Chapter 1: A Stream of Lightning

For Zhang Yifu, the nightly break during shifts meant one special kind of pleasure was all his own. He would go to the high bridge near the power plant control room, facing the night breeze and the river, to take a majestic pee. Watching that faint, continuous line fall into the river was something only he could appreciate—a feeling of pure boldness.

This night, the wind blew especially fierce, fierce enough to bend that stream into a strange arch. Amid this wild shift, the alkaline liquid stream stretching from Zhang Yifu’s body started veering towards the 500,000-volt high-voltage power line beneath the bridge…

The moment that unending stream landed on the wire, Zhang Yifu achieved the most spectacular act of urination in human history. To picture it, it was like Thor descending to earth, unleashing a stream of lightning upon the mighty river.

In his final moments, just one thought flashed through Zhang Yifu’s mind—

Don’t pee or poop just anywhere.

Of course, he had no time to share this crucial wisdom.

…

“Yifu! YIFU! You CAN’T skip this lecture today!!”

Through a haze, Zhang Yifu heard a bright, energetic voice. He slowly opened his eyes, shook his head, and pushed himself up. Only then did he see the young man below his bunk.

The young man looked vibrant—a neat, short hairstyle, an oval face, fair and clean, the picture of youth from a decent family. Seeing Zhang Yifu awake, he immediately pushed at the quilt and urged, “Hurry up and get dressed! It’s the job assignment briefing for ALL graduating undergraduate students! If you miss it, you’ll definitely get shipped off to a godforsaken desert power plant!”

“Is this hell…?” Zhang Yifu stared blankly at the kid. “The kind of hell where bookworms study and take tests every single day?”

“Who cares about hell or not? We’re graduating soon anyway!” The young man chuckled at Zhang Yifu’s dazed look. “No fooling around now. Put your clothes on. Leaders from the Ministry’s Personnel Department are coming. Gotta look decent, make a good impression.”

Suddenly, a jolt hit Zhang Yifu’s head. Memories from another person started flooding in. After a wave of dizziness, he stared woodenly at the young man. “You’re that… Hao Shuai? My roommate?”

“What’s up?” Hao Shuai looked down at his own clothes, then laughed. “Guess this outfit’s not bad, eh? Even you couldn’t recognize me!”

Looking at Hao Shuai’s earnest expression, Zhang Yifu’s thoughts finally stabilized a little. He glanced around. Clearly, this was an eight-student university dorm. He’d been sleeping in on the upper bunk, woken by his hardworking classmate.

But this dorm… It felt off. Shouldn’t everyone have a computer? Wouldn’t it be cluttered with dirty clothes and instant noodle wrappers? Yet this place looked strangely neat and simple. In the middle on a long wooden table sat two red thermoses decorated with peony patterns, plus white cups bearing student IDs and aluminum lunch boxes.

It felt like stepping back over ten years.

Turning his gaze back to the guy below, though his face was handsome, he wore an unfashionably plain white shirt and black trousers, his belt hitched high—somehow achieving a whole new level of outdated charm.

That power plant Shift Operator Zhang Yifu had graduated in 2010 and worked nearly five years. But this Zhang Yifu seemed to be nothing more than a student yet to graduate. As he pondered, a startling idea struck him. Hadn’t he died? Had hundreds of thousands of volts from that wire blasted open a door through time?

Wiping cold sweat from his forehead, Zhang Yifu asked dumbly, “Classmate… Is it 2010?”

“2010? Are you dreaming?” Hao Shuai looked at him like he was a monster. “If it were 2010, we’d both be over forty! What nonsense is uni then?”

Zhang Yifu trembled. Fighting a mix of excitement and dread, he choked out, “Then… what year is it?”

Hao Shuai sighed helplessly and pointed towards the calendar hanging on the dorm door.

One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety.

Zhang Yifu suddenly understood.

Twenty years. Everything had rewound twenty years! The college grad of 2010 had become the college grad of 1990!

In his previous life, simply following the crowd, Zhang Yifu had enrolled in an electric power college trying to secure a stable, filling meal. Naturally, lacking any special connections, he drowned among countless other grads, finally scraping together some favors just to land a tiny role as a Shift Operator in a small plant.

But now, it was 1990. Undergraduate degrees might not be as rare as unicorns anymore compared to the early days of reform, but they were still fought over fiercely by employers—especially in the Power System, with its demanding hard-tech requirements.

A flicker of excitement crossed Zhang Yifu’s face. “Is this… Northern Electric Power University?” he asked.

“University? When did it become a university? This is Northern Electric Power College!” Hao Shuai laughed. “Most programs here are still at the associate degree level. Guys like us, with bachelor’s degrees? Not common at all.”

“I see.” Zhang Yifu took a breath to steady himself, then got up and stepped down the ladder. “That assignment meeting you mentioned… We don’t find jobs ourselves? The organization assigns us?”

“Find your own job? Quit and go private?” Hao Shuai’s eyes widened. “For you… maybe that is normal? But at least work a while first! Don’t just toss away your specialty after studying this long! Wouldn’t your dad kill you halfway?!”

As he spoke, Hao Shuai gave Zhang Yifu a firm shove. “No time, no time! We start in 10 minutes! Whether you want to join the private sector later or not, worry about that AFTER the assignment meeting!”

Zhang Yifu was becoming clearer. The society around him really was stuck in the 90s—job assignments by the state. Based on what he knew of this era, grads with bachelor’s degrees absolutely landed plum positions. He’d stumbled into a serious event right after arriving in this world. He knew better than to drag his feet. Go to the meeting first; he could process his shock slowly later.

He rushed to his wardrobe, ready to dig out a proper outfit.

“Denim… denim… leather jacket… slogan T-shirt… ‘Hello, Xiaoping’… ‘Sailing needs a helmsman’…” Zhang Yifu tossed out one wildly inappropriate garment after another. “Do I own ANY normal clothes?”

“Hah! NOW you’re in a rush! How many times did the Counselor warn you!” Hao Shuai grinned and turned to open his own wardrobe. “Alright, since you’re finally seeing sense, I’ll lend you an outfit.”

Zhang Yifu glanced back and immediately pulled a face of utter disdain. These clothes Hao Shuai offered would have seemed shameful even as donations to disaster victims back in his old life. But this Zhang Yifu had little choice now. Showing up at this meeting in head-to-toe denim would be as jarring as showing up for work covered in tattoos as a government employee.

After a quick search, he reluctantly picked out a dark plaid T-shirt and a somewhat tidy pair of dress pants. Snatching a pair of Hao Shuai’s plastic faux-leather shoes, he finally dared step out.

The faint scent of soap clinging to the clothes began letting Zhang Yifu breathe in the unique flavor of this era.

By this time, the dorms for graduating students stood eerily quiet. Word was that leaders from the Ministry Personnel Department were coming, so everyone had left early, desperate to grab good seats in the sprawling lecture hall by the big staircase.

Given that, Hao Shuai seemed pretty loyal, wasting this golden chance just to wait for Zhang Yifu and fuss over his clothes.

As they hurried toward the big lecture hall, Zhang Yifu gazed around at the familiar yet slightly different campus. It felt like lifetimes ago, thoughts swirling within him.

The Power System—a true colossus. Yearly revenues clocking in the trillions. Millions of employees sheltering under its branches. Zhang Yifu had been one of those tiny leaves. But as a small Shift Operator tucked away in some remote plant, he’d been impossibly small on that giant tree—smaller even than an insect.

Though big trees made for good shade, and with the Power System being such a pillar of the energy industry—a real ‘golden rice bowl’—it naturally attracted countless elite talents. For a 2010 college grad trying to shine within that deeply established system? Climbing to a higher branch felt like scaling the sky. Finding any place to roost at all was considered lucky.

Now, it was different.

1990 was the very start of the Power System’s explosive growth.

Over ten years since the country opened its markets, the entire nation had entered a soaring sprint. GDP spiked crazily, and electricity output always raced alongside it. Put simply: the value the nation created demanded matching electricity. Income and power use were tightly linked—like cups and water. A bigger cup holds more water. Enough stable power output was the bedrock needed for powerful industry.

These twenty years of blistering growth? For the nation? It was the march to power, a show of burgeoning might and spirit.

For the individual? Couldn’t it also be the chance for a man to build his name and stride proudly anywhere he pleased?

1990. The nation’s total yearly electricity output had just crossed 600 billion kilowatt-hours.

2014? Projected national yearly output would brush 6 TRILLION kilowatt-hours.

That college grad, forced to vent his ambition only during night shift riverside pees, now stood exactly at the dawn of it all—the very start of a legend. Racing down the hall beside his clueless best friend, headed toward the place that would decide their careers, he burned with excitement, thrill, terror, and amazed disbelief.

Keep cool… Zhang Yifu told himself.

The massive lecture hall wasn’t nearly as crowded as he’d feared. This assignment thing was aimed only at graduating bachelors, but sadly this year, all the undergrads in the whole school barely scraped two hundred. Compared to the thousands enrolling each year in his own time, this showed just how scarce they were. He’d braced himself for a bloody fight over seats. Seeing this relaxed scene stopped him cold.

Everyone was dutifully waiting for school officials and ministry leaders, faces arranged in properly serious smiles. But spotting Zhang Yifu and Hao Shuai finally push through the door instead, they broke into laughs and jokes.

“Yifu! Didn’t oversleep this time!”

“No jeans today?”

The teasing held no malice—just the normal banter between classmates. Blame it on this world’s original Zhang Yifu, who’d been far too rebellious. All he could do was grin sheepishly and rub his head, greeting people while hunting for seats. By now, the memories of Zhang Yifu from 1990 had merged naturally with his own—feelings for friends, bonds with family, all etched firmly onto his consciousness, becoming instinctive.

As he reached the third row, he suddenly froze again.

That must be her… the crush he’d secretly carried.

Not bad taste at all!