My System Crashed

Staring at the glaring red battery warning on his phone screen, Ye Yuan grew increasingly anxious. It had been hard enough to arrange two days off; he’d stocked up on rations, decisively retreated to his cramped fifteen-square-meter rental, and with a flop onto the bed, had immediately fished out his phone and opened the novel he’d been nurturing for half a month. Instantly, a look of blissful contentment spread across his face.

Half an hour later, the battery warning flickered at 20%. Propping himself up with his arm and stretching his iron-stiff waist honed over a decade, Ye Yuan finally managed to reach the charger on the little table. Plugging in the charging cable, he watched the red indicator turn once more to that enchanting green, and a satisfied smile returned to his lips.

But ten minutes later, disaster struck Ye Yuan’s life—a crisis of monumental proportions.

The power had gone out. Without warning, the entire suburban district was plunged into darkness.

The computer was dead.

The power bank was dead.

The electric scooter was dead.

The neighbors were out.

The internet café downstairs, ever unprofessional, hadn’t bothered to start up a generator.

The convenience store across the street was—by some cruel twist of fate—completely sold out of power banks.

No buses in sight.

No Didi drivers willing to take orders.

The subway wasn’t opening until next year.

The moped drivers, too, had all taken the day off. Who could blame them? With the temperature soaring to thirty-eight degrees Celsius,