The tall thug noticed Ye Wen staring past him. Sensing danger behind, he started to turn—only to take Jin Jiahui’s fist square in the face.

Jin Jiahui yanked Qiu Yi over and shoved him toward Ye Wen. Before the thug could react, another punch smashed into his nose. Snarling, the thug whipped out a switchblade and slashed wildly. Jin Jiahui sidestepped smoothly, drove a third punch into the thug’s eye, then seized his wrist. He twisted the blade’s trajectory—forcing it to sink deep into the thug’s own arm. Blood instantly soaked through his sleeve.

Relentless, Jin Jiahui drove a knee straight into the thug’s groin. A sickening crunch echoed.

The whole assault happened so fast the thug hadn’t even felt the blade in his arm. Only when his groin exploded with pain did every wound scream at once.

“AHHH—!” The thug howled like a slaughtered pig, writhing on the ground.

His buddies bolted without hesitation, dragging their shrieking leader into the shadows.

Qiu Yi picked up his fallen camera, sighed in relief, and tucked it back into his bag.

Ye Wen knew exactly how this scene was *supposed* to play out. She stayed silent beside Jin Jiahui.

*In my memory, Qiu Yi and Jin Jiahui fought them off together. Not like this—where they just ran because we outnumbered them.* A pang of regret shot through her. *Did my interference ruin his turning point?* She cursed herself inwardly.

“What happened?” Jin Jiahui asked.

“They bumped into me… demanded money. When they found none after searching my bag, they took this camera. I tried to stop them… and got hit.”

“Next time, stand your ground,” Jin Jiahui said firmly. “Even if you lose, fight back. If you don’t resist, they’ll just keep pushing.” He jerked his chin toward Feng Yulan at the alley’s mouth. “Thank Xiao Lan here. She saw you getting jumped and ran to get us. You’d be pulp otherwise.”

“...Thanks.” Qiu Yi brushed dust off his clothes, stealing an awkward glance at Ye Wen. *A guy needing girls to save him in a fight? Pathetic.* His legs still trembled slightly at the memory.

*If even girls aren’t scared… what’s my excuse?* He took a deep breath. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t sweat it! That’s what friends are for,” Jin Jiahui said earnestly. “If you see me as a brother, never apologize for this.”

“Oh? Jin Jiahui walking Feng Yulan home today?” Ye Wen teased, trying to break the tension.

“Y-yeah! Just keeping Xiao Lan safe. Neighborhood’s gotten sketchy lately!”

“True enough,” Ye Wen nodded.

After parting ways, Qiu Yi walked alone down the street, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I’m… completely useless. Like trash.” Self-loathing burned in his chest. *Can’t even study right. Can’t even throw a punch. What’s the point of my existence? If Ye Wen ever chose me… could I even protect her?*

…

“Welcome back, Miss.” Butler Liu bowed respectfully.

“Mm.” Ye Wen popped a haw flake from the coffee table into her mouth.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ye won’t be home tonight, miss.”

“Okay.” She grabbed her backpack and headed upstairs to her room.

“Miss~ you’re back!” Shuizishi chirped, scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees. She didn’t pause her work—finishing fast meant longer breaks. Life as a Ye family servant was easy.

Ye Wen browsed websites as usual, then froze. A game she’d never seen before glowed on her screen: *Asteroid Fall*. Its official site announced a surprise public launch today. *No prior ads? Some indie project? Or… another ripple from changed history?*

The 3D isometric RPG resembled *Torchlight*. Ye Wen created an account and dove in immediately, picking a hulking giant dude as her avatar.

Games like this were rare nowadays. Starved for a good MMO, Ye Wen lost herself completely. Shuizishi finished cleaning, curled up beside her to watch, then slipped away at dinnertime to help in the kitchen. The Ye family chef—a five-star talent—could make even cactus taste divine.

…

Back home, Qiu Yi scrubbed every corner of his apartment, then followed recipes to cook dinner. His first attempt wasn’t gourmet, but edible.

At 8 PM, his exhausted parents walked in. They stared at the spotless home and steaming dishes on the table.

“Did a housekeeping fairy visit us?” his father joked.

“Our son grew up,” his mother whispered, tears welling. “Xiao Yi!”

“Yeah—right here.” Qiu Yi emerged from his room.

“You did all this?”

“Mm.”

“My boy’s really grown,” his father said, voice thick.

“Let’s eat,” Qiu Yi said softly.

The three gathered under the flickering ceiling bulb, its warm glow swaying gently in the breeze.

“How’s the taste?” Qiu Yi asked.

“Delicious,” his father declared.

“Mm…” His mother wiped happy tears, beaming. “Of course it’s good—my son made it.”

“Don’t cry. Be happy! Eat up,” his father urged.

“I *am* happy…”

Pure, tearful joy radiated from her. The son who’d never lifted a finger had finally grown up. How could parents not rejoice?

Though Ye Wen had altered history… Qiu Yi’s transformation had still begun. Was history truly changeable? Or were its core threads unbreakable?