The waiters here are all living, breathing humans, unlike other places where payment and drink service are fully automated, not even a humanoid robot in sight.

The steep prices didn’t keep customers away; the bar was packed with young people, the noise relentlessly assaulting the eardrums. William Harper squeezed through the crowd to order a drink, took a sip outside the counter, and was disappointed to find it tasted no better than what you’d get at a cheap bar.

Behind the long counter, five servers were busy, their movements skillful and efficient—almost robotic.

After just one drink, William Harper hurriedly left, returning to the street, silently lamenting the passage of youth. Back in the day, he too had roamed from one entertainment venue to another with friends, blowing a week’s wages in half a night.

He continued bar-hopping, one after another, never more than two drinks at each, staying far from his own neighborhood to avoid running into anyone he knew.

Tonight, he didn’t want to see any acquaintances—maybe he never would again, he thought. He needed to make some quick adjustments; there were people he had to meet, especially those who once looked down on him.

He’d had three relationships, none of which worked out. He often regretted this, but now he could only feel relieved.

“Seeing the news, their expressions must be priceless,” William Harper muttered, downing an extra drink for each ex-girlfriend.

By the time he left the tenth bar, he was drunk, his steps unsteady, his mind drifting down from the clouds just a bit, seriously considering how to use the fortune soon to be his, designing future homes one by one in his head...

Unknowingly, William Harper had wandered deep into the heart of the old city, surrounded by buildings even older than himself. The streets were riddled with puddles, but some of the best little shops were hidden here—great value, and you often ran into interesting people.

It had been a long time since William Harper had come here. Tonight, he wanted to truly relax.

He was a descendant of the Shao family, the heir to a planet. On this, William Harper was certain, convinced that official notice would arrive soon, and then he’d never have such leisure again.

There were far fewer pedestrians in this area; sometimes you’d go dozens of meters before seeing a light. William Harper wasn’t afraid—he knew these streets like the back of his hand, could walk them blindfolded without getting lost.

A group of teenagers approached, maybe seven or eight of them. No matter how drunk he was, William Harper made sure to step aside—packs of teenagers were one of the old city’s three major nuisances, and no one wanted to cross their path.

The teens burst into laughter for no reason. As they passed, one turned and spat on the ground, then shouted, “Hey old man, how do you get to the funeral home?”

The laughter grew louder. William Harper didn’t dare talk back, didn’t even dare look at them, but in his heart he’d already decided: the new planet would never welcome people like this, nor would it be filled with skyscrapers that, years later, would become playgrounds for delinquent youths.

Someone bumped into William Harper, not too hard, not too soft. The person didn’t apologize, just hurried off. He couldn’t see their age or face, nor tell if they were one of the teens.

William Harper leaned against the wall for a while, feeling waves of dizziness. One more drink, then home, he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to move.

Someone ran over and roughly grabbed his right arm.

William Harper lost the last bit of strength he had, slowly sliding down the wall. In the dim light, he saw a somewhat familiar face. He quickly remembered—it was one of the two strangers who’d sat in his shop at dusk.

More footsteps approached. The other stranger appeared, looking clearly surprised.

“It was you!” the newcomer said in a low voice.

“Idiot, how could it be me?” the first one let go, stepped back, and looked in the direction the teens had disappeared.

William Harper felt strange, tried to force a professional smile, but couldn’t manage it. He looked down for a while and finally realized the large dark patch on his clothes was actually blood, though he didn’t feel any pain.

How odd, he thought, and never lifted his head again.

The two strangers exchanged glances, then suddenly bolted in opposite directions. Overhead, the giant spaceship had just faded away, revealing the eighth planet awaiting inheritance. It was much smaller now, but the buildings on it were still clearly visible—even the slow, writhing movement of countless machines could be seen.

Chapter Two: The Farm Boy

He was very handsome, with a slightly punchable look. People want to pinch a cute baby’s cheeks, or ruffle a fluffy animal—supposedly it’s a kind of compensation psychology. He was so good-looking that people felt the urge to punch him just to make up for the gap in their hearts.

The first time Grace BennettMiss Bennett met him, she felt exactly that impulse: to grab that thick, unruly hair and mess it up thoroughly—though of course, she’d be careful not to pull out a single strand.

It was at a large gathering, full of friends of friends, lively and bustling.

Miss Bennett immediately asked her friends about the man’s name and background. She had a strong premonition that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime moment—no matter how it turned out, good or bad, it would change the course of her destiny.