The Alien Prince Has Fallen for Me

Parallel world, 2030. Cold, hard, suffocating. That was Yue Yao’s first sensation as she regained consciousness. She lay on a complex metal bed, her head tightly enclosed in a device resembling a full motorcycle helmet, its weight pressing down on her skull. Dense cables extended from the front of the helmet, connecting to an emaciated old woman lying on another bed beside her. “God, not again… I’ve already died twice!” A desperate voice screamed deep in her mind. “Even if a global fungal outbreak is going to turn humans into slow, mindless monsters in two months, I still don’t want to die!” She tried to struggle, to shout, but her body was bound by invisible restraints — she could not move even a finger. Only her thoughts raged in despair. The anesthetic washed over her limbs like a tide, yet her senses were amplified infinitely by fear. She could hear the faint hum of machinery, smell the disinfectant in the air, and a faint, musty odor of decay from an aging body. The laboratory was lit by pale, harsh light, casting cold reflections off the metal walls. Several expressionless technicians in sterile gowns moved silently around her, like ghosts. One technician stepped to the old woman’s bed and spoke in a flat tone from his tablet: “Upon successful consciousness transfer, Ms. Mei Guo’s original body will be disposed of. All information registered under her identity ID — including DNA, iris scans, fingerprints, and physical appearance — will be replaced with Ms. Yue Yao’s. If the transfer fails, Ms. Mei Guo’s original body will be deemed deceased due to loss of consciousness. In that case, both bodies will be destroyed, and Ms. Mei Guo’s two-hundred-billion inheritance will be inherited by her fiancé, Mr. Fu Yuan.” He paused and turned to the old woman. “Ms. Mei Guo, do you confirm the start of consciousness transfer?” The old woman — Mei Guo — parted her lips and spoke in a hoarse but resolute voice: “I confirm.” The technician tapped “Confirm” on the control screen. In an instant, a faint tingling of electric current spread inside the helmet. Yue Yao’s heart clenched. The shadow of death descended again — familiar, and yet utterly terrifying. At that moment, the laboratory lights flickered violently, bright then dim, like the gasps of a dying person. “What’s happening?!” the technician cried out in alarm, scrambling at the console to no effect. Yue Yao’s heart raced so fast it felt ready to burst from her chest. She had no idea what was going on, but this disruption was a variable that had not appeared in her previous two near-death experiences. In the shadowed corner just beyond the laboratory wall, a tall, upright man — Fu Yuan — calmly adjusted an electromagnetic signal jammer in his hand. A faint smile played at his lips, his eyes sharp as a hawk’s. Suddenly, a slim figure approached like a ghost: Yu Man, in a tight bodysuit and an eye-masking visor. She struck with lightning speed, aiming directly for the jammer in Fu Yuan’s hand. Fu Yuan reacted instantly, dodging and blocking. The two tangled swiftly and silently in the dim corner, only the soft rustle of clothing and dull thuds of physical contact breaking the stillness. As they locked in a stalemate, everything around them seemed to hit pause. Sound vanished. Floating dust particles hung frozen in the air. Even Fu Yuan and Yu Man, locked in combat, were motionless. A man — Xing Hun — walked calmly out of the frozen time and space. Ignoring the two immobilized figures, he stepped straight to Fu Yuan, picked up the electromagnetic jammer, and skillfully altered several settings. Then he reached up and gently lifted Yu Man’s visor, revealing a pair of beautiful eyes filled with malice. Xing Hun looked at her and sighed softly, his tone complicated. “This persistent woman…” He bent, lifted the motionless Yu Man in his arms, and vanished into the shadows of the corner. The next moment, time resumed its flow. Fu Yuan only felt a brief blur. The jammer in his hand seemed to have been tampered with, yet Yu Man was gone. He looked down and pressed the jammer anyway. Inside the laboratory, tiny sparks crackled along the cables connected to Mei Guo’s helmet. The old woman’s body convulsed violently, and a wisp of acrid smoke curled from the helmet’s seams. The technicians panicked, cutting the power and removing Mei Guo’s helmet. Inside, parts of the old woman’s scalp were scorched red. Her eyes were wide open — she was dead. Terrified, they quickly removed Yue Yao’s helmet and found her pale and sweating, but her head unharmed. The technician forced himself calm, wiped his sweat, and asked according to protocol: “Please provide the body reboot password.” Password! Yue Yao’s heart sank. She had died last time precisely because she did not know it. She had been declared a failed transfer, injected with euthanasia, and her consciousness had sunk into darkness. When she woke again, she was back in the room where the mad doctor had imprisoned her — and on the floor lay a note, seemingly out of nowhere, that read: Password is six zeros. A trap? Or a lifeline? She could not tell. But it was her only hope. The technician’s voice grew urgent: “No answer within ten seconds, and the transfer is declared a failure.” Ten… nine… eight… The countdown to death roared in her ears. “Fine, I’ll die trying! Even if I die ten thousand times, I’ll keep guessing until I get it!” A fierce resolve rose in Yue Yao’s chest. She summoned all her strength and whispered: “Six zeros.” The technician entered the password. The screen flashed green: Verification Passed. He exhaled in relief. “Password correct. Beginning identity ID information replacement.” An overwhelming wave of relief washed over Yue Yao. She had made it. She wasn’t going to die this time. “Wait fifteen minutes for the anesthetic to wear off, Ms. Mei Guo, and you may return home,” the technician said, removing the IV drip from her arm. Weakly, Yue Yao uttered two words: “Thank you…” The laboratory door slid open. An extraordinarily handsome man, with an air of subtle charm, strode in. He went straight to the bed, pulled her into a passionate kiss, and spoke in a deep, magnetic voice: “Darling, congratulations on your new life.” Yue Yao froze, her mind going blank. This was Mei Guo’s fiancé, Fu Yuan? Mei Guo certainly had good taste. She forced herself into character, mimicking what she imagined Mei Guo would sound like, and replied with feigned enthusiasm: “Thank you, darling! This new body is wonderful.” Fu Yuan chuckled low and leaned in to kiss her again, his breath warm. “Yes. We’ll have to celebrate properly tonight.” Yue Yao blushed fiercely, her heart racing. Wait — a handsome fiancé, just like that? Noticing the stiffness in his companion’s body, Fu Yuan studied the panic in Yue Yao’s eyes, then smiled knowingly to himself. She was almost certainly not Mei Guo. And that might make her even more useful. “I’ll take you to the fashion boutique to pick out some evening gowns,” Fu Yuan lifted her in his arms, his movements gentle yet possessive. “At tonight’s charity auction ball, we’ll be the most stunning couple in the room.” “Okay,” Yue Yao leaned against him, trying to sound natural. Right now, she was Mei Guo — chairwoman of Phantom Brain Technology, worth hundreds of billions, with an unbelievably handsome fiancé. Everything felt like a dream, yet terrifyingly real. She had no idea how long she could keep up this glamorous facade, or how many eyes were watching her from the dark. But at the very least, she had survived this round of death. And the note with the password, along with the strange malfunction in the laboratory… They lingered in her mind like unsolved mysteries.