"A charge of 26.20 yuan was made from your account ending in 1150 at 2:28 PM on April 29 for a TenPay purchase at the Youlin Convenience Store in Xiahai City's Tianjiang District. Your available balance is 574.51 yuan."
Fang Zhen sat in the chair before his computer at home. The PC was on, its case humming. On the desk, a lamp cast a warm, yellow glow.
Fang Zhen looked at the debit notification on his phone and shook his head.
He tapped open the Bee Wealth app on his phone and transferred 1,000 yuan from his investment balance to his bank card.
Soon, a crisp notification chime sounded. Without looking, Fang Zhen placed his phone on the computer desk and leaned back in his chair.
'Let's see, I have 1,574 yuan on my card now, and another 17,000 in my investment account. I also heard the currency might devalue, so I exchanged 20,000 yuan for US dollars through my banking app. The rest is tied up in other projects and I can't access it on short notice. So my total liquid assets are a little over 38,000 yuan?'
'If I'm careful, that should last me six or seven months, right?'
Fang Zhen did the math. 'Feels a little tight.'
A wave of melancholy washed over Fang Zhen, so he decided to stop thinking about it.
The computer was running. The monitor's desktop was clean, with only five icons. Fang Zhen just sat there, staring blankly, his thoughts drifting.
Ever since he decided to become a freelancer twelve years ago, Fang Zhen had repeatedly faced this kind of situation.
Being a freelancer was certainly free. He could set his own schedule. If he wanted to work, he worked. If he wanted to play games or binge-watch shows, he could do that too. He didn't have to listen to anyone or be managed by anyone, much less get chewed out by a boss. And he didn't have to deal with complicated office politics.
Fang Zhen found it quite comfortable.
But the profession had its other side.
Ever since choosing this career path, he had frequently faced financial crises. He had to force himself to be disciplined, and he'd feel anxious whenever he didn't have at least a year's worth of living expenses saved up. Over time, this anxiety had become so commonplace it was practically a habit.
Fang Zhen had his glory days. He was a hard worker, and at his peak, he could make around 70,000 yuan a month. But the nature of his profession was that there was no ceiling, and also no floor. When money was good, he earned a lot. When it was bad, he might go three to five months with little to no income. Fortunately, he could live off his savings, and completed projects would continue to generate small, unpredictable streams of revenue.
For the past two months, Fang Zhen had been in a slump while trying to transition in his career. His savings were plummeting, causing him to lose hair, suffer from insomnia, and even gain weight from the stress.
'This won't do. I need to find some way to make money. I can't just sit here and burn through my savings.'
Fang Zhen wanted to do something, but he didn't have any good leads at the moment.
He subconsciously picked up his phone and scrolled through the contacts on his messaging app, but for a moment, he didn't know who to talk to.
Realizing this, Fang Zhen's thoughts began to drift and churn again, perhaps out of professional habit.
Back in his student days, Fang Zhen's mind had always been active. During his young and reckless years, he'd even said things like he wanted to be the ruler of the blue planet. But time had flown by. It felt like he was getting old before he'd even had a chance to grow up.
'When I was a kid, I always thought adults were boring, that all they cared about was money. It doesn't feel like that many years have passed, but now it seems I've become one of them.'
There were plenty of acquaintances in his messaging app's contact list, but Fang Zhen felt he had nothing to talk to them about.
By choosing the path of a freelancer, his life trajectory and experiences had diverged too much from his old classmates'. They just couldn't connect anymore.
Fang Zhen stared blankly at his computer.
Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him.
He picked up the phone and answered.
"Hello, this is the delivery company. Is anyone home? We have a package for you," a voice said over the phone.
"Yes, I'm here. Come on up," Fang Zhen said.
"Okay."
The call ended, and Fang Zhen stood up.
'I haven't bought anything recently,' Fang Zhen thought, puzzled about what could have arrived.
A few minutes later, the apartment buzzer rang. Fang Zhen unlocked the door and called the elevator, which soon arrived on the seventh floor.
"Mr. Fang? Your delivery." A courier was holding a large cardboard box that looked quite heavy.
Fang Zhen nodded and accepted the package.
After the courier left, Fang Zhen looked at the cardboard box by the door. He tested its weight; it was pretty heavy.
Fang Zhen was sure he hadn't bought anything this big, nor would anyone send him such a heavy item. In fact, not many people even knew his home address.
'Whatever. Xiahai City is safe enough. It's not like someone would mail me something dangerous. It's fine, I'll just see what it is.'
Fang Zhen picked up the box cutter he kept by the door for opening packages, sliced through the tape, and opened the box.
"Huh?"
Inside the cardboard box was a computer tower and two black cylinders that looked metallic but were very light, resembling black smart speakers.
'A computer?' Fang Zhen's interest was piqued.
Due to his profession, Fang Zhen spent a lot of time on his computer every day—probably more than he spent on his phone—so he knew a fair bit about them.
The PC case before him was entirely black, with a stylish, custom polygonal design. The material was exceptional; it looked like metal but was very light. The side panel resembled obsidian, giving it a premium feel.
Fang Zhen knew that with computers, it's the specs that matter. But just based on the appearance of this PC case, he figured the components inside had to be worth at least 20,000 yuan.
"All about the aesthetics, huh?" Fang Zhen smiled.
'But who would mail me such a high-end computer?'
He lifted the case out of the box and suddenly noticed an envelope at the bottom. Written on it were the words "To Fang Zhen."
Fang Zhen picked up the envelope and began to read.
Gradually, a look of surprise appeared on Fang Zhen's face.
'A letter from Xiao Yi?'
An image of a hearty, sincere, smiling face surfaced in Fang Zhen's mind.
Xiao Yi had been one of Fang Zhen's best friends back when he was in his early twenties.
Of everyone Fang Zhen knew, Xiao Yi was one of a kind.
Xiao Yi's way of life was different from most people's, and not something the average person could imitate.
Back then, Xiao Yi lived out of hotels year-round. He never bought a house or a car. He would work for a while, save up enough money, and then quit on the spot to travel the world. Whenever you called him, he'd either be in Bianzang or on the Southern Border. The next time you'd hear from him, he'd be in Istanbul. He always said that time moved too fast and life was too short, so you had to experience as much as possible.
Xiao Yi was incredibly handsome—the kind of handsome that made women stare, unable to look away.
But Fang Zhen had never seen Xiao Yi with a girlfriend, nor had he ever heard anyone talk about his love life.
Xiao Yi had once said that he thought romance was fine, he just didn't have the time for it. He was more interested in seeing the penguins in Antarctica, the tundra in the Arctic, and experiencing the climb up the Bess Mountains.
Fang Zhen was very fond of his friend Xiao Yi. To a certain extent, he just found him to be a truly special person.
In truth, Fang Zhen knew that this friend was living out a part of his own dream.
Fang Zhen also wanted to live such a free and unrestrained life, but he could never bring himself to be that detached.
He still needed money, security, life's comforts, and a stable life in his old age.
This was probably what most people wanted, after all.
In comparison, Fang Zhen felt he could never learn to live like Xiao Yi.
But he deeply admired Xiao Yi. Although he sometimes worried about his friend's future, deep down, Fang Zhen wanted to bless him. He had no desire to interfere or disturb his life. He felt that people born like that had their own path laid out for them by fate, and it was best not to interfere, but simply to admire them from the heart.
Many years passed. Fang Zhen's own life went through its own twists and turns, and somehow, he lost contact with Xiao Yi. By his count, it had been six or seven years since he'd last heard any news of him.
Fang Zhen's thoughts returned to the present. Looking at the letter in his hand, he had a strange premonition.
It felt like something extraordinary was about to happen.
He unfolded the letter.
"Fang Zhen, hello.
It's been a few years. How is your life now? What stage have you reached?
I still feel happy when I think about how we used to talk about everything.
I remember you once told me that you also wanted a different kind of life. You said the real world was too ordinary, and that great wealth was just another form of boredom—glamorous in the eyes of others, but whether you were truly happy was something only you would know.
You said you weren't very interested in that, but if there was a real opportunity for an exciting, adventurous life that would make you feel you hadn't lived in vain, you would give up everything you have to take it.
I don't know if you still remember saying that.
In the past few years, I've accidentally experienced some things. By the time you read this letter, I may already be in an extraordinary situation and won't be able to see you for a while.
It's very likely we will never meet again in this lifetime.
You're the friend I could always talk to the most. Before the situation I'm facing becomes completely uncontrollable, I want to send you a gift. Consider it a final token from a distant, dear friend.
The gift has been sent along with this letter.
Perhaps this gift can fulfill your most fervent hopes for life.
I hope you can live the life you've always wanted.
—Xiao Yi."
After reading the letter, Fang Zhen was flooded with a torrent of emotions: surprise, shock, nostalgia, curiosity, and confusion.
His gaze fell upon the cool, black computer tower.
'This is Xiao Yi's final gift?'
'What happened to him?'
'Can this computer really change my life?'
————
This world is a parallel world that is 90% similar to reality, but it is not Earth. Any differences in the names of brands, laws, people, books, vehicles, etc., are not bugs; it's just how things are there.