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MidReal Story
The Billionaire's Contractual Bride
Scenario:在 2025 年，落魄程序员苏正的旧款诺基亚手机突然收到一条来自 2009 年的短信:【校花江鱼儿将在毕业典礼后遭遇车祸，成为植物人】。当他试图阻止预言时，发现自己的家变成了连接 2009与 2025 年的时空虫洞,而他的身份正与2009 年的高中男生苏一发生奇妙纠缠--两人共享记忆，却无法直接对话，只能通过短信传递碎片化信息
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Su Zheng
and intelligent. In 2025, he discovers a timespace wormhole connecting him to the past. Using this wormhole, he tries to change the fate of Jiang Yuer, a girl he has Crushed on since high school. Su Zheng navigates through memories of Jiang Yuer and himself from 2009, attempting to communicate with his younger self to alter the course of events.
Jiang Yuer
and somewhat naive. Jiang Yuer is admired by many for her beauty and academic achievements. She has a close relationship with Su Zheng and Su Yi, though she is unaware of the latter's crush on her. Her story takes a tragic turn when she suffers a car accident becoming a vegetable at the age of 22. This event shapes the narrative of Su Zheng's journey through time.
Su Yi
and sometimes impulsive. Su Yi is able to see Su Zheng from the future through strange occurrences. He shares a crush on Jiang Yuer and struggles with his friendship with Wei Chen. He tries to understand the strange events happening around him and seeks advice from Su Zheng in the future. Despite their age difference, Su Yi values their interaction and uses it as a guide.
In 2025, I received a text message on my old Nokia phone that had been silent for years.
The message was from Su Zheng, who was me but not me, from 2009.
It read: "The campus beauty Jiang Yuer will suffer a car accident after her graduation ceremony and become a vegetable. Go save her!"
This was the first time I had received such a message.
I thought about it carefully, unsure of what to do.
After some consideration, I decided to send a message back.
I typed out: "Hello, Su Zheng from 2009. This is Su Zheng from 2025. Is everything okay?"
Then I sent it.
There was no response for a while.
I waited anxiously, wondering if something had gone wrong.
Just as I was about to give up, my phone beeped again.
I looked at the screen and saw another message from Su Zheng in 2009: "Yes, everything is fine. What about you? How is life in 2025?"
I thought about this for a moment before responding: "Life is good here. But I have a question for you. How did you send me this message? And what do you mean by 'go save her'?"
I sent the message and waited for a response.
I stare at my phone screen, my prosthetic left hand trembling slightly as I type out my response.
The dim light of my cramped apartment flickers, casting strange shadows on the wall - the same wall where a poster of Jiang Yuer once hung in my high school dorm.
I ask him for more details about the accident, but his replies become increasingly fragmented and desperate.
Through the window, I notice the streetlight outside beginning to distort, its beam bending unnaturally towards my room.
The space around me feels different, heavier somehow.
"Su Zheng from 2009, are you still there?" I typed quickly, feeling the weight of urgency in my chest.
"Yes, but it's getting harder to connect," came the reply, each word appearing slowly as if struggling through a fog.
"You have to trust me," he continued, "Jiang Yuer's accident is linked to something bigger—something that changes everything."
I sit at my desk, the Nokia's screen casting a pale glow in the darkness.
The whir of my laptop's fan fills the silence as I open it, the screen flickering to life.
My prosthetic hand trembles slightly as I type, the keyboard clacking beneath my fingers.
The search engine loads painfully slow, each second stretching like an eternity.
More texts from 2009 pile up, each one more urgent than the last.
I type "Jiang Yuer graduation ceremony 2009" with clumsy fingers, scanning through old social media posts and school records.
And then, a photo appears - Jiang Yuer in her graduation gown, standing near the school gate.
The timestamp reads June 18th, 2009, 2:30 PM.
"Su Zheng from 2025, you need to be there at 2:15 PM," the message flashed urgently.
"But why me? Why not warn someone else?" I typed back, confusion and fear tightening my chest.
"Because you're the only one who can see the connections, the threads that bind us across time," came the reply, each word a lifeline through the chaos.
I stare at the graduation photo on my laptop, my prosthetic fingers hovering over the keyboard as another message arrives: "You must go now. The ceremony ends at 2."
The Nokia's screen flickers with urgency.
Standing up, I notice the air around my apartment door rippling like heat waves, similar to the distortions I've seen near the street light.
My heart pounds in my chest as I check the time - 1:45 PM.
The familiar weight of my winter coat slides over my shoulders as I grab my keys.
The door handle feels ice-cold against my remaining flesh hand, and the hallway beyond seems to stretch unnaturally long.
Standing in my dimly lit apartment, I pull out my laptop and connect to the school's outdated network using credentials I remembered from my IT job there last year.
My prosthetic hand moves methodically across the keyboard as I access the security mainframe.
The graduation ceremony's digital schedule appears on screen - automated door locks, stage timing, and more.
Through the rippling air near my door, I glimpse fragments of the 2009 auditorium.
My Nokia buzzes with a new message from my past self: "Jiang Yuer will exit through the east door. You must stop her."
I step through the distortion, feeling the pull of time unraveling around me.