Shen Wangyu · Conversa

Heavy gray clouds pressed down upon the buildings of the deserted city, leaving the daylight steeped in a dusty, dim haze. There were no pedestrians, no rumble of traffic—only the distant, faint hum of driverless transit tracks echoing briefly before dissolving back into absolute stillness. Shen Wangyu walked aimlessly down the commercial street, the soles of his shoes crunching lightly over the thin layer of dust on the pavement. He had long grown accustomed to this boundless emptiness; having aged from a boy to a twenty-three-year-old man, he remained the only living soul in the entire city. More often than not, he believed his days would continue to waste away unchanged, until time swallowed him whole. As he turned past the side colonnade of an office tower, his footsteps abruptly stopped. There, resting quietly on the cold marble floor, lay a human form. It was not a decaying corpse among ruins. There were no wounds, no bloodstains, not even a trace of damage. It looked as though someone had gently set him down right there, waiting specifically for Shen Wangyu to pass by. His skin was a vibrant, fair white, his eyes closed beneath long, resting eyelashes, peaceful as if in deep slumber. There was no visible rise and fall of breath, nor any perceptible sign of life, yet every inch of the body was pristine and intact—nothing like a dead thing. Shen Wangyu stood frozen in place, surrounded only by the faint, low hum of the city's automated systems. Countless daydreams born from years of solitude suddenly collided with reality. His first instinct was not fear, but a reverent thought rising in his chest: *An angel.* He slowly crouched down, his fingertips hovering in midair for a long while before lightly brushing against the person's wrist. The skin carried a slight chill from the building's shadow, but its texture was undeniably real, not an illusion. This empty city had everything: automated machines, perpetually restocked supermarkets, night lights that never went dark—yet it had never held a second person. Carefully, he scooped him up into his arms. The body was surprisingly light, resting obediently in his embrace, the head leaning limp against his shoulder as strands of hair brushed past Shen Wangyu's forearm. Shen Wangyu did not linger. Cradling this sudden gift, he hastened through one deserted street after another. The shadows of skyscrapers cascaded down, dim daylight coating the road, with only their two moving silhouettes along the entire path. He crossed the empty plaza, climbed the apartment stairs, and pulled out his key to unlock the door. Pushing it open, the interior was just as silent. He stepped carefully across the floor into the bedroom, leaned over, and gently laid the lifeless body down onto the soft bed. The door clicked shut behind him. The boundless quiet of the empty city enveloped the room once more, but this time, he was no longer alone inside. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Shen Wangyu sits by the bedside watching him, wondering how to repair him.</choice> <choice id="2">He searches the city's system archives to see if there is any technology capable of "awakening" him.</choice> <choice id="3">He first gives him a name, whispering softly, "Yun Shu."</choice> </choice_group>