After autumn arrived, Xia City became a kingdom of crows.
These ugly yet intelligent creatures were the true masters of the city. They gathered in flocks on roadside trees, mocking passersby with their hoarse, monotonous cries:
"Caw, caw—may misfortune befall you!"
At times, they would even show off their superb flying skills beneath the spoke-shaped clouds overhead.
Most pedestrians looked as though they were in mourning. They stared with resentment at the dark shadows circling in the sky, as well as the strange cloud formations looming even higher above.
Since the latter half of September, the skies over Xia City had been shrouded in this kind of cloud and haze. In less than a week, there had been six earthquakes of around magnitude 3, three of magnitude 4, and two of magnitude 5.
Although the magnitude and intensity of the quakes had not yet reached the city's limits of tolerance, the people's fragile hearts had already begun to falter.
More than half of the sound and electromagnetic signals coursing through Xia City's airwaves seemed to be shouting at the top of their lungs:
"Earthquake clouds! Earthquake clouds!"
In an age of civilization on the brink of entering the 22nd century, this so-called "folk science" concept was being openly discussed by experts and scholars alike, even appearing across mainstream media.
Luo Nan was inevitably affected.
As he stepped off the low-altitude bus, his ever-present black leather notebook in hand, the bracelet on his wrist vibrated. Once the connection was established, his aunt, Madam Luo Shuqing, spoke:
"Come home tonight. Your uncle has already prepared dinner."
Because of the recent string of earthquakes, his aunt—who had once allowed him to live independently—had abruptly torn up their agreement and repeatedly insisted that he move back in, saying she would take care of him.
Luo Nan absolutely could not agree. He had worked so hard to get into Acumen College—wasn't it all for the sake of independence and freedom? More importantly, this was a critical moment. If he lost even a single day, who knew what the consequences might be?
The problem was that Luo Nan had never been good with words. His reasoning lacked any real persuasiveness. The situation grew increasingly tense, and he could almost feel his aunt reaching through the call, ready to drag him back home.
Luo Nan had a headache when he received the message. He only skimmed its contents before sighing inwardly at his "good luck." He quickly added another excuse:
"I have to study today. Tomorrow, I have an interview with a society…"
"Interview? Which club?"
"Uh, the Mystical Arts Research Society."
"Mystical arts?"
Luo Shuqing sounded a little suspicious. Soon, she called out:
"Moya, Moya!"
Not long after, a slightly hoarse voice joined the call, carrying a uniquely lazy tone. It was Luo Nan's older cousin, Mo Ya, who had graduated from Acumen College the previous year.
"The Mystical Arts Research Society? I know it. They're said to be very rich, and the people there are quite willful."
Luo Shuqing couldn't stand her daughter's tone and immediately reprimanded her. "Speak properly!"
Mo Ya laughed. "No matter how nicely I put it, your 'biological son' isn't doing well either. It's only been a month since school started, and he's still stuck at the interview stage. He's clearly not sociable! Acumen College emphasizes integration of East and West, and their Western-style system is strict. Without club participation, they'll cut your credits first. And when it comes to advancing or finding a mentor, the school's recommendation letter definitely won't say anything good…"
Her words, fanning the flames, instantly ignited another mother-daughter argument. The focus of the conflict shifted, and Luo Nan—over a hundred kilometers away—escaped unscathed.
At this moment, Luo Nan had already been standing in his living room for nearly half an hour. The sky had darkened, and the lights turned on automatically, casting his reflection onto the window of the high-rise building across the street.
He gave a command, and the curtains began to close.
Just then, a black shadow slipped through the narrowing gap and landed on the open balcony. It used its thick beak to nudge open the sliding glass door and swaggered inside with ease.
This uninvited guest was a typical bald crow. Aside from the base of its ash-white beak, its entire body was jet-black. It looked sturdy and robust, slightly larger than other crows of its kind. Under the soft lighting, its feathers shimmered between deep black and dark blue.
The crow paced around before flapping its wings and hopping onto the coffee table. Leaning forward, it dropped a sealed glass test tube—about the size of a thumb—from its beak. Most of the tube was filled with white powder.
After expelling the object from its throat, the crow seemed much more comfortable. It cleared its throat ostentatiously:
"Screech! Screech!"
"Ink, shut up!"
The crow's cry was unbearable in the enclosed space. Luo Nan scolded it, then picked up the test tube to clean it. After that, he took out a strip of cooked meat he had prepared and stuffed it into the crow's beak.
Despite its name, Ink was surprisingly well-mannered while eating. It even used its wings to gesture for Luo Nan to pour it a cup of water.
Dinner was already set on the nearby dining table. It bore all the hallmarks of home AI cooking—dull in color, smell, and taste—but at least the portions were generous. It was enough to feed three to five people. Luo Nan displayed an almost superhuman appetite, eating at remarkable speed. He finished at the same time as Ink.
Once full, Ink hopped down, slipped back through the sliding door, and flew off into the night.
Luo Nan tidied up the dishes and was about to head to the study when his wristband vibrated again. This time, it was Mo Ya.
Like her mother, she opened bluntly:
"How are you going to thank me this time?"
"Uh… thanks, sis."
"Pfft. You never change!"
Knowing Luo Nan was poor with words, she didn't tease him further and got straight to the point.
"That Mystical Arts Research Society—was it recommended to you, or did you choose it yourself?"
"I chose it myself…"
"Do you even know what kind of place it is?"
After thinking for a moment, Luo Nan replied simply, "It's half society, half research institute. It's privately funded, quite powerful, and has a high degree of autonomy from the school."
Mo Ya sneered. "Sounds great, doesn't it?"
Luo Nan didn't know how to respond.
She continued, "It's basically a playground for rich kids. The core members form their own circle, messing around with bizarre research to pass the time. Ordinary students just do odd jobs there. It looks impressive, but it has nothing to do with real academics or skills…"
"You can conduct experiments there," Luo Nan interrupted.
Mo Ya dragged out her response. "Oh? So your experiments are getting more and more extreme. But bro, if you want to experiment, you should join a physics or chemistry society."
"They require an internship period," Luo Nan replied calmly. "I already obtained the relevant qualifications in middle school. There's no need to repeat it."
"And this society doesn't?"
"No. I checked the introduction and the school forum. It's the only society where freshmen can conduct independent experiments freely. Many involve psychotropic drugs. That's exactly what I need."
Mo Ya scoffed. "Odd-job workers conducting free experiments?"
"Maybe skilled workers can. If the boss is an amateur, even better."
For once, Mo Ya was left speechless. A few seconds later, she said:
"Fine, Mr. Skilled Worker. Just remember—if you switch societies at Acumen College, you'll be labeled a misfit. For the next four years… no, actually eight years, since you're starting early—you'll have plenty of time to regret it."
"Oh."
His indifferent response made her scoff again. "Alright, let's talk about your payment."
"Payment?"
"I practically took a bullet for you, and all I get is a 'thanks'?"
"What do you want?"
"Lend me your apartment for a night. I'm throwing a small party."
Luo Nan hesitated. "When?"
"The 15th of next month. That's… about 20 days."
"19 days."
"…Fine, 19 days. You don't need to prepare anything. Just hide those embarrassing things and move them out. I'll handle the rest."
After a brief calculation, Luo Nan nodded. "That should be fine. But give me a reminder five days in advance."
"You're so difficult. Deal."
Mo Ya hung up. Luo Nan frowned slightly, already thinking about the hassle of relocating his equipment in 19 days.
Still, he was grateful. Without Mo Ya covering for him all these years, how could he have continued his dangerous experiments under his aunt's watch?
Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts aside.
It was now September 26, 2096, 19:22. The inefficient daytime had passed, and Luo Nan welcomed the quiet, precious hours of the night.
He entered the study. A black leather case stood upright on the desk, somewhat conspicuous in size.
After entering his fingerprint and password, the case opened with a soft hiss. The neatly arranged tools inside unfolded layer by layer like blooming petals, locking into place.
In an instant, the desk transformed into a compact but complete workstation.
Luo Nan retrieved a portable medical cooler from the bookcase and placed it on the desk. Inside were sealed pharmaceutical materials. After confirming everything was in order, he added the white powder Ink had delivered.
Now, everything needed for the night's work was prepared—at least, everything he could obtain.
He took a deep breath and opened a hidden compartment, pulling out an old brown notebook.
It resembled the one he carried daily—both were loose-leaf—but this one was worn with age. The cover was slightly swollen and stained with ink, lacking any modern e-ink display.
He set aside his usual notebook and carefully opened the old one.
At the center of the title page was a precise hand-drawn diagram: a tetrahedron with both an inscribed and circumscribed sphere, forming a flawless geometric structure.
Below it were four short sentences, written in messy handwriting:
My heart is a prison. My heart is a furnace.
My heart is a mirror. My heart is a nation.
Luo Nan couldn't claim to fully understand their meaning, but each time he saw them, his thoughts settled, and his mind returned to calm.
After a brief pause, he flipped through the pages, searching for notes on pharmaceutical preparation. Soon, he was fully immersed in dense text and complex molecular formulas.
"Weakening, substitution, simplification… Grandpa, help me out…"
Time passed quickly as he murmured to himself.
Outside, lights flickered on and off. Luo Nan moved between notebook and apparatus, adding ingredients step by step. During slower reactions, he took a brief nap—about two hours.
At 3:15 a.m., the liquid in the reaction vessel began boiling violently after the final drop was added. Its color slowly shifted.
Luo Nan watched closely, ensuring the reaction met his expectations. Only after two minutes did he stretch his stiff neck and begin cleaning up, quietly reciting:
"Dimethyltryptamine stock: 0. Cathinone stock: 0. Medroxyfenam: 2 milligrams. Cetilistat: 5 milligrams…"
His personal notebook's e-ink screen flickered as the inventory updated automatically.
After about half an hour of cleaning and sorting containers, the workstation was restored to order.
The light green liquid gradually cooled. Luo Nan confirmed that the night's effort had not been wasted.
However, a note in the brown notebook read:
"Multiple peripheral neuritis observed in q-11r. Allergic symptoms in q-27r—near death. Other subjects normal… Substitution effect confirmed. Side effects uncertain."
Luo Nan shook his head.
With some time to spare, he logged onto the Occult Orb forum. Despite the hour, discussions were lively—centered on Xia City's recent earthquakes.
Various theories circulated: tectonic resonance, energy leakage, even secret corporate experiments.
Luo Nan ignored them. He only cared about two things:
Would the earthquakes affect his experiments?
And would they push his aunt to force him home?
When he attempted to log into a restricted section, a notification appeared:
"Access denied. Please request administrator verification."
He sighed, remembering—he had been banned. The reason was simple: in these tense times, all purchase posts were treated as suspicious.
The real issue wasn't the ban—it was losing access to his drug supply.
Given his dwindling stock, he wouldn't be able to continue for long. And as a minor, purchasing controlled substances legally was impossible.
Did he really have to turn to the black market?
Compared to dealing with criminals, joining the Mystical Arts Research Society suddenly seemed far more reasonable.
Just then, the liquid finished cooling.
Luo Nan cleared his thoughts, transferred the solution into a needleless syringe, and injected it into his upper arm without hesitation.
His expression never changed.
Afterward, he meticulously cleaned everything, restored the equipment, and hid the notebook. Once done, he went to wash up.
At exactly 4:00 a.m., dressed in a sports hoodie and carrying his ever-present notebook, Luo Nan stepped out for his unwavering daily run.