Chapter 1
Northern China, Hebei Province, Shenzhou Suburb, March 19, 2030 - 8:05 AM
Young Qin Tiang was slumped in his wheelchair, his gaze fixed on the pale screen of his computer. His room reeked of dampness and neglect, cluttered with wrinkled clothes and trash piled in a corner. Only the flickering light of the monitor cut through the darkness.
BAM!
A loud knock echoed against the door.
—Qin! Are you going to keep this up for long?! You've been rotting in this room for two days without doing anything! You want to end up like your uncle, huh?!
His mother's shrill voice cut through the wooden door like a blade.
—Mom... I'm just tired...
he murmured, his throat tight.
His fists clenched on his knees. The mocking laughter of his tormentors echoed in his head, mixing with the insults they threw at him every day. Each memory stabbed him a little deeper.
—Tired?!
A heavy silence. Then, the door slammed violently.
Qin didn't have time to react. His mother stormed in, a broomstick in hand. The first blow struck. Then another.
—You're useless, just like your father!
Qin endured in silence. The pain, he already knew it. It was part of him.
Shenzhou High School, March 19, 2030 - 10:20 AM
The pale fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed faintly as Qin Tiang opened the classroom door. A heavy silence settled.
The stares pierced him immediately.
Whispers. Stifled laughter. Then, the voices came, sharp as fangs.
—Well, here's the idiot.
—Hey, Tiang, how much did you get this time? Zero? Or didn't you even have the courage to look at your paper?
—Seriously, why are you even coming back? You waiting for a miracle for the Gaokao?
—Damn, I don't even want to breathe the same air as this trash.
Qin gritted his teeth and dragged his feet to his seat, trying to ignore the voices chasing him like shadows. He sat next to a girl with silver hair and piercing nacre-blue eyes.
——Hey, asshole, you forgot to answer
A sharp sound. An eraser hit his temple. Qin didn't flinch.
——Sir, aren't you going to say anything?! suddenly called the girl next to him with a crystalline voice.
The laughter stopped immediately.
Qin turned his head toward her. Was she defending him? Why?
—Oh, look at that, the little Buddhist wants to play the heroine.
—Don't you have a temple to go to?
—Shut up and meditate, damn it.
A boy picked up a ball of paper and threw it at her. She didn't look away.
—Silence!
boomed the teacher suddenly, his voice resonating through the room.
A shiver ran through the class.
——Qin Tiang, Meilin. Stay after class.
End of Class - 8:30 PM
The buzzing of the neon broke the silence as Qin and Meilin remained seated, facing the board. Qin watched the teacher with a look full of exhaustion and anger, while Meilin, upright and impassive, waited without flinching.
——Why did you help me? Qin muttered, his voice drained.
Meilin didn't even look at him.
—You have to defend yourself.
Her tone was harsh. No pity. No compassion. Just a simple statement.
Qin stared at her for a moment. A girl like her... what was she after?
—Maybe I should treat you like the others, then.
Meilin finally turned her eyes toward him. A strange gleam passed through her gaze. She didn't answer.
——Children...
The teacher had just sat down in front of them, fingers interlaced under his chin.
With a calm gesture, he turned on the TV mounted on the wall.
The image appeared.
Flames. A street on fire. Haggard figures stumbling amid overturned cars. Distant screams, all filmed by a drone.
—Do you really think you can survive like this?
The video continued.
The "rioters" didn't move like humans. Their bodies trembled. Their heads fell back in strange spasms.
Qin felt a chill run down his spine. Something was wrong.
——What is that...? he murmured.
The teacher remained silent. Then, he finally fixed his gaze on them.
—The end begins tomorrow.