Chapter One: Crossing Worlds

Wang Jing was an orphan. In his thirties, he succumbed to cancer, unable to afford treatment, and died alone in his rented room. Yet, just before his death, Wang Jing’s soul crossed over into the body of an infant. Once reborn, he discovered that he was still an orphan. However, after a lifetime of poverty, Wang Jing resolved that this time, he would carve out a brighter future, vowing never to endure the same hardships again.

Of course, Wang Jing fantasized about possessing a system that would help him ascend to the pinnacle of life, but even after graduating from university, the legendary system never appeared. Still, even without a system, Wang Jing led a happy and fulfilling life. From his elementary school years, he was always the top student in his grade; thanks to relentless effort, he was admitted to university, becoming the child other parents envied.

Wang Jing had hoped to continue his studies and earn a doctorate, but limited intelligence left him stranded at university. The world he now inhabited was utterly different from his original one—not only was its history distinct, but even many classic films and literary masterpieces were unfamiliar. Wang Jing’s country was the most powerful on the planet; its strength brought generous social welfare, erasing all pressures of daily life. People worked when it was time to work and played without restraint.

Wang Jing planned to live out his days peacefully, but on a stormy, rain-soaked night, while he was engrossed in a game, a bolt of lightning struck him. The world spun before his eyes, and he suddenly found himself in a cluttered room. Posters and photographs covered the walls, alongside some design drafts that seemed oddly familiar to him.

Upon seeing one particular poster, Wang Jing’s eyes widened with shock. The poster read: “Wandering Earth Project. Join the United Government Forces. Help Earth find humanity’s new home!” In that instant, memories from his previous life surged back like a tide. He glanced at the heavy industrial vehicle driving certification hanging nearby, and the photos in the center.

A movie sprang to mind: “The Wandering Earth.” The urge to cry overtook him—after all, in “The Wandering Earth,” tens of millions perished, especially when Earth was caught by Jupiter’s gravity. The odds of survival in the underground cities soared to fifty percent.

Only then did Wang Jing notice a letter on the desk, written by Liu Qi to his grandfather. As Wang Jing pondered how long it would be before the first earthquake, his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the door.

He turned to see Liu Qi’s grandfather returning home.

Caught off guard, Wang Jing was at a loss, but Liu Qi’s grandfather was even more startled.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“I—ah, I came to see Liu Qi. I happened to catch him just as he was about to run away from home. Look, he’s already written his letter,” Wang Jing replied, handing the letter to the grandfather.

Reading its contents, the old man’s worry quickly gave way to anger as he scolded, “That little rascal!”

“But wait, you came for Liu Qi—why are you here?” he asked, now wary.

“I was worried, so I waited for you to return, so I could tell you right away where Liu Qi went!” Wang Jing explained with a smile.

“Oh!” The grandfather nodded, then suddenly dashed outside and locked the door from the outside.

Wang Jing was promptly taken to the police station.

“I really am not a thief, you have to believe me, officer!” Wang Jing pleaded, handcuffed.

“Whether you’re innocent or not, we’ll investigate thoroughly. But first, we need to figure out why there’s no record of you in the population database,” the jailer said, pushing Wang Jing into a cell and removing the cuffs.

Watching the jailer’s retreating figure, Wang Jing felt utterly hopeless—they must have mistaken him for a rebel.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Locked away, unless he had the protagonist’s luck, he’d surely die when the earthquake struck.

He waited anxiously, and soon enough, the earthquake arrived on cue. The entire cell shook violently, dust rained down, cracks split the walls, stones and bricks fell from above.

Clinging to the bars, Wang Jing screamed for help with all his might.

He saw a jailer running toward him with keys, but in the next moment, a falling stone knocked the man to the ground.

The faint glimmer of hope was extinguished. Wang Jing pounded the iron door in despair, his cries echoing amidst the chaos—a scene that would move any witness.

But in the next instant, the iron door blocking his escape collapsed amid the tremors. His cries stopped abruptly, as a spark of hope reignited.

Overjoyed, Wang Jing rushed out, retracing his steps, but immediately, a broken power cable whipped toward him.

He tried to dodge, but his body was too slow. Cursing inwardly, the sparking wire landed across him.

Eyes squeezed shut, Wang Jing braced himself for death. After a while, he realized his body was still intact, and the tumult had faded. He cautiously opened his eyes and found himself back in the rented room, his legs giving way as he sank to the floor.

After a few moments, once his racing heart had calmed, the pain on his forehead finally registered in his nerves.

He gently touched the sore spot, opened his palm, and saw a trace of blood on his fingertip.

He steadied his still-weak legs, found the medical kit, and cleaned the wound with iodine in the bathroom mirror, then bandaged it with gauze.

Once he had finished, Wang Jing sat before the lightning-damaged computer, recalling everything that had happened. It felt like a dream, but the lingering pain on his forehead reminded him it was all real.

As he reflected, his stomach suddenly rumbled. Snapping out of his thoughts, he got up and made himself a bowl of instant noodles.

While waiting for the noodles to soften, a knock came from the door. Wang Jing opened it to find two men in black standing on the threshold.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Is this the residence of Mr. Wang Jing?” one of the men in black asked.

“What business do you have with Wang Jing?” Wang Jing replied warily.

One of them produced a document bearing the United Nations seal. “Mr. Wang Jing, please come with us. We’d like to discuss the details of that other world.”

“What other world? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wang Jing said, feigning calm.

The two men exchanged a glance, then one pulled out a phone. On its screen was footage of Wang Jing imprisoned in the Wandering Earth world.

“Mr. Wang Jing, the whole world knows you crossed into another world. There’s no point denying it. We mean you no harm; we just have some very important questions to ask,” the man in black said.