“You guys may have it rough, but damn it, I’ve transmigrated!”

William Clark picked up his phone and found a few college classmates’ group chats. These people had all gone their separate ways, struggling to make a living.

The groups were quiet, hardly anyone talking. He sent a 200-yuan red envelope to each group. Sure enough! Like moles popping out of their holes in search of food, people started showing up one by one:

“Who’s so generous? Turns out it’s Mr. Clark!”

“Mr. Clark opening a new branch? In such high spirits?”

“Honestly, this orange in my hand might have been air-shipped from Mr. Clark’s supermarket.”

“Mr. Clark, hurry up and become a capitalist, pamper all the beauties in school!”

“A bunch of bastards!”

William Clark typed, and the group burst into laughter for a while before returning to silence.

He could only sigh.

……

Evelyn kept squeezing the little ball, watching what was happening over there, feeling a flash of dazzling light flickering back and forth, making her restless.

She was only 17. How could she not be nervous in this situation? But along with the nerves, it was like she’d discovered a treasure cave all by herself, a bit eager to try.

Luckily, that guy called Old Clark didn’t seem to have any aggression.

Sigh!

She suddenly sat up, remembering how much he ate at dinner—like he could swallow mountains and rivers. She started to worry again: How am I supposed to feed him?

Chapter 6: New World

The rain finally stopped.

Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, showing off the fine weather today.

His mind hadn’t fully woken up yet. After a dozen seconds, a thought suddenly popped up: “Oh, my home is gone! And I’ve got a new master!”

And then—an urgent need to pee.

He hadn’t even changed last night, sleeping in a tank top and big shorts. Seeing the ragged clothes still hanging there, with a rustling sound, he said, “Morning, are you up?”

“Morning!”

Evelyn was clearly not used to being greeted. She froze for a moment before replying, then casually pulled open the curtains.

She was still wearing those tattered clothes, hair damp, face covered in moisture, as if she’d just washed up, with dewdrops rolling in her dark, shiny eyes.

“I’m borrowing the bathroom.”

“Trouble!”

She said it, but still stepped aside.

William Clark didn’t even have a towel or toothbrush, just wiped his face haphazardly and came out to see breakfast already on the table—still porridge and pickles.

“Not having nutrient supplements today?”

“We only eat those every few days, and I get a single-person ration. Now there’s you too!”

“Don’t be stingy, I’ll help you earn it back soon.”

“Bragger!”

He downed three more bowls of rice, making Evelyn wince in pain. She tapped her phone and said, “Morning news!”

“Okay.”

The holographic projection appeared again, playing news stories one after another.

“Protests have broken out again in Neon, with people demonstrating against the government’s reduction of tritiated water beverage quotas. The protests were suppressed by police, and the clashes were intense. We saw a young man, one of his heads streaming with tears and snot from tear gas, while his other head was still loudly denouncing…”

“Several countries in the central West Continent have unanimously decided to hold presidential elections this year. All the candidates claim: their own country is the true heir to the beacon of freedom!”

“The floating corpses in the Ganges have piled up like mountains. For fifty years, the government has been slowly dredging the river. But today, something big happened—those floating corpses stood up!!!”

“Hahaha!”

William Clark was fired up, pounding the table with laughter.

And it felt so familiar! So exciting! He was full of energy!

Suddenly, he wasn’t nervous anymore.

“Is it really that funny?”

“It’s more than funny. If you were in my world, you’d be laughing too.”

Evelyn didn’t get it, chewing on pickles as she said, “Your biggest problem now is you don’t have a household registration. You need to figure out how to get an identity. It’s not that hard.”

“Why not?”

“You’re 26, just the right age to have been born after the war. Things were chaotic then, lots of kids without parents. Now there’s a policy—special registration for wartime and postwar undocumented people. But you need to get familiar with the environment. I’ll teach you what to say.”

Evelyn gave him some pointers, but William Clark was skeptical: “Are you sure?”

“Just say it like that. Lots of people do. I’ll take you out for a walk later.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t refuse.

Although he felt some resistance to this strange world, just like his name, he always went with the flow—what people call a big heart.

After breakfast, Evelyn looked him over and took off her oversized coat: “Try this on.”

“Haha!”

She couldn’t stop laughing.

William Clark’s look at the moment: slippers, big shorts, an old coat hanging open, showing the white tank top underneath.

“Exactly, exactly, you look just like someone from our stack building!”

Without another word, she dragged him out. The door was locked up tight.

As soon as they stepped outside, William Clark was stunned.

In front of him was a steel beehive, like a tube-shaped apartment, or like Hong Kong’s public housing—tall, packed so densely it was scary. The structure was U-shaped, with three sides of buildings and one side open, the beehive-like little rooms connected by long corridors.

Pots and pans clanged, delicious smells wafted through the air.

He was on a lower floor, and as far as he could see, there were plenty of signs: Traditional Chinese Bone Setting, Foot Massage, Hair Salon, Clothing, and so on.

There was even a lightbox at his own door, reading: Recycling Old Goods, Old Computers, and so on.