felt like eating, and have it automatically prepared and manifested into the real world—or he could simply eat it right there in the Still World.
In this frozen realm, Zhang Yuanlin was like a god. Whatever he wanted to do, whatever he desired, wherever he wished to go—everything was achievable with just a thought.
Moreover, Zhang Yuanlin could spend up to twenty-four hours here each day, with the time resetting the next day, all without affecting the real world.
In other words, the moment Zhang Yuanlin entered the Still World, time in the real world paused simultaneously. Only when he chose to exit would the real world resume.
Thanks to this Still World, Zhang Yuanlin—who, on the surface, worked as a mechanic at the Steel Rolling Plant—often slipped inside to nap for an hour or two when tired. He’d then grab some drinks and snacks, hide in the storeroom to satisfy his cravings, making work feel as enjoyable as play.
However, the Still World was too quiet—so silent you could hear a pin drop. Staying too long made Zhang Yuanlin feel stifled, so when at home, he preferred to manifest his food and eat while listening to the comings and goings in the courtyard, enjoying the lively atmosphere.
“This morning, I’ll have a deluxe scallion pancake wrap and a bowl of tofu pudding, followed by a cup of hot milk. Perfect!”
Humming a tune, Zhang Yuanlin dug into the delicious meal—a treat unavailable in the courtyard.
Soon, breakfast was finished. With a casual wave, the remnants were cleared away. Any trash left in the Still World would be automatically processed, requiring no effort from Zhang Yuanlin.
Patting his full stomach, Zhang Yuanlin gazed at the empty room and once again drifted into a daze.
“Sigh, how boring. There may be plenty of delicacies in the Still World, from all sorts of countries, but after eating without repetition for two years, I’ve pretty much tried them all. Now I feel like I’ve returned to simplicity. Thinking back to when I first transmigrated, I used to eat abalone, sea cucumber, Wagyu beef, and Australian lobster by the pot, three meals a day.”
“But after two years of indulging like that, I still think Chinese cuisine is the best. The more I think about it, though, the more I feel something’s off—it’s probably not about what I eat. Ah, forget it. I’ll head out. Maybe it’s too stifling to enjoy things all alone behind closed doors, but I can’t exactly leave the door wide open either. Those shameless folks in the courtyard wouldn’t be grateful for it!”
After resting for a while, Zhang Yuanlin stood up, but instead of heading straight out, he picked up a few plates and pretended to wash them at the door for a bit, then did some laundry.
There was no helping it—while he could truly indulge at home, outside, he had to keep up appearances.
Thinking back to when he first transmigrated here, the original host’s life had been downright miserable.
No elders at home, penniless, and buried in debt.
From what he remembered, the original host’s grandfather was a martyr, and his grandmother had raised him. There was no news of his parents’ deaths, but they had been missing since he could remember, with no clue as to their whereabouts.
Originally, with some subsidies from the state and his grandmother earning extra by sewing shoe soles and knitting clothes, the original host had grown up and eventually became a mechanic at the Steel Rolling Plant. Life should have started looking up.
But then, his grandmother went out to the market one day, was gored by a mad cow, and bled heavily. Despite a night of emergency treatment, she couldn’t be saved. Left all alone, the original host couldn’t cope, grew despondent, turned to heavy drinking, and started gambling.
Luckily, the Steel Rolling Plant, considering his family’s martyr status, had tolerated him and not taken away his job. But one time, drunk and during winter, he stumbled and fell into a river, just like that—gone at the age of twenty.
Whenever he thought of this, Zhang Yuanlin couldn’t help but shiver. When he transmigrated, he woke up by that very river, nearly freezing his soul out of his body.
Thankfully, it hadn’t frozen over. If it had, Zhang Yuanlin might have died on the spot.
Plus, with the Still World he’d acquired then, he managed to recover by downing some strong liquor from the mall.
After returning home, Zhang Yuanlin first realized he’d entered the world of a TV drama, then took stock of his household assets—only to find nothing but a mountain of debt.
Fortunately, with the Still World, paying off the debt was a breeze. Just by taking some good stuff to the Black Market, he could make a hefty sum.
But after clearing the debt, Zhang Yuanlin kept a low profile. After all, the “vultures” in the courtyard weren’t easy to deal with, and there was a storm brewing in the future where anyone who stood out would meet a bad end.
So, after enjoying himself at home, Zhang Yuanlin had to put in some effort to act the part in front of the courtyard residents.
Just then, Aunt Xu from the backyard passed by with a basin, saw Zhang Yuanlin washing dishes and clothes, and said cheerfully, “You know, Yuanlin, you’re twenty-two this year, right? A grown man washing dishes and doing laundry at home—you should hurry up and find a wife. Don’t let those three nice rooms of yours go to waste.”
Zhang Yuanlin smiled politely and feigned helplessness, saying, “Ah, I’d like to, but I’ve got no money. There’s no elder at home to help arrange things either. Unless some girl takes a liking to me on her own, it’s not likely to happen.”
Aunt Xu snorted with a laugh and said:
“Hey, you’re even dreaming about it now. Even if you’re handsome, without money you can’t get a wife. Look at you, expecting some girl to come knocking on your door. Do you think wives fall from the sky for free?”
Zhang Yuanlin chuckled along, playing along with the daydream.
“Who knows, maybe there is such a thing. Anyway, in this compound, no one is better-looking than me. That’s my only advantage, especially in the backyard—my face is unbeatable!”
Aunt Xu’s face darkened, thinking of her family’s three long faces. She stomped off angrily with her basin, but her muttering still reached Zhang Yuanlin’s ears.
“Hmph, a drunkard and a gambler wanting to get a wife without spending a penny. What’s the use of being good-looking? Why doesn’t he just become a live-in son-in-law? Then his room would be free for my Damao!”
Xu Damao was eighteen this year. In these times, it wasn’t unusual for people to marry at seventeen or eighteen, so it was no surprise the Xu family had such thoughts.
Zhang Yuanlin knew what kind of people Xu Damao’s parents were. They had even managed to drive away Shazhu’s father, He Daqing. They were thick-skinned and sharp-tongued—not easy to deal with.
As for such people, Zhang Yuanlin couldn’t be bothered to argue. Quarreling with them was either having too much time on your hands or being out of your mind—it would just be wasting your precious life!
“But just because I’m not married, you’re already eyeing my property? Is that even reasonable?”
“Looks like I should get a wife after all. It’s not just about protecting the property—maybe having someone around would make life less boring.”
“But I need to find a wife who won’t cause me trouble, who can take care of the home and be obedient!”
Zhang Yuanlin stared at the clothes in his hands, lost in thought.