To prevent himself from developing dementia and for the sake of his own sanity, Jiang Youwei resolutely opened the calendar. This time, he was completely crazy.

The phone screen clearly displayed: February 19, 2052, the nineteenth day of the first lunar month in the year of Renshen.

"Have I traveled through time? Was it my soul or my body? Am I human or a ghost? Am I a man or a woman? Where am I? What should I do..." A myriad of thoughts suddenly flooded Jiang Youwei's mind, sometimes reluctant, sometimes secretly delighted. The huge cognitive shock was like a sledgehammer, shattering his expression. At this moment, white and yellow blood flowed all over his face. He was not crying; this was just a physiological reaction, and different people would have different reactions. Our protagonist likes to shed tears when stimulated. As a result, the white eye mucus and yellow nasal mucus accumulated overnight flowed down his chin, dripping drop by drop to the ground, forming a yellow sticky stain.

Of course, Jiang Youwei eventually burst into tears. But it wasn't the emotional shock, but rather the slaps his parents had gotten when they arrived. "What's wrong with you so early in the morning?" Huang Xiaohong raised her slipper, pretending to hit Jiang Youwei's butt. Jiang Youwei's mind was in a turmoil, and he could only raise his arms and nod repeatedly in response to this woman who might be his mother.

"What the hell am I doing?!" Jiang Youwei thought to himself as he sat by the window after dinner, gazing at the distant skyscrapers obscured by the haze. Recalling the familiar scenes at the dinner table, he frantically began searching online for information.

"Where should I begin?" Jiang Youwei felt lost for a moment. He was never the type to plan things out before acting; he often rushed into things, often getting stuck on the initial steps for a long time before finally completing them. But this matter was too important to delay, so he began preparing for the future.

"Let me think about it. Let me make a plan. I remember what I learned: first, we must understand the world, and then we can change it." Jiang Youwei began to recall the materialist theories he had learned in elementary school. But after not touching a textbook in years, he naturally struggled to recall them. "Okay, write it down. Then I should record the various events I observe and draw conclusions from them." He remembered part of the methodology. "Yeah, and, and. And look at the girls online~" His mind began to wander.

In short, amidst constant interruptions and coming back to his senses, it wasn't until midnight that Jiang Youwei could barely reacquaint himself with the world: "This world is still largely the same as I remember it. The continents are still where they should be, and the countries are still where they should be.

"The country I'm in is called Country Z (you shouldn't be confused, right?). It's roughly the near-future image of that ancient civilization I remember. (Edited). It even engaged in a non-nuclear conflict with several nearby nations. It's said that the third-generation exoskeleton armor currently in service is performing so well that smaller nations are vying to purchase it. Country Z's global dominance in brain-computer interaction, quantum physics, and nuclear fusion is well known, but they've overlooked one thing: modular construction. This is bad news, really. Simply put, I'm out of a job. These days, things are really just building on the ground. Country Z's population has now exceeded 1.5 billion, and the conflict between population and land has become extremely prominent. The internet is full of arguments about the rich and the poor. Ugh, these are turbulent times."

Country M seemed to be on the verge of collapse, but they were always pulled back. Strange, but on second thought, Country M was rich in resources and the population was not large, so it was unlikely to be divided.

Country E remains the same. (Edited)

Country Y is ruined, yes, it is ruined.

Country F is impressive, worthy of being a revolutionary base. They're one of the few countries that have advanced rather than retreated in recent years. They seem to have been buying up unowned islands and developing them. Isn't this 'global expansion'?"

Jiang Youwei looked at the information he had collected, and a chill ran through his brain. "Hasn't this left me behind by the times? It's like sailing against the current, if you don't advance, you'll retreat! No, that's not right. Who wouldn't be confused in this situation?" He once again displayed his Ah Q spirit.

After the sage time, Jiang Youwei buried himself in the quilt. He stroked his freshly shaved chin and began to recall the unusual things that had happened that day. "Oh, that number!" He suddenly remembered something else, and then he focused his attention on his vision.

However, nothing happened.

He shook his head, carefully recalling what had happened that morning. Suddenly, as if possessed by some unknown force, he shouted, "I need to talk to the Trisolarans!"

There was a rustling sound outside the room, followed by what sounded like footsteps. Jiang Youwei's heart leaped into his throat. Could it be the Trisolarans attacking? He hadn't actually read the novel, having only watched some speed-reading videos online. He calmly stood up and turned off the lamp, then slowly lay back down on the bed, carefully covering himself with the quilt and pretending to be fast asleep. He only heard the sound of the door lock turning, the sound of slippers tapping on the floor, and a faint meow outside the room. "Are you still going to sleep?!" Was it the Trisolarans' usual synthetic female voice?! Get out of here, monsters!

Perhaps Jiang Youwei's prayers to Guan Yu were too devout, and the various sounds behind him gradually faded away with the sound of the door closing. His nervous palms were sweating, and he kept breathing heavily in his bed, looking like he was about to die.

"Maybe it's just an illusion." This was his last thought before he was covered by the quilt and fainted.