Chapter One: The Embroidered Ball Falls from the Sky

"Come and take a look!"

"Buns, freshly steamed buns!"

"Gentlemen, don't just stand outside, come in and have some fun..."

On the bustling street, shops lined up one after another, stalls filled both sides of the road, hawkers shouting one after another, people coming and going, lively as can be.

In a secluded, shabby alley within the city, a few beggars leaned listlessly against the wall.

The noon sun was too harsh; sitting outside to beg would roast their butts. They would only go out to beg for food when it cooled down a bit in another hour.

At the very end of the alley, someone was lying across the ground.

It was a young man, face pale, dressed in plain robes, lying there motionless for several hours.

The beggars occasionally glanced into the alley, chatting idly.

"Tsk tsk, wonder who it was, hit him so hard..."

"Those guys were a bit rough, but this scholar's body is too weak, can't take a beating. He's been lying there for hours, wonder if he'll make it..."

"If he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, we can't stay in this alley, in case the authorities find out and make us scapegoats..."

...

A constant noise from somewhere kept pounding on Grace Carter's eardrums. He couldn't make out the words, which made him irritable and restless. He wanted to cover his ears, but found he couldn't.

His mind was crystal clear, but he couldn't control his body—not even to move a finger or open his eyes.

The faint pain from all over his body made him even more alert, and some memories began to surface clearly in his mind.

Two hours ago, he had just finished defending two graduation theses, successfully earning double master's degrees from a university in the northwest. Before that, he hadn't slept for two days and nights revising his papers.

After leaving school and rushing back to the orphanage where he grew up, he finally couldn't fight the exhaustion and fell asleep on the bus.

When he woke up, it was now.

The environment outside was noisy, his body ached, and he couldn't open his eyes—did something happen while he was asleep, like a car accident?

Grace Carter could only think of this possibility. He felt a bit relieved, but also scared. Relieved that he was still conscious, at least his life was intact; scared that he might have become a vegetable. After the old director passed away, he had no family left in this world. He wondered how the hospital would treat a vegetative patient with no contactable relatives or friends.

He began to try hard to control his body, desperately trying to open his eyes.

...

A small figure walked into the alley from the entrance—a little beggar, clothes ragged and patched, but unlike the other beggars, not filthy. Under the messy hair, a pair of clear, spirited eyes.

The little beggar walked to the deepest part of the alley, glanced at the figure lying on the ground, paused, then walked around him and squatted in the corner by the wall.

Listening to the beggars' chatter, the little beggar looked at the young man lying on the ground.

The man's fingers twitched, as if thirsty, licking his lips several times in a short span.

The little beggar suddenly stood up and walked out of the alley.

Grace Carter still couldn't control his body, and his eyelids felt as heavy as lead, but he could now move his fingers and lick his dry lips.

Suddenly, there were light footsteps nearby, as if someone had approached. That person stopped beside him, and before long, a cool liquid slid down his throat.

If Grace Carter's lips were parched earth, then this coolness was the long-awaited rain.

To his delight, Grace Carter found he could control his body again.

He struggled to open his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Nurse, I..."

His words stopped abruptly, because what he saw was not a nurse in white, but a dirty little face, about eleven or twelve years old, gender indistinguishable, hair messy, but with a pair of bright, lively eyes.

In the other’s hand was a lotus leaf, folded into a container, with water inside. That must have been what was used to feed him just now.

This was not a hospital, and he was not lying on a hospital bed. He was lying in an alley, not far away a few ragged beggars leaning against the wall, looking at him with strange expressions.

Seeing him awake, the little beggar silently retreated to the corner and stopped looking at him.

"Gurgle, gurgle..."