Hong Kong was always a busy place. The distant sounds of buses and cars blended with the chatter of people rushing to work. Street vendors shouted out their best deals—"Fresh buns! Hot dumplings!"—their voices echoing through the air.
Zhen Yi reached his school and walked inside. He was greeted by his friends, Chen Ming and Li Qiyue, who spotted him immediately.
"Morning, bookworm," Li Qiyue said in a teasing tone that made Zhen Yi roll his eyes.
"How was your swash-swash training?" Chen Ming swung his hand side to side like he was holding a sword—almost hitting Li Qiyue. She stepped back and shot him a warning glare.
Chen Ming froze instantly, lowering his hand. He leaned toward Zhen Yi and whispered, loud enough for her to hear anyway,
"Girls are always like this…"
"I heard that," Li Qiyue snapped, flicking her hair. "My makeup is more expensive than your brain."
"Yeah, yeah… makeup…" Chen Ming teased and poked her cheek. She quickly swatted his hand away.
Zhen Yi chuckled at their banter.
"Okay, guys, stop. Let's go to class."
As Zhen Yi walked toward the classroom, they followed behind him, still arguing over the smallest things.
The day passed with classes, recess, and the usual mountain of homework.
When the final bell rang, students rushed to pack their bags and scatter out of the building.
Zhen Yi, Chen Ming, and Li Qiyue walked out together, complaining about assignments they hadn't even started yet.
Outside, the sky was painted with an orange-pink glow as the sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon. They passed through a lively street filled with food stalls. Steam rose from bamboo baskets; vendors flipped fish balls in sizzling broth; the sweet smell of sugar figure candy drifted in the air.
They bought fish meatballs on skewers and steamed buns, eating as they walked.
But suddenly, Zhen Yi stopped.
The world tilted slightly, as if the ground moved under him. A mild ache pulsed behind his forehead. He lifted a hand to his temple—and then the vision hit.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood on a battlefield. He wore ancient armor, his presence overwhelming and fierce. Dust swirled around him as he cut down enemies with a single swing of his sword.
Then a powerful voice roared across the battlefield:
"GENERAL YAN ZHEN!"
Zhen Yi blinked—snapping out of the vision as Chen Ming shook his shoulder gently. Both of his friends stared at him with deep concern.
"What happened? Why did you stop? Does your head hurt?" Li Qiyue asked softly, placing a hand on his arm.
Zhen Yi shook his head, though his heart was still racing.
"Don't pretend. You're not feeling well—this is why I told you not to study so much, bookworm," Chen Ming said, trying to lighten the mood.
Zhen Yi managed a weak smile.
They walked him home. His mother was at their noodle shop downstairs, serving customers. She looked up when she saw them.
"Welcome, kids. It's been a while since I last saw you. How have you been?"
"We're doing great, Aunt," they said in unison. "Zhen Yi seemed a little unwell, so we walked him home."
Zhen Yi's mom frowned and turned to him, worry written all over her face.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom," he said. "Just a bit tired from school. I'm going to my room. Bye, guys."
He went upstairs, and Chen Ming and Li Qiyue said their goodbyes.
In his room, Zhen Yi sat on his bed, hands resting on his lap. His mind replayed that strange vision again and again.
The battlefield.
The armor.
The voice calling a name he had never learned… yet felt familiar.
Everything about it felt too real.
Too connected to him.