ETERNAL CURRENT

Zhu Yan woke to the sharp buzz of his alarm, blinking against the sunlight spilling through the thin curtains. The small apartment was quiet except for the hum of the old refrigerator. He stretched, his muscles stiff from yesterday’s work. Being an orphan had taught him many things, resilience, independence, and how to keep moving forward even when life felt unfair.

He dressed quickly in his worn overalls, grabbing a Sandwich for breakfast. Life was simple and often harsh, but it was his life, and he had learned to make the most of it. Working as an electrician was more than just a job. It was a way to feel capable in a world that had not always been kind to him. Fixing what was broken, watching lights flicker back to life, gave him a quiet sense of satisfaction.

That morning, the office building he had been called to repair was unusually silent. The hum of the elevators and air conditioning was the only sound that accompanied him as he crouched before the main circuit panel. Nothing in the schematics explained the constant tripping. He frowned, tracing the wires with practiced fingers, his mind already analyzing every possibility.

Sometimes, when he paused, he remembered the dreams. They were vague, fleeting images, flames licking at stone halls, voices calling his name in tones both gentle and commanding, footsteps echoing across corridors he could not place. They left him unsettled and restless, but he had long ago learned to dismiss them as nothing more than imagination.

Far above the city, in a sleek high-rise, Zhou Yichen’s day had already begun. Sunlight reflected off the polished glass walls of his office, casting a sharp glow across his desk. He sipped his coffee slowly, scanning spreadsheets and reports with careful attention. Every detail mattered. Every decision mattered. To the outside world, he was untouchable, precise, and confident. But beneath the polished suits and calm demeanor, Yichen carried the weight of thousands of years.

He had spent centuries searching for a fragment of his soul, a presence he had loved and lost long ago. Every lifetime, every world he traversed, had brought him closer and then left him empty-handed. In this era, he had built a thriving company, not for wealth or prestige, but as a way to track, to find, and to prepare. Yet even amidst his power and success, he could not fill the hollow ache inside. Loneliness had become his constant companion.

Yichen often paused at the floor to ceiling windows, staring at the city below. Among the millions of faces, he sought one. He remembered Zhu Yan with painful clarity, the curve of his smile, the fire in his eyes, and the quiet strength that had once made him both infuriating and impossible to forget. Those memories were a lantern in the dark, fragile but unwavering.

Meanwhile, Zhu Yan finished the last adjustments to the circuit panel, testing the flow of electricity until everything hummed steadily. He wiped his hands on a rag, the faint smell of burnt wire lingering on his skin. Life was predictable in its own way, and he liked it that way. Yet there was a restless tug in his chest he could not explain. Sometimes he felt like he was missing something he could not name, a presence hovering just beyond his understanding.

Back in his office, Yichen leaned back in his chair, closing his laptop for a brief moment. He allowed himself a single deep breath, letting memories of a world long gone wash over him. He remembered Zhu Yan’s laughter, the way he had moved with both grace and force, and the unspoken understanding that had existed between them. Even after centuries, Yichen could feel the ache of loss, the longing for a life that had ended too soon.

That evening, Zhu Yan returned to his small apartment. He showered quickly, letting the hot water chase away the exhaustion of the day. He sat at his kitchen table, staring out at the city lights. Life had taught him caution, the need to rely only on himself, but something in the quiet of the night made him feel uneasy. There was a weight in the air, a sense of anticipation he could not explain.

His dreams that night were sharper than usual. He saw a man standing in a vast hall, eyes fixed on him with a strange intensity. The man’s voice echoed without sound, filling Zhu Yan’s chest with a warmth and familiarity that left him breathless. When he woke, heart pounding, he could not tell if it had been a dream or a memory he had yet to place.

Yichen, in the same city, sat in the dark of his office, recalling centuries past. He remembered every detail of Zhu Yan, the fire in his gaze, the stubbornness, the laughter, and even the moments of vulnerability he had rarely shown. Yichen had waited for thousands of years, never allowing hope to fade, holding tightly to the belief that they would meet again. He did not yet know how close fate had brought them, but he felt it in the restless tug of his heart, a whisper of destiny moving closer with each passing day.

For now, Zhu Yan and Yichen lived separate lives. One as a humble electrician, shaped by struggle and quiet strength. The other as a brilliant CEO, honed by centuries and relentless pursuit. They did not yet know that the threads of fate had begun to weave around them, connecting two souls across time. Each heartbeat, each ordinary moment, was a step toward an encounter that would change everything.

Life was ordinary. Life was quiet. Yet beneath the surface, something extraordinary was stirring.