On the other side of the facility, Ye followed Anna to the lounge. Calling it a "lounge" was an understatement; it was more like a private suite or a boutique hotel room. Decorated in the same relaxing wood tones as the clinical booths, it was designed for total comfort. A chaise lounge sat in the center, perfect for sitting or reclining, and the bookshelves were lined with travelogues and nature exploration books. The room showed no visible trace of electronic devices. Chang Ye’s lips curled into a slight smile at the sight. Just then, Anna appeared, carrying a tray she seemed to have retrieved from thin air.
"Madam Chang, here is your favorite Muscat wine and dark chocolate. Would you like me to project Miss Meng’s Blueprint construction process onto the lounge screen for you?" Anna asked politely.
"That won't be necessary. It’s just watching her sleep, isn't it? No need for that; I saw enough of it when she was little. Besides, Kelly knows I hate staring at screens—that’s why she went to the trouble of preparing this room without a visible monitor," Ye laughed.
"Understood. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"Nothing at all, don't worry," Ye said.
"Very well. If you need anything, please press the bell and I will come immediately. I'll leave you to your rest."
"No problem. Go ahead."
With a wine glass in hand, Ye wandered over to the bookshelf. Her eyes scanned the titles absentmindedly until they landed on a book titled "The Blueprint Writers." Intrigued, she smiled and pulled it from the shelf. The cover featured the silhouette of a woman standing against a deep blue background, accented by a single stroke of red lips. The blurb on the back read: “Unveiling the mystery of the Blueprint Writers.”
"Sigh, must the titles always be so sensational?" Ye murmured to herself with a smirk.
She flipped to the first page:
“The technology of the Blueprint Research Center originated from the Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science at MIT. Developed by Dr. Kevin Hughes and brought to prominence by Dr. Kelly Lin, it officially incorporated in 2032. Today, it stands as the world’s leading AI strategy firm, dedicated to accelerating societal living standards and maximizing individual productivity to create a prosperous future.”
Ye gave a helpless smile and continued flipping through the pages, eventually finding herself at the start of Chapter Three.
The tone of "The Blueprint Writers" was exaggerated and dramatic, describing the center's "mysterious internal processes." It even claimed that the "Writers" were actually a group of hyper-sensitive individuals with extreme emotional histories who used their own life experiences to "simulate" a client’s future path—a sort of emotional projection algorithm more precise than any AI.
Ye let out a soft, mocking laugh at the ridiculous description. Yet, beneath the flamboyant marketing jargon, the words stirred fragments of memory deep within her. She set the book down and whispered, "Kelly, you must really miss Kevin..."
The outgoing, vibrant energy she had arrived with vanished, replaced by a trace of loneliness in her eyes. Perhaps it was a sudden surge of sentimentality, or perhaps the slight buzz from the Muscat wine, but as she gazed at her own reflection in the glass, her thoughts drifted back nearly forty years. She remembered a pair of eyes from four decades ago—clear, yet fiercely determined—eyes that had reflected her own younger self.
"My wish is to blow up the world," the little girl said firmly. Though she was only ten, her eyes held a level of conviction and resolve that didn't belong to someone her age.
"Yunsheng, why would you say something like that?" Ye asked. Back then, Yunsheng hadn't yet taken the name Kelly.
"The world is just so unfair. Look at my grandparents—they’re so kind, they’ve never done anything wrong, yet their lives are so hard. But those mean uncles and neighbors? They spend all day plotting and scheming, yet they have everything and live perfectly happy lives. What kind of logic is that? And why do I always have to give my things to my cousin? Just because he’s a boy? Am I supposed to just back down on everything? Who made these rules?" By the end, little Yunsheng’s face was flushed with agitation.
"Yunsheng, you..." Ye started to comfort her, but the girl continued.
"And humans are so strange. They always talk about protecting the Earth, but they keep killing animals and destroying the environment... we’re basically just parasites on the planet, aren't we? Thinking about it makes me so angry. I just want to blow it all up!"
"Yunsheng," the high-school-aged Chang Ye said gently, "the world has many good people and many bad people. If you destroy the world, are you going to take the people you love down with you?"
"But it’s just not fair! By what right? Ye, tell me, what’s so good about this world? What meaning is there in living?" Yunsheng demanded.
"Yunsheng, you’re still so young. You’ll understand as you grow up. Life has many difficulties; you can’t always get everything you want. But just because things didn't go exactly as planned doesn't mean life is any worse. Yunsheng, one day you’ll face hardships and setbacks, but you’ll also meet people who like you, support you, and love you. How will you know if life is worth it if you don't try?" Ye patted Yunsheng’s head with a gentle smile. "Besides, you little brat, stop overthinking things! You’re not cute when you’re this precocious. Are you that desperate to be the 'perfect child' everyone talks about?"
"What 'perfect child'?" Yunsheng looked confused, though her indignation had begun to fade.
"Silly kid. You’ve always been that 'perfect child' in everyone’s stories—the one who’s always better than the rest. I understand why you’re excellent at everything and refuse to settle, but don't be so angry. My wish, and your mother’s wish, is just for you to grow up happy. It’s okay not to be the perfect child."
Yunsheng listened, seemingly deep in thought, but she didn't argue further.
"Yunsheng, Ye, are you ready?" A middle-aged woman’s voice called from outside. "If you don't come down now, we'll miss the movie."
"Let's go, Yunsheng. Your mom is rushing us." Ye took Yunsheng’s hand, and the two headed downstairs.
It was around the turn of the millennium. The streets were filled with the buzzing excitement of the unknown, shadowed by a lurking fear of the future. Many believed the year 2000 would be the end of civilization and partied wildly; others stockpiled food and candles, waiting for a madness that might never come. But for Ye and Yunsheng’s family, it was just a slightly louder New Year’s Eve.
Their world was still small—small enough that a family dinner could fill their entire hearts, small enough that their neighborhood was their entire universe. That night, Ye’s parents were still on duty at the hospital. The television played countdown programs as if the whole world was leaping into the future, but this small town stood quietly on the edge of the era, isolated and serene. Everything else was just background noise.
Ye remembered the movie they saw that day. it was about an ordinary man who discovers his reality is actually a virtual simulation—the streets he walked, the air he breathed, the people he loved, even himself, were just strings of data in a massive system. He was asleep in a machine matrix, used as a battery for energy. Those cold metal tentacles and dark incubation chambers were chilling, but more unsettling was the protagonist’s choice: to keep living a beautiful lie, or wake up to the ruins of reality.
Ye hadn't been very interested in that kind of reality-bending premise; she thought it was too cynical. How could the world be that bad? But Yunsheng had been ecstatic after the film, her face flushed as she discussed the plot with her mother and Ye, wondering if she might get "that phone call" one day.
"Look at you, always dreaming about these far-fetched things," Yunsheng’s mother said, shaking her head with a resigned smile.
"Auntie, was it too early to let her see that?" Ye asked.
"If I didn't let her see it, I’d be in even more trouble. Everyone needs an outlet," her mother replied.
"What kind of outlet?" Ye asked, watching Yunsheng walk ahead of them.
"You remember Yunsheng’s brother, right? He’s the kind of person where if he’s angry, the whole world knows. His face drops, his voice rises, and no one dares get close. But Yunsheng isn't like that. Even when she’s angry enough to collapse, her surface remains as calm as still water. You can’t see a single ripple of emotion." Her mother’s tone was soft, but laced with a hidden worry.
She paused, as if weighing whether to continue.
"This child hides her anger in her heart. She smiles over it, endures it, and keeps going. But emotions don't just vanish into thin air. One day, something big is going to happen." Her voice was quiet, carrying the kind of intuition only a mother possesses.
"Aren't you overthinking it, Auntie? Yunsheng seems fine to me—like a little ray of sunshine," Ye said, her tone half-joking. She wasn't truly dismissing the concern; she just didn't know how to respond to such heaviness.
"You'll understand when you’re a mother one day." Yunsheng’s mother smiled, but said no more, as if she already knew speaking was futile.
She turned to look at Yunsheng—the girl who was currently spinning in circles in the yard, chasing the flickering light of the New Year’s fireworks, her laughter as light as the wind. But in her mother’s eyes, Yunsheng’s happiness looked like a thin, meticulously applied sugar coating, wrapping around a sadness and repression that no one else could see.
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.