Li Wei had always believed that effort could rewrite destiny.
From the narrow alleys of his hometown to the glass towers of Shenzhen, he'd built his life one overtime shift at a time. At twenty-two, he was already the youngest technician in his department—quiet, dependable, and the kind of person others forgot until something broke.
But beneath that steady surface, something had begun to crack.
Each morning felt heavier, each night shorter. The hum of machines that once gave him purpose now sounded like chains. One humid afternoon, as the office air conditioner struggled against the summer heat, Li Wei typed a short message to his manager: "I resign. Thank you for everything."
He pressed send before he could regret it.
That evening, he sat alone in his small rented room, city lights bleeding through thin curtains. The laptop on his desk flickered awake, the pale glow reflecting in his tired eyes. For the first time in years, there was no work to do—only silence.
Then, a new window appeared.
"Welcome to EdenLink—User ID confirmed."
"This once more? I formatted the window, correct? Frowning at the dim glow of his laptop screen, Li Wei muttered. The quiet room filled with the soft hiss of beer as he cracked open a can. As he gazed at the odd pop-up that would not go away, a bitter taste spread across his tongue.
He sighed and rubbed his temples, asking, "What the hell does it even need?"
He was twenty-two, unemployed at best, in between jobs, and unsure of his future. He still had a few hundred thousand yuan in his bank account, so money wasn't exactly a problem. However, even that seemed flimsy and transient. He had been considering going back to his hometown and possibly establishing a small business in the old building his father had left behind. Something stable. Something that would once more make sense.
Leaning closer to the screen, he took another sip, the carbonation stinging his throat. The odd message remained, a simple and unassuming download prompt. After heaving and hesitating, he clicked the link.
The progress bar came to life briefly.
Data streamed across the screen in lines. After the window blinked a few times, a crisp white interface with a single, tasteful logo—a heart with wings that shimmered subtly as though it were alive—was revealed.
Li Wei's forehead raised. "A 5D wing and heart? Oh. That seems a little too sophisticated to be a scam."
He took a seat back and looked at the screen. The program simply loaded silently, pulsing on his desktop like a heartbeat, without requesting passwords or credit card information. He felt his eyelids getting heavy. It might have been the machine's monotonous hum or the beer. After a long moment, he let out a deep breath and gently clicked the laptop shut.
"Probably nothing," he whispered.
Outside his window, the city lights flickered dimly that night, bouncing off the metal railing. Li Wei was half asleep as he lay on his bed. He thought about the laughter of familiar streets, the sound of the old fan in his father's shop, and the mountain air. He gave a small smile. Perhaps it was time to make a fresh start.
With that thought, he drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the slight glow still leaking from the corners of his closed laptop.
A silent, imperceptible change was taking place.
The room was bright when Li Wei opened his eyes. It was six o'clock in the morning. After a night of drinking, he felt a strange freshness in his head that wasn't normal. He got out of bed, stretched, and blinked a couple of times.
Aside from the distant hum of traffic, the apartment was quiet. He went to the kitchen, got an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator, and poured a glass for himself. The initial sip was strangely refreshing, sweet and cold.
He noticed something odd along the side label as he placed the carton on the table.
He scowled. "Acclaim? Jokes have been printed on packaging since when?
He checked again and rubbed his eyes. The label appeared official, so there was no misprint. He yawned lazily and shook his head. "I must still be having dreams."
He looked at his phone to see what time it was, but a notification flashed across the screen before he could unlock it. Next, another. He paused as the phone vibrated, a steady, low pulse.
It was meant to be a reminder for his auto-recharge. Every month at the end, he renews his mobile plan. However, his carrier did not send the message this time. It had the same name, but the company name was completely different.
Which started a storm within his chest.
An hour passed before Li Wei finally began to piece things together.
At first, he thought it was a vivid dream—the kind that lingers even after waking, the edges too sharp to fade. But as the minutes turned into an hour, he realized this wasn't a dream at all. The world outside his window was subtly… off. The skyline was still there, the streets below familiar, but the small things—the colors of the storefronts, the brands, the language—all bore tiny distortions that made his stomach twist.
His smartphone, at least, was still the same. Same model, same scratches along the edges. But every app name had changed. Messages, photos, even his banking app looked different—cleaner, sleeker, and written in a strange hybrid script.
He scrolled through his balance and blinked in disbelief.
7,200,000,000 Credits.
He stared at the screen. "That's… seven billion?"
A quick calculation made his heart skip. Here, one yuan equaled a hundred thousand credits. His entire savings—a modest sum back home—had transformed into a fortune beyond imagination.
For a long time, Li Wei could only sit there, dazed. His old worries—jobs, bills, the future—felt like they belonged to someone else entirely.
But excitement quickly gave way to suspicion.
The same application from last night, the one with the heart-and-wings logo, remained on his computer screen. It was still open, pulsing faintly, as though waiting for him. When he clicked it, the interface unfolded again—sleek, white, and impossibly advanced.
Rows of data scrolled by, detailing his personal information in unnerving precision: name, age, bank accounts, work history, health stats—even a summary of his recent thoughts and habits.
Li Wei swallowed hard. "This thing knows too much…"
Quest: Have sex with the hot neighbor girl.
Reward: 10 K RMB + 1 Ability point.
Quest: Flirt with twenty college girls in the allotted time: 2 days.
Reward: 2 K RMB + 1 Ability point.
The list of missions stretched endlessly across the screen, a cascade of digital text that seemed to update on its own every few seconds.
At first glance, they looked absurd—almost playful, like tasks from a poorly translated mobile game. But as Li Wei scrolled, he realized there was a strange logic behind them. Some were simple, harmless actions. Others felt... personal, almost invasive, as if the system understood his private thoughts better than he did.
Each mission came with its own reward—credits, ability points, or both. The smallest tasks offered a few hundred credits. Others promised vast sums, bordering on the impossible. The structure was clear: temptation as motivation.
He leaned back, exhaling through his nose.
"So this thing wants to turn life into a game…"
There were tens of thousands of these "quests." Some encouraged social interaction, others boldness, others risk. Together they formed a pattern that was equal parts opportunity and trap—a design that seemed intent on studying human desire itself.
Li Wei's heart beat a little faster.
Maybe it was insane. Maybe he was hallucinating. But another part of him—the part that had spent years buried under dull routine—couldn't help but feel an unfamiliar spark of excitement.
He opened his banking tab again. His balance glowed on the screen, that staggering number of credits still there, real and untouchable.
"One yuan for ten thousand credits…" he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I guess that makes me rich."
Wealth beyond reason, a mysterious system offering power, and a world that no longer made sense.
For the first time, Li Wei didn't feel lost.
He felt… chosen.
Li Wei forced a laugh under his breath and shook his head. "This is becoming absurd," he whispered.
He could still feel the surreal weight of the morning—the missions, the credits, the system. In order to reground himself, he needed air, something tangible.
After grabbing his keys and putting his phone in his pocket, he made his way to the door. "A smoke... or perhaps a stroll," he whispered. "That ought to be beneficial."
Outside, the corridor was silent, the sort of quiet that follows the break of day, half dreaming, half awake. A quiet voice called out as he locked the door.
Greetings, Brother Li.
He pivoted. A young woman stood by the stairwell, her ponytail tied high and damp from an early workout, a towel draped around her neck. She was the girl from the apartment next door, Yunfei.
She was in her early twenties, a senior at a university by this point, and exuded the easy, self-assured air of someone who understood how others perceived her. She was nicknamed the lazy succubus by the boys in the complex, not because she was lazy but rather because of her easy charm, even when she was doing nothing.
Li Wei grinned. "Yunfei. Getting up early once more? You never sleep in, do you?
Her tone was bright but courteous as she laughed lightly. "Habit, I suppose. I feel bad all day if I don't work out first thing in the morning.
He gave a nod. "Are you still employed at that upscale gym? The one by East Station?
"Mm." She fiddled with her sports bag's strap. "It pays well, but it's exhausting." It also helps me stay focused.
Li Wei took a moment to examine her. The way she carried herself was admirable; she was disciplined, self-assured, and almost stubbornly determined. He had heard enough gossip about her ascent through the ranks of the competition, but he had never given it much thought. The fact that she had done it was what counted.
He recalled learning that Yunfei had essentially rebuilt her family's life on her own after they had incurred significant debt a few years prior. Despite the rumors that were all around her, the truth was straightforward: she had put in a lot of effort and was not going to give up.
"That's excellent," Li Wei remarked earnestly. "Very few people your age are able to maintain such composure."
Yunfei brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear and smiled modestly. "Brother Li, you flatter me. Everyone claims that you were a genius at your company prior to your resignation."
The faint echo of Yunfei's footsteps echoed in the hall as she made her way down the stairwell. As the light from the windows painted the floor a gentle gold, Li Wei watched her vanish around the corner.
With a sigh, he reached into his pockets.