Chapter One: The Gateway to a Parallel Universe

G City.

Yan Chun Tower. Twenty-five years ago, it was the landmark of G City—a five-story commercial building. In the CEO’s office, saturated by the musty scent of mildew, Qin Xiaomo sat hunched, listening to Yan Su’s lecture.

“A parallel world, where change reigns. Layer upon layer of coexistence, universes side by side. All vibrate, but each on its own frequency…” The old tape recorder spun tirelessly, distorting the melody of “Moon Over the Second Spring.” Yan Su spoke with deep emotion, utterly absorbed.

“Mr. Yan, your shirt looks great today.”

“Oh! You’ve got an eye for style…” Yan Su flashed a mischievous smile, tossing a flirtatious glance. Instantly, he snapped back to seriousness with remarkable speed. “Stop interrupting! I’ve said all this to help you understand the essence of our game. Qin Xiaomo, as an engineer for ‘Cloud Spirit Wonderland,’ can you pay a little more attention? Just answer me!”

“Mr. Yan, I’ve spent two weeks adjusting the male protagonist’s face alone. How much more attentive can I be?” Qin Xiaomo thought of her sleepless nights, exhausting herself to craft a face so handsome that his very arrival would be the pinnacle of beauty, captivating all.

“And you’re proud of that! Let me ask you—level one monsters, fifty wasps must be killed to get the first piece of equipment. Aren’t you worried people will get exhausted?” Yan Su, leader of an international gaming team, recalled registering a new account last night. He’d barely entered the game before being chased offline by fifty wasps, burning with frustration.

“Only when you pay a price do you learn to cherish.” Qin Xiaomo offered a truth of human nature.

“And why didn’t you design a flyswatter? Giving players a stick—what is that supposed to be?! Go, just go and try it yourself!” Yan Su’s voice grew louder, hands on his hips, ready for a street quarrel.

“So how should I fix it?” Qin Xiaomo glanced up, sneaking a look, muttering softly.

“Change it! Five wasps, and give them a flyswatter. Also, the male protagonist is handsome enough already. I’m nearly falling in love with him myself, so what more are you tweaking? Listen, our company’s invested everything this time. Whether we rise or fall depends on this game.” Yan Su’s eyes swept the office, full of longing to make money and move out of this building.

“Mr. Yan, you’ve said this eight hundred times. This time, the game incorporates AI technology. There’s a main questline, but the characters’ stories depend entirely on player choices, each spawning tens of thousands of storylines and endings. By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask—is there an ending where someone dies before the theme song finishes?”

“There is!” Yan Su answered with disdain.

“Who?” Qin Xiaomo’s eyes widened as she leaned forward.

“You! And your fifty wasps!” Yan Su suppressed his anger, continuing in a measured tone. “Jidou started the internal game test yesterday. Hurry up.”

“So soon? Jidou didn’t even mention it to me.”

“Go register an account now and tackle your fifty wasps!” Yan Su rubbed his temples, shot Qin Xiaomo a glare, and waved her away.

“Yes… Mr. Yan.” Qin Xiaomo sheepishly slipped out.

Just then, her phone rang.

“Hello, Jidou.”

“Xiaomo, did you see the news? Do you know why the Mayan prophecy of the world ending in 2012 never happened? Because scientists miscalculated—the real end date is June 21, 2020, which is today.” Qianmo spoke mysteriously.

“Then let it end already!” Qin Xiaomo just wished for an apocalypse so she could finally take a break. As a programmer, she hadn’t had a vacation in two years, and late nights had nearly made her forget her own gender.

“Today really could be the end—it's the summer solstice, the lunar first day of May, and at 2:44 pm there’s a solar eclipse. How can there be so many coincidences?” Sensing Qin Xiaomo’s indifference, she rushed to explain.

“It’s just happenstance.”

“One coincidence is chance, two is fate, three is destiny!” Jidou, competitive as ever.

“So, what should we do—spend all our money?” Qin Xiaomo suddenly remembered that comedy skit—when people are gone, the money isn’t spent.

“Bingo! Today’s Gouzi’s birthday. We’re holding a traditional costume birthday party. You should wear that white chiffon dress embroidered with magnolia petals. I’ll pick you up at three.”

“Not scared of the apocalypse?”

“Seize the day—bye.”

Qin Xiaomo checked the time, just past noon. If she went home now, showered, put on makeup, and registered an account, she’d just make it. She called a cab, where the song “Riddle” played—her favorite. “Nothing forced, like a dream; pale clouds drift across the pale sky, and turning around, I meet you.”

She had never mentioned her dreams to anyone. Often, she saw the same scenes, the same person, recurring night after night without escape or explanation. Later, as she became involved in gaming, she resolved to learn game development and recreate every flower and tree from her dreams. The game she was now rushing to finish was the realization of that vision. So she poured her heart into polishing the male lead, not wanting to squander twenty years of dreaming.

“Just registering an account—what’s so hard about fifty wasps? Hah, I refuse to change it!” Qin Xiaomo opened her computer, using her real name for the account.

She glanced at the clock—2:13 pm. “If I stop to eat, I won’t have time. No, I need to shower now, or I won’t have time for makeup.” She set her character to idle in the beginner’s area, looping “Riddle.” “Nothing forced, like a dream; pale clouds drift across the pale sky, and turning around, I meet you…”

Half an hour later, the scent of orange blossom shower gel filled the apartment. Qin Xiaomo was singing in the bathroom, when suddenly the lights flickered several times. Startled, she clutched her towel and rushed out. “What’s going on—are we losing power? The property manager doesn’t even notify us anymore.”

She changed into the white chiffon dress, applied lipstick in front of the living room mirror, and was nearly finished when the clothing rack beside her bedroom computer crashed loudly. Her nerves frayed, she shouted toward the bedroom, “Who’s there!” Daylight, and someone dared to break in—she grabbed a baseball bat and crept in.

The bedroom had no closets big enough to hide anyone, not even thick curtains—everything was visible, and there was nobody. Impossible! She saw the computer still on, and the rack on its stand still swaying, proof that someone had just touched it. A chill ran down her spine, and she grabbed her phone and dashed out.

“Qin Xiaomo… Qin Xiaomo!” Jidou, driving, turned at a red light to look at the still-shaken Qin Xiaomo, calling her name twice in confusion. She remained spaced out. “Did you see a ghost?”

“Shh, shh, shh! Don’t say that word—I’m scared.” Qin Xiaomo gestured with a finger across her lips.

“So what’s your plan—not going back?”

“Could you move in with me for a while? I have a spare room.” Qin Xiaomo’s eyes were full of frightened plea, like a startled kitten.

Jidou, not a believer in ghosts herself, couldn’t bear to see her so terrified. “Alright, but you have to feed me. I order food every day—you’ll have to cook!”

“Jidou, you’re the best! As long as it’s not dragon meat, I’ll make whatever you want!” Qin Xiaomo had been sent by her father to a five-star hotel kitchen during her high school summer break, and in just one summer, she learned to cook so well that everyone raved about her food.

In her sophomore year, the campus heartthrob pursued her relentlessly. Qin Xiaomo thought it was her charm, but it turned out he’d tasted her competition dishes and couldn’t forget them. Perhaps that’s why they say—to win a man’s heart, you must first win his stomach.