The room fell silent for a moment, with only the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead breaking the stillness. Dr. Lin adjusted her glasses and gave a slow, assessing glance toward Shang Jianyao.
The old clock in the activity center creaked noisily as its second hand trudged forward. After what seemed like an eternity, the aging clock's groans finally gave way to the soft flicker of the LCD screen on the wall, which sprang to life with lines of text.
Meng Xia and the others quickly scanned the display, their eyes darting from one name to the next. When they spotted their own names on the list, relief washed over them. It wasn't joy or excitement, just an indifferent acknowledgment—they'd passed. For most of them, the experience was no different from taking any other exam: as long as the results weren't disastrous, everything was fine. After all, their parents, grandparents, and even great-grandparents had endured the same system.
But for a handful, there was an undercurrent of confusion. They didn't recognize the names of their assigned partners. Who were they? Which floor were they from? What departments did their families belong to? Even after attending university and achieving higher education, their social circles had remained stubbornly small, limited to classmates and neighbors from the same floors.
Amid the quiet murmurs of the group, Long Yuehong frowned and muttered, "Why isn't my name here?"
"Maybe your name just isn't good enough," quipped the man beside him, Shang Jianyao, with a deadpan expression.
Long Yuehong opened his mouth to retort but stopped. As much as he hated to admit it, there was a grain of truth in the remark.
Thousands of individuals had been subjected to this mandatory matchmaking process, and only two men hadn't been paired. If he wasn't unlucky, then what else could it be?
"Well, your name isn't here either!" Long Yuehong shot back after a moment's pause, his voice tinged with righteous indignation.
"I told you, I already applied to opt out of this round," Shang Jianyao replied with a faint smile.
"You what?!" Long Yuehong was stunned. "The company approved that? How… how is that even possible?"
Over the course of his 21 years, Long Yuehong had heard occasional rumors of individuals not participating in the unified matchmaking. But in every case, it was because the person in question was either bedridden or away on a dangerous mission with the security department. For anyone healthy and present within the company, refusal wasn't just unthinkable—it was an outright violation of policy.
"It's one of our core obligations as employees!" he exclaimed, his voice growing shriller with disbelief.
"Sure," Shang Jianyao shrugged nonchalantly. "But the company agreed, so here we are."
Long Yuehong's expression twisted in despair. If Shang Jianyao truly had opted out, that meant there was only one unmatched man left in the entire process—him.
The realization hit him like a freight train. "I'm the only unlucky one…"
Before he could spiral further, a commotion erupted behind him. A group of women was huddled around the screen, their voices rising in surprise.
"Meng Xia, your husband is an outsider!"
The group collectively turned their attention to Meng Xia, who was staring at the screen with a complicated expression. She read aloud, her voice soft but steady:
"Zhang Lei. Male. Born: Wilderness Drifter. Age: 25. Recruited by the company three years ago. Consistently excellent performance. No health concerns. Residence: Floor 622, Zone A, Room 192. Employee Level: D4. Electronic Card Number: 04311029189..."
"An outsider, huh?" Long Yuehong muttered, exchanging glances with the others.
The company's practice of recruiting wilderness drifters to bolster their population wasn't a secret, but it wasn't exactly commonplace on their floor. Most residents treated it as an interesting anecdote, something that happened to other people in other places.
"Honestly, it's not that bad," offered a girl in a green top, nudging Meng Xia sympathetically. "He's a D4 employee and only 25! That's pretty impressive!"
"Yeah, but genetic modifications made after adulthood aren't as effective…" someone else murmured.
As the screen scrolled through more names and pairings, one particular match stood out:
"Zhou Qi. Female. Born: Internal Employee. Age: 30. Widowed five years ago, raising one child. Voluntarily applied for this round. No health concerns. Residence: Floor 569, Zone B, Room 27. Employee Level: D4…"
"Yang Zhenyuan," Long Yuehong blurted, "your wife is ten years older than you!"
Yang Zhenyuan's face flushed a deep red. He opened his mouth, only to close it again without saying a word.
By the time the group had committed their respective pairings to memory, the hall began to empty. Those who'd found their partners hurried off to make contact, while the rest trudged home, resigned to their fates.
Long Yuehong lingered in the near-empty hall, sighing heavily. "What do I do now?"
"Great things await you," Shang Jianyao said solemnly.
"Speak like a normal person!"
"Fine," Shang Jianyao smirked. "Wait for next year's matchmaking round."
"Fair enough," Long Yuehong sighed, shaking his head.
As the pair stepped out into the corridor, the artificial lights above cast their usual fluorescent glow. The ceiling, a mere four meters above their heads, stretched on endlessly. For those living within the company's vast underground facility, the lights dictated their sense of time: when they were on, it was day; when they were off, it was night.
Shang Jianyao's gaze flicked to the lights before he turned sharply, heading toward a different section of Zone C.
After a series of turns and elevators, he eventually stopped before a nondescript door at the end of a hallway.
A soft, measured voice called out from within: "Come in."
Pushing open the door, Shang Jianyao stepped into a modest office. Behind the desk sat a woman in a white coat, her hair neatly pinned and a gold-rimmed pair of glasses perched on her nose.
"Afternoon, Dr. Lin," he greeted cheerfully.
"Afternoon, Shang," she replied with a faint smile. "How have you been feeling?"
"Great!" he exclaimed, flexing his biceps for emphasis. "Eating well, sleeping well. Ready to save the world!"
Dr. Lin paused, her pen hovering over her notes. "Still fixated on that?"
"Absolutely."
She sighed, circling a line in his file: Moderate Mental Anomalies (Suspected Delusional Disorder – Monitoring Required).