Folang Village was nestled high in the mountains, thousands of meters above sea level. It had existed for as long as the oldest tree in the mountains had been alive.
Before dawn broke, the chirping of birds pierced through the dense mist. On the slope behind the mountain, three or four unruly-looking youths stood together. They were idlers from the neighboring village, and they had surrounded a black-haired man in the center, seemingly discussing something. However, the atmosphere felt far from pleasant.
”Uncle Liu and the others are busy building the tourist village recently. They haven’t had time to install surveillance cameras on the mountain yet. You’re the driver, You Que. Without your help, we can’t get this done.”
The man addressed as You Que leaned against a pine tree, his unkempt bangs nearly obscuring his eyes. He was tall and thin, dressed in a black short-sleeved shirt. His slender, bony hands hung quietly at his sides, one of them holding an unlit cigarette.
He probably wanted to smoke, but seeing the dense forest around him, he gave up the idea. His voice was calm and distant, carrying a hint of indifference: “I’ve told you before, don’t come to me for this kind of thing. Spending years in prison for a few bucks isn’t worth it.”
The leader of the youths tried hard to persuade him. “You’re underestimating this. Among the tourists this time, there’s a fat lamb ripe for the taking. Just the bag on their back is worth this much.” He gestured with his fingers to indicate a large sum. “If we pull this off, we won’t have to worry for years.”
You Que gave a faint smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “How do you know the bag he’s carrying isn’t a knockoff?”
Another youth chimed in, “He’s a big celebrity. Stayed at my family’s homestay just last night—I saw him clearly. Took off his mask, and he looks exactly like he does on TV. Plus, he’s got that spoiled rich-kid vibe all over him. No way he’s some broke nobody.”
You Que couldn’t be bothered to listen to their chatter any longer. “I’ve got a bus to drive later. I’m leaving.”
Just as he was about to walk away, the leader grabbed his wrist tightly. “You Que, listen to me. When you’re driving the tourists up the mountain later, just take the Stone Buddha Road. You don’t have to do anything else. Once it’s done, you’ll get your share of the money.”
You Que shook off his hand without hesitation and started walking down the mountain without looking back. “I told you, don’t come to me for this kind of thing.”
He hadn’t gone far when he faintly heard someone behind him spit on the ground and sneer, “Tch, acting all righteous—weren’t you fresh out of prison yourself?”
You Que paused for a moment at those words but quickly resumed his pace, heading toward a village house further down the mountain. He pushed open the wooden fence gate, revealing an old well inside. Beside the well sat a hunched elderly farmer, leisurely puffing on a tobacco pipe.
Seeing him, You Que called out, “Dad.”
Father You grunted in response, tapping the ash from his tobacco pipe. “Go have some breakfast. You’ve got to drive up the mountain later—fill your stomach first.”
At that moment, a slightly plump farmwoman emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of steaming porridge. She picked up some salted vegetables with her chopsticks and quickly walked over to You Que. “Oh, You Que, you’re back! Come on, eat while it’s hot. The porridge just came off the stove.”
Father You glanced at the salted vegetables in the bowl and frowned. “A-Ying, didn’t you fry some eggs in the kitchen? Get him one.”
A-Ying wiped her skirt and replied with an unwilling tone, “Don’t go around saying I’m mistreating him just because I’m his stepmother. There were only a few eggs, and we each had a bite. There’s none left. Let’s wait until the hen lays more tomorrow.”
Father You let out a long sigh at her words. He hated this second wife with a passion, but not wanting to argue, he simply slouched in frustration and took a drag from his cigarette, quietly brooding by himself.
You Que found a stool and sat down, burying his head in his food. He had already decided not to make a fuss, but the woman wasn’t about to let him off so easily. Leaning against the kitchen door, she asked, “You Que, I heard you’re driving now. How much does the village pay you a month?”
You Que gave her no response but a cold, dismissive tone. “None of your business.”
A-Ying’s voice suddenly grew sharp and high-pitched. “None of my business? Of course, it’s my business! You stay at home all day, eating and living for free. Everything costs money, you should contribute something to the household!”
Father You forcefully tapped his tobacco pipe, his voice stern. “Shut up, stop talking. How much money can he make driving? I’ll send him to the city to work next year.”
A-Ying sneered. “To the city? Even if he goes, it depends on whether anyone will take him. He spends all his time with those local hooligans, and he’s been to prison for stealing. The only reason he’s got a job as a driver is because the village chief gave him face.”
She finished speaking and, too lazy to continue the argument, picked up her young son, who was playing by the door, and went into the kitchen. She took out a bowl of steamed egg custard from the pot. “Here, Zhuzi, be good. Mom will feed you.”
Zhuzi pointed at the bowl and said, “Mom, you’re lying. There’s clearly more eggs in the pot.”
A-Ying slapped him lightly, her tone harsh. “Just eat your food and stop talking so much!”
You Que sat by the kitchen window, clearly hearing everything inside. He quickly finished his bowl of porridge, then went inside to grab a black backpack, stuffing it with some water and biscuits. Just as he was about to leave for work, he suddenly overheard Father You’s frustrated sigh: “Why did you have to learn to steal of all things? Always hanging out with that group of troublemakers, now you can’t even find a decent job!”
You Que heard those words and, with a blank expression, walked over to Father You. He crouched down in front of him, his eyes a pale tea-brown in the sunlight, but his pupils dark and piercing. “What’s it to you?”
His sudden, cold remark left Father You stunned for a moment.
You Que spoke each word slowly, his tone cold and biting. “You went out to work for over a decade and never once came back, not sending a single cent home. Last year, you finally returned, bringing a young wife and a little son with you. When I went hungry with no food to eat, you didn’t care. When my mom ran off with another man, you didn’t care. Now, what right do you have to control me?”
After speaking, he ignored Father You, who was left speechless and unable to respond. You Que stood up, kicked over the ceramic bowl on the ground, and slammed the door as he left.
Several villages at the foot of the mountain had recently joined forces to build a tourist attraction. Each household chipped in some money to buy a car that was neither new nor old, and they put up a few shabby advertisements. At least, they had set up the framework.
You Que knew how to drive, and the village chief had pulled him in to work as a driver. His daily job was to take a handful of unsuspecting tourists up the mountain for a scenic drive. By the time he reached the base of the mountain, the tourists were already waiting in the car. Only a young tour guide wearing a yellow baseball cap stood at the door, waiting.
The tour guide saw You Que and walked over a few steps. “You Que, why are you so late? We’ve been waiting for you for half an hour.”
You Que quickly made up an excuse. “I got held up with breakfast. Let’s go, get in the car.”
After speaking, You Que turned and got into the car, taking the driver’s seat. He put on a yellow tourist hat and, following the usual routine, turned on the speaker beside the seat. The voice of the village chief echoed from the speakers, his promotional message recorded in a half-baked Mandarin mixed with a strong local accent, sounding rather comical:
“Dear respected tourists, welcome to Fo Lang Mountain. Here, we not only have sinkhole relics, but also ancient civilizations. Luxurious accommodations for five days and five nights, with all food and lodging included. Don’t hesitate, take action now! The Little Yellow Duck tour group welcomes your arrival…”
The tour guide cut off the speaker before the message was finished.
You Que glanced at him. “It’s not done yet.”
The tour guide shrugged, “Don’t play it. It sounds awful.”
You Que had no choice but to start the car and drive up the mountain, steadily navigating the winding road through the early morning mist. He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the words his old troublemaking friends had said earlier. It left him feeling agitated, and before long, his speed increased as he took a series of sharp turns.
A tourist in the backseat was almost thrown off the seat, cursing loudly in frustration, “Damn it! Are you trying to be reborn with such reckless driving?! Can’t you slow down?!”
The bus wasn’t exactly a proper coach; it was more of a small minibus that had been retrofitted for tourism.
You Que heard the curse and slightly lifted his eyes from under his hat, glancing at the rearview mirror. He eased off the gas a little. “Sorry, the mountain road was slippery this morning, and the brakes couldn’t stop the speed.”
Ahead was a junction where they were supposed to turn right, but for some reason, You Que suddenly swerved the steering wheel and took a left into a narrow mountain path.
The tour guide glanced up at him. “Why aren’t we taking the Stone Buddha Road?”
You Que remained unfazed. “That road got blocked by falling rocks yesterday.”
The tour guide didn’t say anything else and looked away.
As the vehicle climbed higher, the mountain road grew increasingly difficult. You Que had slowed down to a crawl, and along the way, he picked up a young man from the same village. But the minibus, which was old and worn, had many parts that were long overdue for replacement, though the village chief, ever so frugal, refused to make any repairs.
“Creaaak—!”
Another sharp turn.
You Que furrowed his brows, clearly feeling the brakes weren’t responding properly. He eased the car down to the lowest speed and tried to maintain a steady pace. But just as he was making his way around the final sharp bend, a sudden, sharp cracking sound came from above the mountain peak. Moments later, several large rocks, accompanied by the sound of rushing wind, came crashing down, directly hitting the windshield.
“Bang—!”
Folang Mountain’s altitude was high, and earthquakes were frequent. The mountain walls nearby were covered with protective nets to catch falling debris. A few days ago, a section of the protective net had been washed away by the rain, and it hadn’t been repaired in time. Unfortunately, today, the timing was perfect for disaster.
You Que noticed the falling rocks ahead and quickly slammed on the brakes, swerving the steering wheel to avoid them. However, just then, a loud crash echoed from above, and a massive rock fell, smashing through the roof of the car. Inside the vehicle, startled cries erupted as the car’s body lurched sharply to one side.
“Damn! A rock just fell! Run!”
“Don’t move! The chances of the rock hitting the same spot are low! What if you get hit again by running around?!”
“Quick, drive out of here!”
Just ahead was the village, and You Que was about to adjust the steering wheel to quickly drive out of the danger zone when a sharp pain suddenly shot through his wrist. He looked down in surprise, only to realize that shards of the windshield had somehow lodged into his arm, blood pouring down and staining his entire arm.
In that brief moment of distraction, the minibus, due to the steep mountain slope, began sliding rapidly backward. The rear end slammed violently into the guardrail—
“Bang—!”
There was another loud crash as the yellow minibus tumbled off the mountain road, disappearing into the thick mist, and no further sounds followed.
A golden flying insect emerged from the forest, landing on the broken guardrail. It fluttered its wings once, then flew away again shortly after.
You Que lost consciousness when the minibus plunged off the cliff. When he regained awareness, he was met with frantic cries in his ears, growing louder and then fainter, shaking his head painfully:
“Not good! Run! The interstellar pirates are coming!”
“Help! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”
Interspersed with the cries were sharp, intense gunshots.
“Bang! Bang!”
You Que struggled to open his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a dim sky. He shakily got to his feet, only to realize he was in a desolate wilderness. In the distance, a group of people were running frantically, and behind them, a few black starships hovered in the sky, following at a distance.
What’s going on?!
You Que’s expression was one of confusion, but before he could make sense of the situation, one of the fleeing people slammed into his shoulder. He grunted in pain, clutching his injured arm, staggering back a couple of steps. To his shock, the person who bumped into him was in even worse condition, collapsing with a thud onto the ground. Several bloody bullet holes dotted their back, blood soaking through their clothes.
Seeing this, You Que was startled and quickly rushed over to check on them. “What happened to you?!”
The man’s appearance was quite unusual—brown hair, dark eyes, and a high nose with deep-set features. He was bleeding from the corner of his mouth where the bullet had struck. Gripping You Que’s arm tightly as if it were a lifeline, he weakly muttered, his voice broken, “Save… save me… I don’t want to die…”
As they were speaking, the panicked crowd behind them was rapidly approaching, pushing and trampling over each other, crying out in fear. The pursuing starships above continued to fire on the ground, bullets already landing near You Que’s feet.
“Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!”
You Que quickly rolled to the side to avoid the bullets, but the man he had been trying to help wasn’t so lucky—he had breathed his last.
Realizing the danger of staying in this spot, You Que noticed his black backpack lying not far off. He grabbed it quickly, then joined the fleeing crowd, but the starships kept relentlessly pursuing them.
You Que had lost a lot of blood, and his vision began to fade. He found himself distanced from the crowd. Ahead, he spotted a dense forest not far off and quickly increased his speed to make it there. The thick foliage could effectively block the line of sight for the starships.
As expected, the starships abandoned their pursuit of You Que, instead shifting their focus to chase down the rest of the crowd, and the sound of gunfire gradually faded into the distance.
You Que kept running, his heartbeat growing faster and his breath becoming more urgent. He didn’t know where he was or how people were shooting in a time of peace. All he knew was that the person who had just died in front of him was truly gone, and if he didn’t keep running, he would die too.
The scenery on both sides of the dense forest was rapidly retreating, while numerous elusive and dangerous creatures lurked in the shadows. They seemed eager to feast, but when they noticed the blood spilling from the man’s body, they all instinctively hesitated, feeling a sense of fear.
You Que didn’t know how long he had been running. The dimming sky had completely darkened, and thankfully, the small patch of forest wasn’t too large. By the time the moon had risen, he finally reached the exit.
Behind him, the dense forest, which had covered the sky like an invisible cage, was left far behind. Ahead, a small town appeared, its faint lights in the darkness resembling a lifeline, stirring a glimmer of hope in his heart.
You Que’s tense nerves finally relaxed, and he collapsed onto the ground, utterly exhausted. He struggled to move his fingertips, attempting to rise, but the energy he had left drained away, and it became impossible to gather it again. His vision blurred, and in the haze, he felt as though several people had gathered around him, their voices flooding into his mind without pause.
“Hey, there’s a zerg here?”
Someone shone a light on You Que’s neck and exclaimed in surprise, “There’s no zerg markings on his neck, it’s actually a male zerg?”
“He’s covered in blood. Could he be dead?”
“He looks pretty handsome. Let’s drag him back first and figure it out.”
This was the first time You Que met Gu Yi and the other male zergs. He had replayed that scene countless times in his mind, still unsure whether he was lucky or unlucky.
The fortunate part was that he had been saved.
Unlucky, however, was the fact that Gu Yi and the others were far from good people. At best, they were a group of street thugs, tricksters and swindlers, and You Que could sense that he was slowly being dragged into their mess.
…
In a cheap rented room, the light was dim. A man lay on the bed, deep in sleep. When the alarm clock struck seven, he woke up on time, staring blankly for a moment before slowly sitting up from the bed.
It was that dream again.
You Que reached up to wipe his face, still unable to understand why, after simply falling off a cliff, he had ended up in this strange alternate world.
He got out of bed, opened the drawer, and found a few medicine bottles. With practiced hands, he changed the dressing on the wound on his arm, quickly wrapping it in bandages. Afterward, he walked into the narrow bathroom to wash up.
The mirror above the sink reflected a pale, gaunt face of a man, his eyes indifferent, like a handsome male model from a magazine, though there was a hint of lifelessness about him.
You Que ran his fingers through his brown-dyed black hair, then stared into the mirror, observing his light brown eyes, still feeling that this face seemed out of place in the small, remote town. He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face, but suddenly, a series of knocks echoed from outside, causing him to pause:
“Knock, knock, knock—!”
You Que wiped his face with a towel and quickly walked to the door, but didn’t open it immediately. “Who is it?”
A voice from outside replied, “Excuse me, is this Lord Eugene? We are investigators from the local Marriage Distribution Bureau, and we would like to inquire about your family situation.”
Upon hearing this, You Que paused for a moment. “Wait a moment,” he replied.
He spoke, then turned and returned to the bathroom. From the lower shelf of the vanity, he took out a red box and applied numerous unattractive pimples to his face. He then placed a swollen fake scar on the right side of his cheek, until his original appearance was completely unrecognizable. Only then did he put on a mask and head over to open the door.
“Click—”
You Que opened the door and found an investigator in a blue uniform standing outside, with a badge displaying a number, confirming they were from the marriage distribution office. “May I help you?” he asked.
The investigator paused when they saw You Que wearing a mask. “Your Excellency, why are you wearing a mask?”
You Que replied succinctly, “I have an allergy.”
The investigator stared at him for a moment. Sure enough, they noticed the inflamed skin peeking from beneath the mask and quickly averted their gaze. “I see, Your Excellency. The Empire has been promoting national birth rates, and a new policy was just released last month. It mandates that both local and foreign residents must participate in matchmaking events hosted by the introduction office. While reviewing rental information, we found that you moved in last month and are single, correct?”
Upon hearing the request, You Que instinctively glanced at the empty, sparsely furnished rental room behind him, then responded with a quiet “Mm.”
The investigator continued, “Could you please show me your ID? We need to make a registration for our records.”
You Que furrowed his brow upon hearing the request, muttering, “Wait a moment.” He then turned and dragged a black travel bag from beneath the bed. Opening the zipper, he rummaged through the bag until he found an ID card. As he stared at the photo on it, he froze for a moment.
The photo depicted a man with brown hair and brown eyes, and the name field clearly displayed “Eugene.” It was obvious that this ID did not belong to You Que.
On the day he was fleeing in the countryside, the situation had been too chaotic. You Que had grabbed his bag and run, only realizing later that he had taken the wrong one. Inside, there were some scattered money and various identification cards. By examining the photo, it was clear that the ID belonged to the unfortunate man who had died from an interstellar pirate’s gunshot that day.
In this unfamiliar world, You Que was considered an illegal resident. When he rented the place, he had borrowed this ID, not expecting anyone would come looking for him.
He took the ID and turned back toward the door, handing it to the investigator. “Here is my ID.”
The investigator took it, scanning the information with a machine. “Lord Eugene, your blood purity is 26%, age 24. During the later matching process, we will select a suitable partner for you. If there are any updates, we will notify you as soon as possible.”
You Que seemed uninterested. “Thank you.”
The investigator returned the ID to him and left, but not before handing him a small gift as they departed.
You Que closed the door, and the air fell completely still. He turned around and walked to the living room, pulling open the curtains. He noticed that the street below had already become noisy, filled with bustling crowds.
No, perhaps they weren’t people.
But… zergs.
You Que sat by the window, his head lowered as he gently rubbed the identity card in his hand. A rare sense of uncertainty stirred within him.
As a human, how could he hide his identity and survive in a world full of zergs?
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only now i realized that for a tour to happen, there should be a driver lol. i guess the last arc would belong to the little star those thugs were planning to rob