Chapter 5: Encounter

Words : 2044 Updated : Nov 6th, 2025

When it came time to haul the books home, Jason hit a wall. There were more than two hundred of them. Without a car, there was no way to get them home. This world didn't have Storage Rings to stash everything at once. When Jason tried to return a few volumes for some cash to grab a cab, the shopkeeper couldn't be bothered to argue. He just propped up a placard on the counter that read, "Books sold, no returns." People could be pretty heartless. Jason stood in the night wind for half an hour, letting it buffet him. "Hey, kid, where to? I'll give you a lift." A cargo truck rolled to a stop in front of him. The window slid down, and a man in his forties leaned over and waved. Jason didn't waste words. He started loading the books. He recognized the type of truck, the kind that made money hauling goods. He didn't have any cash, but so what? Beggars can't be choosers. He'd figure it out when they got there; worst case, the guy would just take him back. Seeing him hefting boxes, the driver got out to help. The truck was a little grimy, so the driver handled the books with care, as if afraid to smudge a page. Jason noticed. "You're a college kid, aren't you?" As soon as they were in the cab, the driver started chatting. "No. I graduated." Jason took the passenger seat and looked out the window at Anville's skyline. The city lights blazed in a jeweled sprawl, a world apart from the Cultivation World, where after dark only great clans and sects kept an Eternal Lamp burning. "Graduated and still buying this many books? If only my daughter were half as diligent," the man said, a born talker. "I bought them just to pass the time." "Right, I'm Luke. What should I call you?" "Jason Sowden," he said, keeping it short. At the bookstore, the owner had smiled and bowed when he saw how many books Jason piled up, then changed his tune the moment the bill was paid. If this guy found out Jason was hitching a free ride, who knew what his reaction would be? Best to say less. Seeing Jason's lack of interest, Luke changed the topic. "You hear? Big news in Anville today. The Santee family's heiress ran off with a big movie star right in the middle of her engagement banquet." "Yeah, and the jilted groom had your surname, too. Sowden. Jason... something." Huh? Turns out the gossip was about him. Had word traveled that fast? The banquet had ended only hours earlier, and it was already all over town and on every station. "Everyone knows?" Jason asked, uncertain. "Oh, it was wild. I was hauling earlier, and every station on the dial was talking about it." Luke's face lit up. For regular folks like them, rich-people drama was prime dinner-table gossip. "Let me tell you, that groom was a real pushover. His wife ran off in public and he didn't even say a word." I did speak up. You just didn't hear it. "What would you do in his shoes?" Jason asked, amused. "I'd have..." Luke started to say he'd have called it off on the spot, then thought it through, his tone loosening. "Ah, when you're young, you don't know how sweet it is to let your wife support you." He chuckled at his own boldness. Jason laughed. By the time they reached his place, it was half past ten. After the last box was off the truck, Jason said, "I don't have any money." Luke just laughed, a big, warm smile. "It's the end of my shift anyway, and this was on my way. No charge." Before Jason could thank him, Luke pulled the driver's door shut and lifted a hand. "I'm off," he called, and prepared to go. Jason smiled. Maybe the world wasn't so cold, and people were not so jaded after all. "Wait," he called. "What is it, kid?" Luke asked, puzzled. "You've got a bit of a shadow on you. Tonight might not go smoothly. Trouble's likely between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. Even if you're not tired, pull over and take a break." "You know how to read that?" Luke asked, curious. "Divination isn't my strong suit. The stars lined up tonight, so I managed to catch a small glimpse," Jason said honestly. He'd studied a bit of divination in his past life, but not much. He could only use it under certain skies at specific hours, unlike those cultivators who specialized in the art. "All right, I hear you. I'll be careful." Luke smiled. He didn't take it too seriously, rolled up the window, and drove off. Jason said no more. He'd done his part. The rest was up to Luke. He carried the books inside. There were a lot of them. He sorted them quickly, then started with history and general knowledge. He read fast, a page in a second or two, and he retained it all. He'd already noticed that books in this world were nothing like cultivation manuals or a jade slip. They were plain and straightforward, easy to grasp at a glance. Even the densest advanced math and physics weren't a fraction as hard as an entry-level energy-refining manual from his previous life. Better still, he discovered he still had a trace of spiritual sense. It had dwindled to almost nothing, but there was a flicker left. Just as he was getting lost in his books, the front door opened at the worst possible moment. He frowned. Did someone else live here, or was it a burglar? Either way, he went to investigate. Margaret dug through her bag for the keycard to the apartment. She had fled the engagement in a burst of impulse. Her parents and her grandfather were surely still furious. She decided not to go back to the villa that night. She would crash at a high-end condo she'd bought earlier and talk things over once tempers cooled. There were too many cards in her bag. After rummaging for a while, she found the right one. She opened the door and saw all the lights on. Her first thought was that the place had sat empty too long and someone had broken in. She grabbed her phone, punched in the police hotline, and hovered her thumb over the call icon. Standing there in her entryway was her fiancé, Jason. "What are you doing here?" "What are you doing here?" They spoke in unison. After a beat, Margaret asked first, "Why are you in my home?" "This is your place?" Jason asked, not entirely sure. That felt wrong. His memories only held this address as home. Could it really not be his? Even with imperfectly inherited memories, he shouldn't have gotten the place wrong. "Obviously. Want me to fetch the deed to show you?" Margaret's temper flared. It was bad enough that this man was in her home in the middle of the night, and he had the nerve to pretend otherwise. "And how do you even have my key?" Right. If it wasn't his place, why did he have a key? Jason raked his memory. This really wasn't his apartment. Salvatore had bought it for Margaret to be close to work. Normally, Margaret only stayed here a few days when she worked late. Once Salvatore had decided on their match, he'd brought Jason over and handed him a key, hoping the two would grow closer. Out of respect for Margaret, the Jason from before had never spent a night here. After Jason's rebirth, his imperfectly inherited memories kept Margaret in sharp focus, and he'd subconsciously taken this place for his own. Now it was his turn to feel awkward. What was this? Had he inherited a lovestruck fool? Margaret clearly remembered her grandfather had given him a key, and she stopped pressing. At a time like this, a tactful man would excuse himself, hand the key back to the woman of the house, and leave. She waited. He didn't move. Given how thick-skinned Jason was, "tactful" wasn't exactly his thing. Be serious. It was the dead of night, he had more than two hundred books, and he'd even hitched a free ride. And she still expected him to go?

Chapter 5: Encounter

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