Winter. A vast stretch of white snow. Two little children in split-crotch pants crouched on the ground.
“Zhou Jingchen, what’s this?”
“It’s my little sparrow.”
“Can I play with your little sparrow?”
“No. Aunt Xiang said I can’t let other people play with it.”
“Hmph~ What’s so special about it? If you won’t let me play, I’ll go play with Fang Haoyu’s. He has a little sparrow too.”
“…Alright then, Wen Xi, I’ll let you play with it. But you’re not allowed to go play with Fang Haoyu’s anymore.”
A piece of news exploded across the globe:
“Planet Aetheria will collide with Earth on the last day of the year. The end of the world is imminent.”
The forum Galaxy Forum, founded by Zhou Jingchen, saw a dramatic surge in discussion threads about the “apocalypse.”
Seizing the momentum, the company’s operations team launched themed marketing campaigns featuring products such as “Doomsday Ark” and “End-of-the-World Boarding Pass” postcard canvas bags. They also held an essay contest titled “If Tomorrow Were the Last Day.”
In less than a week:
Registered users exceeded 6 million
Daily posts reached over one million
Peak concurrent users surpassed 800,000
Galaxy Forum leapt to become the largest Chinese-language internet forum in terms of traffic at the time.
That night at the celebration banquet, after finishing a round of drinks, Zhou Jingchen left the private room alone.
He drove aimlessly through the city, wandering through several districts before eventually parking casually beneath a noisy pedestrian overpass in Jingwei District.
He glanced out the window.
This was the most densely populated and vibrantly gritty old neighborhood of Linjiang City.
Neon lights flashed outside. Hair salons, tobacco and liquor shops, and massage parlors lined both sides of the road. Steam rose from manhole covers. Crowds packed tightly together—some hurrying along, others bargaining with street vendors.
Suddenly, the phone on the passenger seat vibrated.
The ringtone echoed clearly in the enclosed space:
“You have such long eyelashes, blink once and tears fall…
My heart twists like a knife, every time I cannot escape the blame…”
He had set that ringtone years ago. The low male voice was pleasant.
He answered. It was his friend, Lin Xujie.
“Jingchen, I found some leads on the girl you asked me to investigate.”
Zhou Jingchen tightened his grip on the phone.
“She used to study at the Art Academy in Pingjiang City. Dance major. She dropped out before finishing her junior year.”
The man in the car furrowed his brows and straightened up slightly, his voice hoarse.
“Dropped out? Why?”
“No idea. After that, there’s been no news. I asked some of her former classmates—they haven’t seen her either. But…”
The other side paused.
“Someone said a relative once saw her in the ‘Land of Cloud Springs.’”
“The Land of Cloud Springs?”
“Yes. That health resort. The climate there is mild, and the high-temperature sulfur springs are said to have special healing effects. Most people who go there are seriously ill.”
Zhou Jingchen curled his fingers, lowered his eyelashes, and fell silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was even raspier.
“Thank you, Xujie. Please keep looking. I have to find her.”
They exchanged a few more words before hanging up.
A suffocating pressure filled his chest. He rolled down the window; winter air rushed in.
The cold wind hit his face. He took a deep breath—white mist drifting out—but the heaviness remained.
He got out of the car and walked aimlessly, climbing the overpass steps carefully. A thin layer of ice coated the stairs.
Stalls crowded the overpass:
Second-hand mobile phones
Hats and gloves
Roasted sweet potatoes
Sugar-roasted chestnuts
Bootleg DVDs
Dressed in a black overcoat and black leather gloves, Zhou Jingchen was young, handsome, and striking. Many glanced at him as he passed.
Vendors called out:
“Sweet and soft roasted chestnuts!”
“Nokia phones! Almost brand new! Cheap!”
“Cotton socks, stockings, hats, gloves, scarves!”
The cold wind stung his face.
He paused at a roasted sweet potato stall.
“Want one?” the auntie called.
The plump sweet potatoes emitted a fragrant aroma. His deep black eyes flickered with distant memories. He smiled faintly and waved his hand, continuing forward.
Then—
A clear, sweet female voice suddenly rang in his ears:
“Don’t miss it as you pass by! High-definition DVDs! Classic movies! Nostalgic old songs! Japanese blockbusters! Three for ten yuan—pick any!”
The voice carried a familiar sweetness, as though from another lifetime.
Zhou Jingchen froze.
Across from him, a tall, burly man blocked his view of the female vendor. Squatting at the stall with a cigarette between his lips, he asked bluntly,
“Got any discs of Aoi Sora?”
“Yes, yes,” the girl replied.
She pulled out a stack of discs from her backpack and spread them out. The covers were explicit. She skillfully gestured with her fingers.
“Pick what you like. Twenty yuan for seven.”
The moment he heard her voice clearly—
Zhou Jingchen’s eyelashes trembled.
His fingers clenched.
His blood seemed to boil and flow backward.
The man finished selecting and left with a black plastic bag.
The obstruction moved.
And then—
The scene crashed into Zhou Jingchen’s eyes.
The girl wore a white coat and a light blue beret-style knit hat. Two braided pigtails framed her face. A blue scarf circled her neck. She sat on a small stool, head lowered, organizing the discs.
As she stacked them neatly, she continued calling out:
“DVDs, DVDs! High-definition! Japanese blockbusters! Latest movies…”
Her eyelashes were long.
Her fingers were slender and pale.
On the web between her left thumb and index finger was a faint brown mole.
Just one glance—
His breathing stopped.
His heart pounded violently against his ribs.
He swallowed and walked toward her slowly, unable to believe it.
When the girl saw a pair of black leather shoes approach, her lips curved into a practiced smile as she looked up.
“Handsome guy, want some DVDs—”
Her smile froze the instant she saw his familiar yet unfamiliar face.
Wen Xi’s heart clenched violently.
Her fingers tightened around the hem of her coat. Her red lips parted slightly. She looked at him—then quickly lowered her gaze, eyes darting in panic.
Suddenly—
“City inspectors are here! The chengguan are here!”
Chaos erupted.
Without hesitation, Wen Xi gathered the discs at lightning speed, shoved them into her backpack, grabbed her folding stool, and ran.
Zhou Jingchen immediately chased after her, shouting hoarsely:
“Wen Xi!”
Behind them, urban management officers wielded batons, chasing vendors scattering in all directions.
Wen Xi darted down the northeast staircase. Zhou Jingchen followed closely, eyes glued to her through the crowd, afraid she would vanish again.
“Wen Xi! Wen Xi!”
He pushed through people, shouting her name.
She ran faster, like a frightened rabbit.
The distance between them widened. He chased desperately, breath ragged, steps frantic—wishing rockets were strapped to his feet.
Suddenly—
He slipped on a patch of ice.
He crashed heavily to the ground.
“—Hiss!”
A sharp pain shot through his left calf.
“Wen Xi!”
Kneeling on the ice, tears welled in his eyes as he shouted helplessly.
Her figure dissolved into the dense crowd—
And disappeared completely.
Cold winter wind poured into his collar.
Piercing. Bone-chilling.