Chapter One: Li Fu

This story unfolds in a parallel universe and bears no connection to reality; any resemblance is purely coincidental.

On October 24, 2017, a cold front from Siberia swept through the capital, painting the leaves golden across the campus of Yanhuang University. Renowned as one of the most prestigious institutions in the Republic of Huaxia and celebrated for its long history, Yanhuang University boasted lush greenery throughout its grounds.

At this moment, anyone walking along the pathways of Yanhuang University would find themselves immersed in a picturesque autumn scene. The fallen leaves, red and yellow, paved the roads like a beautiful carpet. The tall trees lining each side stood in resplendent gold, glowing even brighter in the rays of the setting sun—transforming the campus into something out of a fairy tale.

A chilly wind rustled the branches, sending cascades of yellow leaves drifting down. Li Fu strolled slowly, a book in hand, savoring the rare beauty around him.

Li Fu was a junior in the School of Biomedical Sciences at Yanhuang University. Hailing from a rural background and struggling with poverty, he was an unremarkable presence among the many talented students—his looks plain, his demeanor modest, with little to make him stand out. Perhaps only his academic performance was something to be proud of.

Of course, this was partly because, by the university years, most students had relaxed considerably. Some were busy having fun, some preoccupied with romance, and others chasing their dreams. Few spent their time studying with true diligence.

Only someone like Li Fu, coming from the countryside to the great city of the capital, would feel compelled to devote himself to his studies. Surrounded by confident peers, he hoped that academic achievement might offer him a little more self-assurance or at least some modest capital with which to bolster his confidence.

After all, Li Fu was all too ordinary—neither handsome nor wealthy, lacking talents like singing or playing guitar. To thrive in the vibrant life of the university seemed almost impossible for him, so he devoted his energy and time to his studies.

“The sunset is beautiful, but dusk is near,” he sighed, gazing at the campus bathed in golden light. Now in the latter half of his junior year, the pressure of impending graduation weighed heavily on him.

Li Fu was forced to consider his future: should he pursue further study—graduate school, perhaps even a doctorate—or step into the workforce and contribute to the Republic’s development? There were many factors to ponder.

If he chose to continue his studies, his excellent grades would make admission no obstacle; except for government-sponsored overseas programs, which were hard to secure, he could easily enter any domestic university. His own university’s biomedical program was among the very best in the country, so staying on was a viable option.

Furthermore, those wishing to excel in biomedical sciences typically sought further study, either abroad or domestically.

More than half of his classmates had already chosen to go abroad, most supported by affluent families. Studying and later working overseas, gaining foreign citizenship—this was the dream of many. Even those who returned home after their studies were regarded as talent polished by international experience, outshining those who had never left.

But for Li Fu, studying abroad was simply impossible. He knew his family’s situation all too well: his parents had toiled as farmers all their lives, barely scraping together enough to support both Li Fu and his younger brother, Li Xing, through university. How could there possibly be money for foreign study?

As for government-funded programs, they were even harder to obtain. The Republic of Huaxia had grown less supportive of sending students abroad, as too many talents, painstakingly cultivated, never returned. The nation was no longer willing to make such costly sacrifices.

“Staying in the country isn’t so bad. Our nation’s technology is advancing rapidly; we’re not far behind the world anymore.” With no prospect of going abroad, Li Fu could only console himself with such thoughts. Diligently learning from his mentors at home, he would still have a promising future.

As he admired the campus and slowly made his way to his dormitory, he noticed how few people were walking alone like him. Most moved in pairs, and the setting sun stretched Li Fu’s solitary shadow long and thin, highlighting his loneliness.

As a member of the “single dog” club, Li Fu naturally yearned for a life of companionship. Yet in this society, everything hinged on economic foundations.

Each month, his living expenses were calculated down to the last cent. He had no money left over for romance. Even something as simple as dinner and a movie seemed a luxury. Lacking confidence, he didn’t dare pursue the girls he liked, and so he remained forever single.

Watching couples laughing and chatting as they walked through campus, Li Fu sometimes shook his head with a sigh, then lowered his gaze and quickened his pace, hurrying back to his dorm to avoid further pain.

In Dormitory 222, Li Fu opened the door to find the room quiet and empty. Of the four roommates, only Li Fu was still single; the others had girlfriends. At this hour, they were likely out with them or attending various club activities, not to return until after ten.

With a shake of his head, Li Fu sat at his desk and opened his computer, starting to practice computer programming—his longtime hobby since his freshman year.

He had designed small programs and simple games, which was why he loved programming; it was like creating an entirely new world, one that operated exactly as he designed. The sense of accomplishment was impossible to describe without experiencing it firsthand.

Computer programming was his minor, and his skills were considerable—he had invested much effort and was better than many computer science majors. Most of his time in the dorm was spent programming.

He filled the hot water bottles for the room, brewed himself a pot of tea, and began typing away at the keyboard, fingers flying as lines of code flashed across the screen. Occasionally, he would pause to ponder a difficult problem, sip his tea when fatigued, stretch his fingers, or stand to move around.

When one focuses intently on something, time flies. In what seemed like moments, night had fallen, the city’s lights were ablaze, and the dormmates who had spent the day out were returning one after another.

“Li Fu, still working on code?” The first to return was Zhao Dongye, a native of the capital from a family of high-ranking officials. He was active in campus organizations, had a wide social circle, and was always busy with various events.

“Yeah. Out drinking again?” Li Fu took off his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and prepared to rest. The smell of alcohol wafted from Zhao Dongye; he had clearly drunk more than a little.

“We were seeing off last year’s student council president, so I drank a bit too much. Time really flies—suddenly we’re juniors. By this time next year, we’ll be graduating, and that’s not a happy thought.”

Zhao Dongye’s cheeks were flushed, his speech slurred with the stench of alcohol.

“Go wash your face. I’ve already filled the hot water. Get some sleep—you reek of booze.” Li Fu frowned and shook his head. Zhao Dongye loved socializing and had many friends, so Li Fu had often had to drag him back from dinners and bars. Tonight was better; at least Zhao got himself home, so he probably wasn’t too drunk.

“It’s freezing out there—much warmer in here!” At that moment, two more figures entered—Wang Wanli and Qian Jin, Li Fu’s other two roommates.

Wang Wanli was from the Magic City, his parents businesspeople with considerable means. He was something of a snob, particular about brands that Li Fu had never even heard of, and looked down on Li Fu for his poor, rural background.

Qian Jin was the only son of a real estate tycoon, fabulously wealthy and extremely handsome—a famous playboy with a new girlfriend as often as a new shirt. He seldom stayed in the dorm, so his appearance tonight was unusual.

Four roommates, four backgrounds, four different lives. The university was a magical place, bringing together young people from all walks of society to play out the drama of youth.

PS: Old Niu has started a new book! Those familiar with Old Niu know that his previous work, “The Great Han Technological Empire,” ran for over a year without a break—two chapters per day, 6000 words minimum, with occasional bonuses. Updates are as steady as ever, and the writing is reliable—no need to hesitate. This time, it’s another story of a descendant of Yan and Huang conquering the universe. Hope you enjoy it!