His eyes became blurry as things nearby began to break apart and disappear: Aiyao’s happy face, the admiring gazes of the Suman, the Xuan Clock Tower he rescued . . .

    He didn’t want proof of his power to disappear, so he tried rubbing his eyes, but his father’s stern order sounded in his mind: “Never let anyone touch your eyes, including yourself!”

    He had no choice but to close his eyes. When he opened them again, the smoking ruins were gone, replaced by the city of Fulkin he was familiar with, full of fancy and lavish machines.

    “Hey, isn’t that the moron son of the Qing family?”

    “Shh, if he hears us, we’ll be in trouble!”

    “Trouble? Hah! I could take ten of him!”

    “Too bad about the Qing family. After Elder Qing Yin, the patriarch, was conscripted into some special forces regiment, he’s never home. I doubt the family will still be this prestigious in a few years.”

    “Pfft, you’re so nearsighted. Are you forgetting their son Qing Fengling? He’s just seventeen years old, but already very capable!”

    “Right. How could I forget about that genius?”

    “Hey, what’s this moron called, Qing Defeat?”

    “I think it’s Qing Loser, hah . . .”

    “Hee-hee . . .”

    People passing by glanced at Youyue, who was still kneeling in the street, while still snickering amongst themselves.

    Youyue glared at them; he was shocked to realize some of them were the same survivors who were praising him earlier.

    The survivors didn’t dare to be too outrageous; after all, Youyue was still a member of an Elder family, and couldn’t be humiliated too much.

    They hurried and walked away, and Youyue let them leave.

    “Ahh, so my saving the Suman people was just a dream.”

    “Of course, how could I be this amazing? This is my normal world,” Youyue mumbled to himself.

    “Where is Aiyao? She should be here to comfort my ego.”

    Youyue chuckled as he got up to dust off his clothes.

    He knew better than anyone that his soul wouldn’t be wounded by this kind of ridicule.

    Maybe his soul was already too damaged to be hurt by the same things.

    He hugged his clothes tighter, tucked his hands into pockets, and walked on.

    His face was still handsome, but his confidence while facing Yuanlong was gone, and his gaze was no longer so focused.

    Not far away stood the enormous Xuan Clock Tower.

    It was odd that an upside-down and empty tower could stay so still. Maybe it was due to the magnetic needle at the top of the tower, which formed a powerful magnetic field with the ground, and that the building itself was also huge in scale. This was why the Xuan Clock Tower, considered the life source of the Suman people, was still standing after thousands of years.

    Youyue was confused. “How did I just walk up here? There are usually rows of Chilong Brigade guarding this area.”

    “Well, there’s no one else around. I can just nap here with this annoying clock ticking as a lullaby.”

    He walked next to the giant, upside-down building, amazed at how many secrets its history held.

    He sat down by the building.

    Ding-dong, ding-dong . . .  It was 11 p.m.

    All the lights in the clock tower turned on. The serene blue light within the windows, combined with the bell’s deep tolling, enveloped Youyue in a mysterious glow.

    Just as Youyue leaned against the clock tower, the tower itself seemed to have turned on a switch. The tolling stopped abruptly, replaced by the mechanical whirring sounds of the clock’s internal gears.

    Not only that, the hands of the clock were reversing at a speed faster than the naked eye could see.

    After the clock reversed for who knows how many months or years, the clock stopped.

    Youyue was terrified to realize he saw different things from each of his two eyes, or more precisely, his left eye saw something else.

    A young man of uncommon looks stood next to a round table, where eleven other charismatic people also sat. Youyue recognized the young man as his father, Qing Yin. Before he could figure out why his father was there, the scene changed, and the clock’s hands also moved forward a few times.

    Now he saw a place resembling a village. The villagers looked a bit alarmed; from the architecture style and the people’s clothes, he knew it was a Suman village. The fashion indicated it was his father’s generation. After this information was delivered, the scene changed again as the clock ticked on.

    This next scene showed his father in a bed, and a young woman in unusual clothes seemed to be caring for him. Youyue was amazed to feel an affinity with the woman wearing foreign clothes. When he tried to look closer and figure out why the woman gave him a familiar feeling, the scene disappeared from his left eye, and his vision was swallowed up by a strong light.

     “No, no!” Youyue yelled.

    After twelve p.m., the Xuan Clock’s iconic tolling sounded, signaling the start of the afternoon.

    The entire Sherman City also woke up: the wheels inside all the factories turned again, people woke up from their naps to begin their afternoon work or studies.

    It could be said that the whole city was operating the way it was supposed to.

    Except for one person.

    That morning, Qing Youyue was once again stunned by his younger brother Qing Fengling’s outstanding craftsmanship.

    He was also good at studying, and knew how to learn just as well as his brother, but no matter how he tried, he could never create a complete project; it was as if his personality didn’t match the kind of work needed for the machine.

    This was just a small disappointment for him, something he was long used to.

    What really frustrated him was how his personal Chilong robot, Aiyao, would smile and even show admiration toward Fengling.

    Of course, he never showed any reaction in front of his brother. He snuck out during a break and ended up in his own backyard.