Desperate Dawn

------------

001 Confusion I

Late at night.

In the bedroom, a sliver of moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, casting a line onto the floor, becoming the only source of light.

In the grayish-white moonlight, the faint shadows of tiny bugs crawling on the window could be seen.

Woo~

A car from the neighborhood passed by outside the window, its engine humming softly.

The pale headlights shone through the gap in the curtains, drawing a fan-shaped halo on the ceiling, then gradually faded as the car drove away.

Click.

An old cassette was inserted into the player, then the lid was closed, making the sound of a switch snapping shut.

William Thompson frowned as he plugged in his headphones and adjusted the volume. Instantly, a faint stream of music drifted quietly from the headphones into his ears.

The music had no lyrics, just pure classical instrumental, a blend of guzheng and pipa.

The rhythm was gentle and clear.

The sounds of the two instruments were like two slender, sharp threads, sometimes intertwining, sometimes clearly distinct.

It was as if they were telling an ancient story, or like two pale fingers constantly entwining.

William Thompson lay on his side on the pillow, staring at the pitch-black curtains, motionless, listening to the song in his headphones.

The cool pillowcase was gradually warmed by the side of his face, beginning to emit a faint scent of laundry detergent.

He kept his eyes open, as if in a daze, or perhaps deep in thought.

He clearly remembered that twenty minutes ago, he was still halfway up a mountain, climbing. Twenty minutes later, he just happened to spot a patch of beautiful little flowers, then suddenly felt dizzy... and everything changed. He inexplicably switched bodies and came here, to this room. He was also much younger.

After ten minutes of shock, doubt, and disbelief, he began to accept reality.

At this moment, a flood of information and memories was rapidly merging with him in his mind. All of it belonged to another William Thompson with the same name, memories from over twenty years in this world.

The information wasn't complete; much of it was blurry. But it was enough for him to get a basic understanding of his situation.

"Tomorrow, I have a very important friend coming over. You and William Thompson go out for a walk, find something to do, and don't come back until after five in the afternoon, got it?"

A low, young female voice faintly came from outside the bedroom.

William Thompson's train of thought was interrupted, and the name surfaced automatically in his mind—it was Henry Thompson.

This was the older sister of his current body, probably talking to their parents.

"Okay, don't worry, we definitely won't interfere with your plans." Mother Grace Foster replied cautiously.

Father stayed silent, only breathing a bit heavier, which meant he agreed.

"Jiu, about your brother's job... he still hasn't found anything. What do you think..." Mother carefully brought up another matter.

"What's the rush? I haven't stabilized things yet. We'll talk about it later. Just don't cause me any trouble." Henry Thompson said impatiently.

"Don't worry, we definitely won't, definitely won't." Mother Grace Foster replied softly.

"Go to sleep. Remember, after midnight, don't come back early. If you see me going out with a very pale-skinned girl, don't greet me, just pretend you don't know me, understand?" Henry Thompson continued.

"Don't worry, don't worry, we'll go far away, we definitely won't mess up your important business." Mother paused, then still answered quietly.

"Oh, right." Henry Thompson paused, "I have to pay my tuition this month, about 190,000. You two pay it for me tomorrow."

"190,000... didn't we just pay a big sum recently?" Mother Grace Foster sounded troubled. She and her husband were running short because of the frequent payments.

190,000 was no small amount.

"This time it's for materials and training!" Henry Thompson said impatiently. "Don't you still have your pension? Just withdraw it and pay for me first, you can make it up later."

"This..." Mother Grace Foster hesitated, "Alright, we'll definitely pay it for you."

She didn't mention that she and her husband's pension had already been withdrawn and spent on Henry Thompson.

The factory's performance had been poor lately, and their salaries kept getting cut. The money they had just wasn't enough.

Henry Thompson snorted, pushed back her chair, stood up and walked away to the bathroom to wash up.

Leaving Grace Foster and father James Thompson sitting in the living room, talking quietly.

"My pension isn't enough. Take some from your medical fund to make up the difference. Our daughter's business comes first," Grace Foster whispered.