Chapter 1: The Computer from the Future

"Ahhh, my wallet!"

"My phone! My brand-new Nokia!"

"Son of a—where's my new Nike sneakers?!" 

A chorus of hoarse, duck-like squawks erupted in Room 207 of Building 14 at Hexie University. The cries were so shrill and mournful that anyone who didn't catch the words might've thought these poor guys had just been tag-teamed by some nightmare duo straight out of a bad comedy sketch. 

The group stared at the pried-open lock on the door, tears welling up in their eyes. Anyone in their shoes would feel the same—stuff stolen, and on the first day of school, no less! Worse yet, this was a freshman dorm. What could be more depressing than losing your gear on the literal first day of college? Maybe watching a trainwreck of a soccer game where your team doesn't even show up. 

They frantically rummaged through their belongings, but Chen Xu just stood there by his bed, frozen, staring at his pillow like it had sprouted a flower or something. 

"Third Bro," Qin Xiao'an—Second Bro—said with a sour edge, "didn't lose a single thing, huh?" 

Chen Xu slowly turned his head, his face a mask of anguish, like he was about to bawl. "Didn't lose anything? Are you kidding me? You lost a pair of fake Nikes you snagged for 80 bucks at some roadside stall. I lost a brand-new laptop worth eight freaking grand!" 

The chaos in Room 207 quickly drew a crowd. When word spread that Chen Xu had lost an 8,000-yuan laptop on day one, reactions varied: some offered sympathy, others smirked behind their hands, and a few stormed off indignantly to find the dorm supervisor. But this floor was all freshmen—newbies with zero experience—so it took some upperclassmen from upstairs to calm everyone down and call the cops. 

"Here, have a smoke." Sitting across from Chen Xu was a towering, tank-like guy—Wang Dong, a junior from the same department. He'd just dealt with the police who'd come to poke around. Lighting up a Huangshan cigarette with practiced ease, he waved the pack at Chen Xu. 

"Man, you guys are cursed," Wang Dong said, exhaling a smoke ring. "First day as freshmen and you're already getting hit—and with something that pricey, too. Tough break. Happens a dozen times every year, though, especially at the start of the semester. Too many people, too many sticky fingers. Next time, lock your valuables in a box. And ditch those flimsy school-issued locks—grab one from the shop by the gate. Ten bucks, way sturdier." 

Chen Xu wasn't sure what he was feeling—regret, probably, more than anything. He and Big Bro Wu Yuan both had laptops in the dorm. But Wu Yuan locked his in a cabinet every night, while Chen Xu, too lazy to bother, just tossed his on the bed. Now, guess whose laptop was gone and whose wasn't? If they'd both lost theirs, at least he'd have a buddy in misery. 

Eight thousand yuan. That's no small change. Sure, his family was decently well-off, but not "lose 8,000 bucks and shrug it off" rich. If he told them he'd lost his most expensive possession on day one, his mom would nag him into the grave. 

"Senior, who do you think did it?" Fourth Bro Dong Qingjie piped up, grinding his teeth so hard you could hear it. He'd lost his wallet, though the thief had some shred of decency—only took the cash and left the bank cards and ID tossed on the table. No clue how much he'd lost yet, but from the way he was clenching his jaw, you'd think it was millions. 

Wang Dong chuckled. "Could be anyone with the chance—fellow students, scammers posing as parents sneaking into the dorms, vendors hawking junk in the halls. Take your pick. Look, don't sweat it too much. This happens every year, and they hardly ever catch the guy. Just chalk it up to bad luck." 

Seeing the stubborn frustration still etched on their faces, Wang Dong grinned. Freshmen, he thought. Still kids, haven't been seasoned yet. Back in his day, who hadn't lost something? One guy in their department held the record: two phones, an MP3 player, a wallet, and a meal card—all gone in three days. You get used to it. 

"Alright, I'm outta here," Wang Dong said, standing up. "Don't dwell on it too much. Lesson learned, right? Be smarter next time." At the door, he turned back. "Oh, one of you swing by later—I've got some old study guides to pass down. They're gold for exams, useless after. You can hand 'em off to the next batch of freshmen when you're done." 

"Thanks, Senior!" the four of them chorused. Wang Dong waved it off with a "No problem" and strode out, leaving behind the imposing silhouette of a man built like a brick wall. 

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Third Bro," Wu Yuan—Big Bro—said, trying to console him. He'd lost his phone, sure, but Chen Xu's loss was the priciest, so Wu Yuan figured he could feel a little less miserable by comparison. 

Qin Xiao'an chimed in, "Come on, let's grab some food. Man up, dude—it's just stuff. If I ever catch that thief, I'll gut him!" 

Chen Xu rolled his eyes. "Yeah, easy for you to say—you lost the least. Whatever, you guys go eat. I need to figure out what to do, maybe tell my folks. Just… let me chill for a bit." 

Hearing that, they shut up. Wu Yuan clapped him on the shoulder—"I'll bring you back some grub"—and the three of them shuffled out, leaving Chen Xu alone. 

"Goddamn, this sucks!" Once they were gone, Chen Xu slammed his fist into the door with a dull thud, venting a sliver of his pent-up frustration. 

Ask his family to buy him another laptop? Fat chance. He'd had to beg for this one, his dad already suspicious he'd just use it to goof off instead of study—which, yeah, was the plan. Now it was gone, and he'd be lucky if his dad didn't chew him out, let alone shell out for a replacement. 

"Guess I'm just screwed," Chen Xu muttered, flopping onto his bed with a groan. He cursed the thief a few times—hope he's got no kids—then the school for its crap security, letting any random jerk waltz in. 

He grabbed a magazine off the pile, something he'd picked up at the train station on his way here. It was full of ridiculous nonsense—Ultraman vs. the Gourd Boys, aliens being George W. Bush's secret godfather, that kind of junk. 

Chen Xu's head was a mess. He was just a freshman, after all, and losing something that valuable had his hands trembling. Flipping through the magazine wasn't about being tough—it was a desperate grab for anything to distract himself. 

He skimmed a few pages, but his mind wouldn't settle. Just as he was about to chuck it aside, a headline caught his eye: "Time Tunnels and Parallel Worlds…" 

Not exactly groundbreaking stuff these days. But what hooked him wasn't the cheesy main title—it was the subtitle: "A Cambridge Thesis." 

Cambridge, my ass, he thought. Anyone clueless might picture the fancy London university, but Chen Xu knew better. Plenty of sketchy private schools slapped names like Oxford or Cambridge on their signs. There was even a "Cambridge English Crash Course" joint right next to Hexie U. 

Still, he skimmed it. The writer had some wild ideas. It kicked off with the "Grandmother Paradox"—some guy time-traveling back to kill his young grandma. Could it happen? 

Chen Xu had heard of this one before. It's one of those brain-bending loops, like chicken-or-egg nonsense, impossible to unravel. Fun to argue about, sure, but he couldn't help thinking whoever dreamed it up had way too much time on their hands. What, you're bored so you go kill your grandma for kicks? 

"Scientists are just crazy kids with too many brain cells," he muttered, tossing the magazine aside. But as it hit the floor, a wild idea sparked in his head. He bolted upright like he'd been shocked. 

It was absurd.

Completely bonkers.

Under normal circumstances, he'd never act on a thought this ridiculous—it was so far out there it made Bush and bin Laden being brothers sound sane. But right now, Chen Xu was pissed, his head spinning, and in a "screw it, why not" mood, he actually went for it. 

He grabbed a sturdy sheet of paper and a black pen, then scribbled: 

"To my descendants, I'm your ancestor Chen Xu. It's September 1, 2006, 12:07 PM Beijing time. Today, your ancestor hit rock bottom… On my first day of college, my 8,000-yuan laptop got stolen. If you're my kin, do me a solid. If your time's got those legendary time machines, send me a laptop. Address: Room 207, Building 14, Hexie University, XX City, XX Province." 

When he finished, he folded the note carefully and tucked it into his wallet, treating it like some sacred relic. 

"Man, I've lost it," he said with a self-mocking laugh, standing up to hit the bathroom. But the second he got to his feet, a loud thunk rang out above him—something hard smacked his head, leaving him dizzy and seeing stars. 

"What the hell?! Who's the jerk tossing crap down here?!" he yelled, rubbing his skull. "Throwing—wait…" 

He stopped mid-rant. He was inside. There was nothing above him but the ceiling! 

He glanced up—ceiling intact, no chunks falling. So what hit him? 

Turning around, he saw it: a sleek, silver laptop lying quietly on the floor next to him…