O Maquinista na Casa Quadrada

Pain.

Intense pain.

Li Aiguo gritted his teeth, enduring the torment as he slowly opened his eyes. The agony on his face was quickly replaced by astonishment.

A soot-blackened ceiling, walls stained with grime, a crooked square table, a stool with a broken leg, an old-fashioned iron thermos, and a washstand made from rebar—these were all the furnishings of the room.

In the corner, thick webs of spiders crowded together; the window was battered and draughty, its panes patched with yellowed old newspapers. Dampness filled the air, lending the room an aged atmosphere. The only thing that stood out was the brightly colored calendar on the wall.

"1956"—those vivid red characters struck Li Aiguo’s gaze, sending a sharp pain through his head.

Memories from the previous owner of the body surged over him like a tide, threatening to drown him.

It was true. Like many ambitious youths on Planet Blue, Li Aiguo had crossed over—traveled through time—to this fervent era.

The original owner’s name was also Li Aiguo, eighteen years old this year, and motherless since childhood. His father had been a proud train driver.

The trains of that era were primitive, their safety minimal. During an emergency, the father was gravely injured; after months bedridden, he passed away. Li Aiguo had been just fifteen then—not yet old enough to inherit his father’s post, so he entered the Railway Academy to study.

After three years of diligent study, the original Li Aiguo graduated, and only a skills test stood between him and becoming