Spring of 1965 arrived slowly in an old alley of Four-Nine City, a narrow place known as South Alley Lane. The wind was still cold enough to sting the bones. Even though the season had changed, winter refused to leave.
Leon Ford stood outside the small, worn-out house that he now called home. The walls were cracked and discolored, decorated with fading portraits of great leaders. Every window had layers of newspapers pasted over them to block the cold, but somehow the wind still slipped through the gaps.
His cotton coat was patched in several places, thin from years of use. When he lowered his head to look at it, the rough fabric reminded him of reality. He let out a soft, helpless sigh.
"It's been one whole year since I came to this era…" Leon muttered, smiling bitterly.
A full year had passed since he—once a man of the 21st century—found himself transported to the year 1965. When he had first awakened in this world and realized he was in Nanluoguxiang, he had naively believed he had entered the same world as those old courtyard drama stories he used to watch. He expected to find iconic characters and familiar plots.
But the truth disappointed him.
There were no dramatic neighbors, no thick-skinned comedic troublemakers, no tricky thieves. This was not a fictional courtyard-world. This was the real 1965—harsh, hungry, and filled with simple people struggling to survive.
Leon soon learned that his new identity was a 19-year-old college student, a genuine top-ranking one who studied mechanical equipment manufacturing. Unlike typical "bookworms," his predecessor had excellent hands-on skills. He was especially good at precision machining, so much so that he had already earned a seventh-level benchwork certificate while still in school.
When he graduated, he was assigned to the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill as a seventh-level fitter—a respected job with a monthly salary of 84.5 yuan, an amount that made him stand out in an era where people struggled to feed themselves. Many girls—and even many enthusiastic aunts—had flocked to ask about him, hoping to arrange a marriage.
But when Leon realized this world was not a fictional story but the real, sensitive era of the 1960s, he wisely changed his approach. He buried his modern thoughts deep inside and focused fully on blending into society, working hard and keeping his head down. Over the past year, he had been praised multiple times as a model worker, a title he worked very hard to earn.
But even as he succeeded, he lived cautiously—terrified that one wrong comment or gesture might make people suspicious. In a time where political sensitivity ruled every corner of life, being even slightly unusual could get a person denounced or arrested. And Leon knew that a huge storm was only a year away—a movement that would sweep across the whole country. If he wasn't careful, he could easily find himself labeled and dragged into endless criticism.
Still, after a year of living carefully, Leon had fully adapted. He spoke, acted, and worked exactly like someone born in 1965. Nobody suspected him.
He breathed warm air onto his hands and rubbed them together.
"This era… maybe it isn't so bad. The material life is poor, yes, but the people are simple. There's no pressure like the 21st century, no endless competition. Everyone is genuinely honest."
With practiced skill, he lit the small iron stove in the corner, added a briquette, and started boiling water. For breakfast, he prepared a simple porridge, a steamed bun, and a small dish of homemade pickles.
It was nothing fancy, yet in 1965 this was more than what most families could afford regularly. He only dared to eat a meal like this when no one was watching. Showing "excessive wealth" in this era was dangerous.
He sat at the small wooden table, blowing gently on the warm porridge.
"After saving money for a whole year," Leon whispered to himself, "maybe it's time to find a good wife and build a family."
His thoughts had changed immensely. He no longer dreamed of returning to the future or chasing impossible fantasies. Now, he wanted something simple—a peaceful life, a kind woman, and a stable home.
Thanks to his job and excellent skills, he had saved 689 yuan and 25 cents. He also bought the famous three treasures every man needed if he wanted to marry—a watch, a bicycle, and a sewing machine.
In 1965, these three items were symbols of status. With them, Leon was considered one of the most desirable bachelors in the area.
After finishing his breakfast, he closed the stove, sat comfortably on a sturdy chair, and sipped bitter tea, occasionally spitting out a stray tea leaf.
There was no workplace pressure, no constant demands from bosses, no competition that drained the soul. Compared to the chaos of his original world, this life felt relaxing.
"I really like this era more and more…"
He glanced at the old quartz clock hanging on the wall. It was already past seven in the morning.
He inhaled deeply.
"It's time."
Leon placed both hands in his pockets and spoke silently in his mind:
"Civilization Search System, begin today's civilization search."
A mechanical voice rang through his head:
'Ding. Civilization Search System activated.
Would you like to begin a civilization search?'
A simple, floating panel appeared before his eyes. There was only one button—SEARCH.
This was the only "cheat ability" he gained after transmigrating.
Civilization Search System
As its name suggested, the system could search for science fiction civilizations from Leon's previous life. If it successfully found one, Leon could extract one piece of technology from that world.
It sounded incredible.
Theoretically, this meant Leon could extract technology from:
Inception
Ready Player One
The Wandering Earth
Interstellar
Black Hole frequency
The Matrix
Ant-scale civilizations
And countless other sci-fi creations
Any advanced technology—AI, dream machines, future weapons, space travel—might be possible.
But in practice…
It was miserable.
The system had no functions other than "search."
It could only search for pure science fiction, nothing from mythology, martial arts, fantasy, cultivation, magic, or supernatural genres.
And worst of all…
Leon had extremely bad luck.
He had searched every single day for the past year.
Not even once had it found a civilization.
No light.
No reward.
Not even a tiny hint.
Leon pressed the SEARCH button anyway.
'Ding. Searching… Search complete. No civilization found.'
It finished instantly—just like always.
Leon sighed.
"I knew it… same result every time."
The most painful part, he thought, was that even if the system did give him something amazing, he couldn't use it. Not in 1965. Not in this sensitive era.
Taking out any futuristic object would be too dangerous.
Just as he was thinking about his unlucky fate—
Boom, boom, boom.
Someone knocked on the door.
Leon tightened his cotton coat and opened it.
A middle-aged woman from the neighborhood smiled kindly.
"Leon, your Aunt Wang is here again. She wants to introduce you to a girl! You're lucky—this one is supposed to be pretty!"
Leon blinked.
A blind date… again?
His quiet life was about to change.