Chapter One: The Username

At 11:47 on Monday night, Cheng Ye was still at the office changing colors in a weekly report no one would seriously read. Han Ce had rejected the third draft with six words: The red isn't oppressive enough. Cheng changed brick red to blood red. At the same moment, a security notice appeared: Your password has been found on the public web. He assumed it was another company phishing drill. The link opened a social platform called Afterimage. In its search bar sat seven characters: Nanqiao417. It was the password he had used for ten years. It was not one of his ordinary passwords. Since graduation, it had guarded his old email, cloud photographs, and encrypted diary—a key hidden beneath his tongue, shared with no one.