The dazzling sun envelops the busy city, and the warm and light spring air ushers a sweet fragrance of flowers that seem to wrap around every living thing. A shower of petals paints the earth in a sophisticated pattern, giving the once colorless world a splash of vivid color, and the joyful chirping sounds swell and reverberate through the streets like a gentle aria, bringing happiness to all who hear it.

Nanjing Road is seemingly woven into a beautiful flower carpet, as people step on it strolling around their typical day. Some are coming from work; others are heading out shopping or enjoying the revitalizing warm spring day.

The world finally unveiled its beauty after it broke out of its icy winter shell.

Hu Weiqi is standing at a cross light, looking at the bright petals floating slowly in the wind, and he inhales the refreshing spring air thinking. This is his favorite time of year; he truly loves spring.

That is not to say he hates winter; he appreciates it well enough, but from an insider's perspective.

He prefers to stay inside and lounge by a window, cocooned in a warm blanket while sipping hot chocolate and watching the snowflakes dancing through the air, while the sweet aroma tickles his nose. What he hates is the chilly winter air, seeping into his bones and sapping his vitality until it freezes him from the inside.

His aversion to the cold was always a source of amusement to his friend, but he ignored it. As long as his friend did not force him to step outdoors during the winter, he could laugh all he wanted.

Weiqi hears a girl to his right arguing with her boyfriend on the phone, her temper flares as she seems mad that he is always working and does not have time to enjoy the flower viewing with her. But the expensive purse and shoes indicate exactly who's benefiting from all that time spent working. Weiqi thinks girls are just too complex and silently wishes the boyfriend good luck.

Weiqi always thought relationships are complicated; his friends were always running around being elated one day and devastated the next, it was tiring to the observer so he cannot imagine what his friends actually went through.

 In his 28 years, he never had any girlfriends, nor was he attracted to anyone enough to attempt a relationship; he prefers being single.

A life with no one reproaching him, no need to please anyone but himself, sounds heavenly to him. Call him selfish, but he likes such an easy life, who would want to invite trouble? not him.

While musing on the hardships of relationships, he sees a boy giggling foolishly every time a petal lands in his hand. Weiqi hears the mother telling the boy:

"See Xiao Hui, daddy is so happy you got first place in the class that he is throwing all these flowers from heaven to congratulate you."

The boy looks at the sky, smiles, and says in a sticky sweet voice. “Thank you for the flowers, daddy; they are really, really pretty," he whispers loudly. "Can you throw some ice cream next; Xiao Hui was a really good boy; I always ate all my vegetables and listened to Mrs. Gu at school. Oh, and Xiao Hui likes chocolate ice cream the best." Then peeks at his mother and whispers lower now, "Don't tell mother."

The people around are torn between crying and laughter; the boy is too cute and adorable. Even the mother is pretending not to hear him and is trying hard not to smile, the corners of her mouth slightly twitching.

It is a very heartwarming scene, and Weiqi smiles while looking down at the boy, such a clever child.

The woman's cell phone rings and breaks the harmonious atmosphere; as she reaches for her purse, the cell phone drops to the ground. In the split second she bends down to retrieve it, the boy sees a butterfly, and he leaps to catch it.

Because Weiqi is looking at the boy, he notices this movement and makes a split-second decision; he sees the truck barreling down; it is very close.

He lunges for the boy almost instantly and grabs the back of his jacket. The moment he feels the engine's heat on his skin, he throws the boy behind him abruptly; his shoulder aches; the boy is heavier than he looks, but there is no time for Weiqi to retreat; the impact comes fast.

Weiqi felt his whole body hurting, and even his hair felt pain. Amongst the sounds of screaming pedestrians, he could also hear his bones crunching. He felt himself being flung up as the screaming gets louder.

The pain is horrendous, and he is afraid to predict how much worse it will be once he hits the ground. He waits but notices that the pain does not intensify; instead, it seems to ebb away slowly while he is still suspended in the air; for a moment, he imagines he could be one of the many petals floating in the wind.

His mind is groggy; he thinks the impact is so strong that he seems to have broken the laws of gravity. He can even find humor in this unfortunate event and thinks. What a stupid last thought.

Weiqi is still floating as his mind starts to clear; the pain disappears completely and there is darkness all around. He wonders if he is dead and feels a thread of fear, what comes after death? He ponders.

He then thinks of the irony that he is named Weiqi "Very Lucky" and yet he dies young; he hasn't even turned 30 yet.

Ah grandpa, what about that very lucky fate of mine? That quack needs to give us a refund. But then thinks that since he is dead, maybe he can meet his grandfather again, he still misses that eccentric old man.

His maternal grandfather was always superstitious, and before his birth, he went to a Taoist temple to pray for blessing. When his grandfather came back, he was in a very happy mood, a Taoist priest divined his fate and was told the fate was "Very Lucky", and so his name was set.

As Weiqi is lamenting the irony of his name, the darkness in front of him dissipates slowly, and he feels a little dizzy. He is tensing all his muscles and bracing himself, anticipating his collision with the ground; he winces in expectation of the pain.

The sight before his eyes clears, and the pain is still absent. He is shocked as he blinks his eyes; it is currently nighttime, the moon is barely shining down, and everything seems obscured in a dark veil; he finds it hard to discern his surroundings. Looking at all those trees, he looks to be in the middle of the woods, maybe a mountain, and he feels a slightly cold chill on his skin.

Am I dead? He thinks to himself. But why is it cold? Everyone talks about how the afterlife is happy and comfortable. Even if I am in hell, where is the fire? Why is there not even a torch around?

He feels very tangled. Being dead is indeed bad, but he truly dislikes the cold; where was the warmth he was promised? He wants a refund.

"I, Tao Fenhua, am a reasonable person; you are the one who would not recognize Mount Tai in front of you. This is what you get for not knowing your place; you think that you, an orphaned nobody, could ever be equal with me. You should have just given me what I asked for and left with your tail between your legs, like the dog you are. Who do you think you are to say no to me?"

Weiqi hears the words thinking that the sentence starts with the word reasonable, yet no word that followed was even remotely reasonable.

He looks towards the voice and notices a boy of about 17-18 slightly to his left. The boy was glowering at him, and the words spoken seemed to have been aimed at Weiqi.

Surprisingly, he does not recognize this egotistical pup.

The boy sneers and continues, "Heh, now you can't even beg if you want to."

The boy is holding something that looks like a stick in his hand, and looks down to see that the other end is touching his own chest; a slightly cold sensation is seeping through his skin from that spot.

As he is about to respond, he feels a chilliness emanating from the right.

He notices a white figure out of the corner of his eye, and Weiqi turns his head.

Right there stands a young man that looks like he is in his 20s. What surprises him is that the young man is wearing a long white antique-looking robe with silver threads intertwined in an elegant pattern.

The man’s skin was almost translucent; his long inky black hair flowed freely down his back. His round face was framing a pair of sad eyes, and he looked a bit pitiful.

For some reason, Hu Wenqi thinks of his friend's white Maltese dog, Huahua. Whenever Huahua knocked over a vase, he would show a similarly sad look as he was lectured, it was endearing.

The man in white then meets Weiqi's eyes and is startled; he widens his eyes and just stares in surprise.

The young boy up front is still talking, probably about how reasonable he is or going on about his greatness, who knows. Weiqi stopped listening to him.

The boy eventually trails off when he notices something is not right. He then turns to the man in white and yells: "Stop messing around and take his soul already."

The man in white shows a very kind smile, very different than the sad look he had before, and turns to the boy saying: "I cannot, his soul does not seem to be able to be collected." a smile could be heard in his voice.

The boy's face turns red, snarling he replies "You better do as you are told, you cannot refuse me, or you will suffer the consequences. Know your place."

The boy sure seems to know everyone's place. Thinks Weiqi.

As the boy yells, he keeps poking the stick in Hu Weiqi's chest. At this point, Weiqi is annoyed; he is cold, still a little dizzy, and now this annoying boy is yelling and giving him a headache. So, he grasps the stick and yanks it from the boy's hand.

"Would you be quiet? How old are you, playing with sticks and throwing tantrums at your age?" said Weiqi.

The boy in front of him looks terrified as he seems to freeze in place.

As soon as Weiqi holds the stick, he feels a zing; the stick is shockingly cold. He does not like the sensation and is about to let go of the stick.

"May I please request this kind sir to give me the stick? I would really appreciate it." Says the man in white

Weiqi turns and looks at him, the man in white has a clear face; his eyes seem to sparkle and hold slight anticipation.

Hu Weiqi hands over the stick to the man in white; because of Huahua he has a very favorable impression of him.

The man in white then sighs contently and clutches the stick closely, holding it like he would a treasure. Weiqi's musings are interrupted by a startling sight as the stick suddenly transforms into a staff. The man in white then turns to the boy, and he points at him saying:

"We will meet again young master Tao, though it is a meeting you will not be looking forward to. Now sleep and forget."

Then the boy just disappears into thin air.

That shocked Hu Weiqi; he looked baffled at the empty space where the boy once stood.

Am I dreaming? he thinks to himself, but then he remembers the accident. Can I dream when I die? Or am I in a coma and dreaming? He scratches his head and thinks death appears to be much more complicated than he thought.

Wasn't death supposed to rid you of worldly worries? There seem to be plenty of worries now, okay? There are disappearing boys, strangely dressed men, weird sticks, and most importantly, everything is cold.

He really just wants to go home; there is still a drama he did not finish watching, and he wants to find out what happens to the villain. He wants to go home, cuddle up on his couch with his fluffy blanket, order his favorite fried chicken, and binge-watch those ridiculous palace dramas.

Then as he looks up at the man in white adds. I must also adopt a Maltese dog.