Boom—
In Lingnan City, Jianglong Province, the abandoned orphanage that had stood empty for two decades finally came down.
Antony Wright, a native of Lingnan, leaned against his car’s hood, eyes fixed on the two collapsed walls with a flood of memories running through his mind.
He had lived there until the age of 14, and seeing the old gatehouse still standing made him chuckle softly. He remembered that gruff old man with the bamboo stick yelling loud and clear, "Antony! Get that stance steady! I’m standing here with you—if I don’t collapse, what excuse do you have?"
To be honest, Antony had always felt like shouting back, “How about you pull out that bamboo stick from under your ass, then we’ll see who's falling over!” The guy called it training, but it was straight-up old-school tough love.
That elder had coached him from the age of 4 to 14. Only after the man passed did Antony learn the truth—surrounded by a dozen veteran soldiers at the hospital bed, he found out that the old guy had been a real war hero. A Korean War vet who took down six American soldiers with just a bayonet. No wife, no kids, he poured his entire life and pension into that orphanage. Even his grave was among the war martyrs'.
He let out a heavy sigh.
Would you believe Antony figured later, from some movie, that the old man might’ve been teaching him Wing Chun the whole time?But the stuff the old man taught him? None of that flashy nonsense—just real, solid moves meant to finish things in one go.
If that old guy ever found out that after ten years of training, Antony Wright went out and used a knife on someone... he’d probably come flying out of his grave from sheer rage.
Ah, the past—best not to dwell on it. After a few wild years, he got straightened out by the authorities. Now? He’s just a cab driver. Antony opened the Tomato Novel app, gearing up to catch a story while driving. It was the only thing that made his day less dull. Friends? Please—ain’t one of them worth trusting.
Just then, a young monk walked up to him.
“Excus—”
Antony cut him off with a grin and a wave. “You scammer types usually post up at hospital parking lots. What’re you doing on the side of the road? New to this game, huh? Thinking you can hustle a cabbie? Think again.”
Suddenly, Antony blurted out, “Damn, you really went all in—look at that! You even burned ring dots on your head. Mind if I check if they’re real?” He reached out without waiting for an answer.
Before the monk could react, Antony had already patted his head twice. “Hell, kid, you serious about this! Must’ve hurt like crazy burning those on, huh?”
Then a soft, sweet voice chimed in from nearby. “Uncle, is he like... the Tang Monk? But where’s Monkey King?”Antony Wright glanced at the little girl in the princess dress, a strange sense of familiarity washing over him.
He bent down, ruffled her hair, and chuckled, “Maybe Sun Wukong’s out begging for food… or maybe he’s gone after that Moon Rabbit spirit.”
“Could you not say that in front of a kid?” a woman’s voice interrupted.
Maybe it was his age showing, but that soft, sweet little girl—man, she was just too adorable. He looked up at the woman smiling behind her and said, “This your girl? No wonder she looks just like you did back when we were kids. What brings you here?”
“What, I didn’t grow up here too? They’re tearing this place down—I can’t stop by and take one last look?”
“Haven’t seen you in years. Your kid’s this big now, huh? You haven’t changed a bit—still just as feisty.”
“Sir…”
Antony looked at the young monk holding out a 20, then said, “Oh right, forgot about you. Look, if you’re putting this much into your act, I’ll let you scam me this once!”
“Sir, I’m not begging. I’m just asking for directions,” the monk took a step back looking like he’d seen a ghost.
Antony gave him a once-over, surprised. “Well I’ll be, you’re the real deal? Alright then, hang tight—I’ll play the good guy today and make sure you get where you need to go.”
The little monk opened his mouth to reply…Antony Wright caught sight of a car barreling straight at them. Almost without thinking, he shoved the little monk aside, scooped up the young girl from the ground, and tossed her into her mother’s arms.
Bang!
He was sent flying over ten meters before crashing hard onto the pavement.
Agonizing pain shot through his whole body. He coughed violently—his hands came away smeared with blood.
“Susan… the kid… is she okay?”
"Antony! Antony!" Susan cried, kneeling beside him, lifting his head gently onto her lap. Her tears fell like rain on his face.
With a pained grin, Antony rasped, “Don’t… don’t cry, Susan. I’ve… done plenty of bad stuff. Guess… it’s catching up to me.”
It was that kind of truth people only admitted when they knew their time was up—under normal circumstances, he’d never have said it out loud.
“Just hang in there, Antony. The ambulance… it’s on its way,” Susan sobbed, her tears soaking through his shirt.
“I… I…” Blood kept bubbling from his mouth as he struggled for words.
The little monk stepped closer and silently took off a wooden charm from around his neck. He placed it into Antony’s blood-covered palm. “This was from my master… it’s meant to protect.”Suddenly, Antony Wright’s eyes flew open. He could feel the peace amulet pulling his blood—yeah, literally sucking it out. Everything the little monk said after that just faded. The world spun, then bam—blackout.
…
"Ah—!"
He jolted awake with a loud cry, mouth wide open, gasping like he’d been underwater too long. Took him a hot second just to catch his breath properly. As he looked around under the faint moonlight, he noticed rows of desks around him.
Out of nowhere, his head felt like it got stabbed. Like a movie on fast forward, scenes and info started crashing through his brain. He clenched his fists tight, grinding his teeth to bear the pain.
It went on like that for maybe ten minutes. Just when he thought he was gonna pass out, boom—it stopped.
Time travel?
He stared at his smaller hands—at least a size or two down. No way… did he really time travel?
Turned out, this new body of his was also called Antony Wright. Kid’s only fifteen? And seriously, with all the names in the world, why keep the same one? “Antony Wright” again? Really?
He lay back down on a desk and threw an arm under his head but winced hard. Sharp pain shot through his skull. Must’ve banged it when he fell off the desk earlier.
So, it’s 1960. Place is Beijing. Right smack in the hardship era. Food? Practically nonexistent. Even city folks had to grab shovels and dig for wild greens in their free time.Folks in the city at least didn’t starve, but adults only got about 28 catties of rations. A teenager like him? Just 14. Barely enough to get by. Everyone looked pale and sickly, belt straps flopping from how thin they’d gotten.
The countryside had it way worse. In the summer, there were still wild greens to eat, but come winter, people just had to tough it out. Some trees even got stripped bare of bark.
They kept saying it was natural disasters those three years, but deep down, folks knew — a bit of crop failure, sure, but not like total loss. Still, nobody dared to speak that out loud. Just had to swallow it and move on.
The ones who had it worst were the farmers. They worked the fields, handed in the grain, then went home hungry.
Back when he was five, the original host’s mother died of illness. His father, a peasant in the village, later got matched with a widow. No ceremony or anything — they just moved in together, practical like. That’s how he ended up with a stepmother... and two stepbrothers around his age.
At that thought, Antony Wright chuckled. His old man really had some unlucky streak. The second year after moving in with the widow, he went to the city to deliver grain. Just then, the steel plant was expanding for the first time. Lucky timing—there was a hiring notice posted outside the gate. Thanks to a few years of private tutoring from Antony’s grandpa, he could read well enough and landed himself a job not long after.Antony Wright couldn't help but chuckle—honestly, it made sense. Back in these times, as long as you were a city worker, even with a few kids in tow, you could still find a young lady to marry if you went back to the village. His dad? That guy just married too early, no two ways about it.
Steel Rolling Mill? Wait, is it that one from "Full of Love in the Courtyard"? He remembered hearing things—wasn’t that place full of jerks? The TV version was annoying enough, but the fan-fictions? Absolute circus. Folks had basically turned it into a horror show. The comments section was even wilder—like, people were way off the rails. Someone even decided the five-guarantee granny was an undercover spy. A five-guarantee granny? That meant she never had a job, no pension, wasn’t even employed to begin with… spy on what, exactly? Eventually, Antony gave up on the stories altogether and just read the comments—they were way more entertaining than the actual plots.
Ah well, what's done is done. He let out a long breath and quickly came to terms with it all. After all, he was an orphan in that other world too—nothing keeping him there, really.
From now on, he was Antony Wright of 1960.
Just as he lightly rubbed the bump on his head, something suddenly…
