He showed a regretful expression and said, “April, it would really be a shame if you don’t continue playing tennis. I thought I’d have a classmate who’s a world-class beautiful tennis player. You can give it a few more tries, and you can try again in college too—after all, there’s more free time in college. The college entrance exam… you still have two more chances to take it this year, right? Good luck! If you need any help, just ask me. I’m actually pretty good at studying.”

April Clark was a bit stunned. Why is this guy so eloquent today?

After chatting for a while, April Clark left first because this classmate, who could be considered a friend, was so cheerful and enthusiastic today… Compared to before, his way of interacting was almost too cheerful and too enthusiastic, and she wasn’t quite used to it. It wasn’t that she disliked it, she just wasn’t used to it. After all, she’d known him for almost three years, and he had always been the type who wouldn’t start a conversation unless someone else brought up a topic, and could sit there for half a day without saying a word.

At first, it seemed to be because of the language barrier. When he came to the US, he knew some English, but communication was tough. Over time, he became withdrawn. Only a few guys from the basketball team were close to him. Even as a friend, she had to be the one to approach him to maintain a good relationship.

Usually, she was the one who initiated conversations. His sudden “awakening” really made her, as someone who knew him well, feel a bit out of place.

Meanwhile, after seeing off this old friend whom he’d just met but “remembered” knowing for almost three years, he began to review the memories that kept popping up during his conversation with April Clark, as well as the memories triggered by hearing the name “Paul” from her.

“Paul Pierce? Is it that Pierce? Or just someone with the same name?”

As for memories about April Clark, everything the original owner of this body could remember had already surfaced. She was a junior who was responsible for welcoming foreign exchange students when he first arrived in the US. She was very enthusiastic, which is why she was assigned to this job, so she was one of the first people he met in America. Later, after his freshman year, he went straight to senior year. Others he met that day included a teacher, an airport security guard, and the landlady of this apartment building, a Black lady…

It was now after lunch, and people kept coming out of the apartment. He watched the high school students of various skin colors heading out. If he “knew” them, he’d greet them, and scenes of meeting them would suddenly pop up in his mind. He’d unconsciously respond, and almost everyone was quite surprised. Americans are naturally enthusiastic and greet acquaintances when they see them, but the original owner of this body was a withdrawn international student who usually wouldn’t respond. The fact that he responded today was unusual, but no one paid much attention, thinking he was just in a good mood.

But he found it strange. If “he” was so withdrawn, why did so many people take the initiative to greet him… and most of them were girls.

Still, the memories that originally belonged to this body made everything now feel so familiar, so natural.

But he was very clear—this was not the world he originally belonged to!

For the past three years, he’d been lying in a hospital bed. After graduating from college, he worked for two years, and his career had just started to get on track. One day, he suddenly collapsed and was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The first year was okay, but by the second year, his limbs started to stiffen, and eventually, even sensation gradually faded. Every day, all he could do was lie there watching TV or reading books. Eventually, even watching TV and reading became impossible… Then one day, he woke up and found himself standing here.

Every time he saw a “familiar face,” a memory would reflexively pop up in his mind, constantly stimulating his brain. It must have been the memories of this body, letting him know things he was supposed to know. But when it came to interacting, he would speak and act according to the tone and habits of someone who wasn’t the true owner of these memories…

Gradually, he started to lose confidence—was this really not his original world?

His original memories and the memories flooding in were very different, and his brain gradually felt like it was being torn apart.

Maybe because the “stimulations” became more frequent, suddenly, instead of just occasional foreign memories popping up, a tsunami of memories surged into his mind. The intense impact made him faint on the spot. Just before he passed out, he saw a chubby Black guy coming out of the apartment entrance, pausing in surprise at the sight of him collapsing, then quickly rushing over…

……

Henry Bolton seemed to have two incredibly long dreams, with two sets of memories intertwining and merging together. There was no clear primary or secondary, but he could clearly distinguish the differences between the two. When the memories finally fused—he realized he must have transmigrated to a small town in Inglewood, Los Angeles, in the 1990s. His name was Henry Bolton. As for who he originally was, it no longer mattered, because he had already arrived in this world, in this era.

Gradually, that feeling of being torn apart disappeared, and Henry Bolton now understood his current situation.

After the memories fused, he woke up quickly. Sure enough, he wasn’t in a hospital—it seemed to be his bedroom… Wait! Why wasn’t he in the hospital? Didn’t he remember passing out?