Chapter 1: Across a Thousand Years

On a stifling, oppressive day that only began to cool in the late evening, Gu Xinyao returned home in clothes already soaked through by sweat more times than she could count. It was one o’clock in the morning. As she opened the door, darkness greeted her; the emptiness of the lifeless apartment pressed upon her exhausted body, and a wave of inexplicable despair surged in her heart. Her parents had left her ten years ago; for a decade, she had never stopped searching for a glimmer of happiness, yet it was that simplest happiness which proved to be the hardest to attain. Once she understood this, she no longer focused all her attention on the pursuit of happiness, but let things take their course, pouring herself instead into her work.

She had worked for five years now, diligent and conscientious, and finally, her efforts bore fruit. A year ago, she was promoted to chief engineer of her company’s power department, with a clear increase in her salary. These days, she had everything except a happy family—she could be said to lack nothing else—yet still, happiness eluded her.

Entering the apartment, she switched on the wall lamp and closed the door behind her, shutting out both the stifling heat and the chill. Once again, she told herself to persevere—happiness was not far ahead. It was as if she had wandered through the desert; she collapsed bonelessly onto the sofa and, on a whim, switched on the answering machine.

Beep—

“Xiao Gu, it’s been years. I’m back. Let’s catch up sometime.” The high-pitched male voice made her ponder for a long while, but she couldn’t match it to anyone she knew. Who could it be? Her work-numbed mind had long since filtered out anything unrelated to her job, let alone an inconsequential person.

“Xiao Liu, there’s a class reunion next Sunday—don’t forget to come!” The next message was from a woman, a roommate from university whom she had just reconnected with days ago—her bunkmate, if she recalled rightly. Was her name Zhi?

She tapped her forehead, but truly could not remember. She had to admit, it was impressive that others remembered her at all, even tracking down her work address, all for a reunion.

The message wasn’t over; apparently, there was something confidential to be said. After a pause, the woman lowered her voice: “Xiao Liu, I’ve got good news. That guy you used to have a crush on—he’s back too, and he’s still single. He’s coming to the reunion, and he even asked for your number. Don’t blame me for giving it to him—you’re not getting any younger. Time to find someone…” After a string of intimate words, the chatter finally ceased.

Gu Xinyao rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on from her friend’s words. The man with the high-pitched voice—she remembered now. He was a senior she’d liked in university. Who hadn’t been enamored with beauty in their youth? He had been her adolescent infatuation. But as she entered society and met more people, she realized how naïve she’d been—what was there to like in a man who was all surface and no substance? She was glad that her youthful insecurity had kept her from confessing her feelings. At graduation, she learned he was two-timing and involved with a wealthy woman, and she gave up on him altogether.

She hadn’t expected him to remember her after so many years—it was almost amusing. But she was no longer the naive girl she once was.

The smell of sweat on her body was unbearable. No matter how tired she was, she still needed a shower. Summoning the last of her strength, she stood and made her way to the bedroom. On the cabinet, a family portrait of three greeted her: a young couple and a girl in her teens, whose face beamed with happiness.

She lingered a moment, her gaze pausing on the young couple—her parents. When she was sixteen, a car accident had taken them from her. It was the day of her middle school graduation. She had waited at school for them to attend the ceremony, but instead was met by police officers who took her to see her parents one last time.

She could still recall the blood-stained faces of her parents, free from pain and almost serene. Her mother, on the hospital bed, still wore a loving smile as she said, “Live happily, and find your own happiness.”

Her father only had time to grasp her hand, his lips moving faintly, before he could no longer hold on. She had been so shocked that she forgot to cry, forgot to beg them to stay.

By the time she regained her senses, her parents were gone, leaving her only her mother’s final words and the home in which she now lived.

“Mom, you asked me to live happily, and I’ve done that. But I haven’t found my happiness.” Her fingers traced her mother’s elegant face longingly. A chill crept up her arm, and before she knew it, tears spilled down her cheeks. Ten years of growing up alone—only she knew how hard she had tried to fulfill her mother’s dying wish.

She wiped her tears, took a towel and pajamas from the cabinet, and went into the bathroom.

Not long after, the sound of running water filled the bathroom. At that moment, the faces of the young couple in the photograph on the cabinet seemed to curve into mysterious smiles, as though something extraordinary was about to happen—though Gu Xinyao, now in the shower, saw none of this.

Beep—

“Chief Gu, this is Xiao Chen from the secretariat. There’s a problem with the batch of motors we received last month, and the director asked me to inform you that tomorrow’s testing is canceled. The director is attending a provincial commendation tomorrow and won’t be at the lab, so you can take a day off.” The answering machine, still running, clicked softly at the end of the message—the tape had reached its end.

Soon, the water stopped. Gu Xinyao, clad in a white cotton bathrobe, stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a large towel as she sat on the sofa. She thought she’d heard the phone earlier. She pressed the answering machine and found the tape had run out—perhaps the previous messages had used it up. She replaced the tape with a new one, amused at how a few messages could exhaust the whole reel. Things these days just weren’t made to last.

Drowsiness overtook her. She stood up and walked toward the bedroom, thinking about the batch of motors she’d have to test the next day—she might not get any decent sleep for days. Being a power engineer was no easy task. She had only herself to care for, but the older engineers, with families to support, worked themselves to the bone and still got complaints at home. She supposed she could take on more work—no one was waiting for her at home, anyway.

The next day, the relentless heat transformed the entire city of Jingjiang into a giant steamer, let alone for those who had to work in such conditions.

Gu Xinyao arrived at the lab at eight in the morning. The room was empty and silent. She checked her watch—it was already 8:20. Normally, the director would have arrived by now. What could be the matter today? She waited a bit longer, but the quiet outside suggested no one was coming. Still, she set to work; she had never been one to perform for her superiors—she’d do her job, regardless.

She changed into her work clothes—a sky-blue uniform, providing at least the illusion of coolness. She approached a motor taller than herself, its packaging still partly intact. She tore away the insulating plastic wrap, revealing the brand-new equipment. Plugging it into a prepared socket, she walked to the circuit breaker and switched it on. The motor roared to life.

She frowned. The FG1005 model shouldn’t sound like this. Moving closer, she observed the meshing of the bearings. As the first to handle the motor, it was her duty to ensure it ran properly before it could be safely put into production—any oversight could lead to immense losses, even casualties.

Just as she neared the rotating components, a spark suddenly shot out. She had no time to dodge. A violent screech rose, and a blinding white light leapt up, taller than a person, enveloping her completely. The light seemed to open a maw, swallowing her whole. When the light faded, silence returned. The motor stopped. On the floor, only Gu Xinyao’s watch remained—nothing else indicated she had ever been there.

Moments later, the lab door burst open. A young man hurried in. He’d heard an abnormal sound from the machinery—far too loud to be normal. Testing was supposed to be canceled, so how could anyone be here?

Inside, he found the motor still plugged in but motionless, standing intact. He strode over—the machine was fine, with no sign of damage. Had he imagined the sound? But clearly, the machine had been switched on. As he turned, something at his feet caught his attention—a woman’s watch. It looked familiar. He picked it up and examined it—a sudden realization dawned. It belonged to Gu Xinyao.

“Gu Xinyao! Gu Xinyao, are you here?” he called out, his voice echoing through the empty lab. No answer.

***

“Ah—” At the instant she was struck by electricity, Gu Xinyao realized she hadn’t lived enough—life was still long, and she hadn’t found her own happiness. But it was too late. The white current seared through her; pain followed, then unconsciousness. In the haze, she seemed to hear her mother’s gentle, familiar voice: “Good child, I’ve secured happiness for you. Be sure to seize it, cherish it. Your father and I will always be by your side.”

She heard her mother’s voice again—she wanted so much to say, “Mom, don’t leave. Yaoyao misses you.”

She reached out, trying to catch her mother, and she actually grasped a soft hand. Summoning all her strength, she opened her eyes, hoping to see her mother—but instead, a middle-aged man appeared before her. He had a clean, fresh face, unlike most men his age, whose chins bore untidy stubble. His skin was smooth, no less so than a woman’s. Looking closer, his features were striking; his eyes were not black, but tea-brown.

Seeing her awake, the man smiled warmly, evoking memories of her mother—a strange sensation, for though he was a man, he exuded a motherly gentleness.

It was a little absurd. She shook her head gently, feeling dizzy.

“You’ve just woken up. Don’t move yet.” The man’s voice was gentle—a pleasant baritone. He pressed her shoulder lightly to stop her from sitting up.

“May I ask, where am I?” Lying back, Gu Xinyao asked in confusion. Hadn’t she been electrocuted? Was she not dead?

“You’re in my home—oh, yes, you collapsed beside our grocery shop. My wife and I brought you here. Are you from another village?” The man patiently explained her whereabouts, his eyes occasionally flickering with curiosity—about Gu Xinyao, of course.

Glancing at her own attire, she saw she was still wearing her sky-blue work uniform. Even if it was plainly cut, it shouldn’t make her look like a rural girl. She turned to study the man who had saved her.

At a closer look, she was surprised. Though the man’s clothes were simple in style, the fabric, cut, and stitching were clearly of the highest quality. She didn’t wear designer brands herself, but she knew them when she saw them. She frowned—where exactly was she?

“May I ask…what is this place called?” She didn’t quite know how to phrase her question. She had no idea what had happened, why she had gone from a lab to a stranger’s home.

The man watched her intently, waiting for her to speak. Hearing her question, he looked relieved, as if afraid he wouldn’t be able to answer her.

“This is Utopia. The city we’re in is called Connaleon, the capital of Utopia.”

Gu Xinyao froze at the answer. She was certain—absolutely certain—that there was no such country as Utopia, nor any place called Connaleon, in the world she knew. Had the electric shock caused her to hallucinate, or had she developed a delusion?

“And… what year is it now?” She needed to confirm. If it was 2013, she was dreaming—her world was in chaos.

“It’s July 8th, 3030.” The man, puzzled by her question, nonetheless answered truthfully.

3030?

Gu Xinyao was utterly dumbfounded. Had she… traveled to the future? And not just a little—but more than a thousand years ahead? It was almost impossible to believe.

After the shock subsided, she tried again, “May I ask—do you know Jingjiang? How far is Connaleon from Jingjiang?” She tried to convince herself that perhaps she was simply ignorant—maybe Utopia had existed in history, just undiscovered until now.

The man was surprised by the unfamiliar name, thinking for a long while before shaking his head.

“I’m not sure there’s a place called Jingjiang. But there are many places I haven’t been. Are you from there? My wife’s out making deliveries—when she returns, maybe she’ll know the place you mean.” He wasn’t confused for long; he quickly thought of someone who might know—his wife, who seemed to know everything. He was proud to have such a wife.

Looking at the blissful man before her, Gu Xinyao felt a pang somewhere deep inside, a faint bitterness rising that made her close her eyes. Perhaps she had crossed into a strange time and space, no longer connected to her old world. But maybe that was for the best, she thought silently. At least she wouldn’t have to trouble herself looking for the traces she’d left in her former life.

“Darling, I’m home!” As Gu Xinyao was lost in her inescapable distress, a woman’s vibrant and resonant voice came from outside. Though loud, the affectionate endearment in her words struck the heart—it was clear these two were deeply in love.

“My wife is back!” The man’s voice had barely faded before he was already striding lightly out the door.