Since the introduction of electric lights and television, the millennia-old fixed routines of the Taoyuan villagers had been completely shattered. Every evening, people acted as if it were a festival, visiting neighbors until the early hours of the morning when things finally quieted down.

The cultural shift had brought a profound impact to the people of Taoyuan. The noisy little village finally fell silent, and Wang Zhuo lay alone on the double bed on the second floor of the RV, his gaze traveling through the roof as he admired the enchanting starry sky of the mountain village, his mood light and peaceful.

Qi Fei and Guan Yingying were staying at Meng Mingliang’s house again tonight, and Lu Weimin and the female bodyguards had arranged separate lodging. He himself stayed in the vehicle, allowing him to conduct certain private activities.

After satisfying his view, Wang Zhuo left the bedroom for the study, sharpened a pencil, placed a sheet of blank paper on the desk and fixed it with a strong magnet. Taking a deep breath, he stared intently at the paper and began to sketch furiously with his pencil.

He drew with incredible speed, without sketching or composing first. Vast swathes of patterns leaped onto the paper wherever the lead touched, as if the paper beneath held a ready-made image for him to trace.

In moments, the outline of the entire scene materialized on the sheet. The main subject was Taoyuan Village under the starry night sky: the old trees and flourishing blossoms of the green street, the small bridge, flowing water, and the homes.

One could clearly discern which gates were closed and which houses still held a light. It was a clumsy, hybrid piece of realism—lacking mature technique or the essence of impressionism, failing even to establish a clear hierarchy between primary and secondary elements.

Yet, one could argue it was entirely its own style, unprecedented and impossible for anyone else to replicate except its creator, Wang Zhuo. After finishing the outline, Wang Zhuo focused on adding detail to elements that had particularly caught his attention: the "dish" antennas atop the utility poles, the motorcycle parked in He Gen's yard, the few houses still lit up, and a large calico cat emerging to forage.

These subconscious additions became the soul of the drawing, breathing life into the entire piece. Though the technique remained naive, it transformed into a rare and vividly evocative work.

Suddenly, the scratching sound of the paper and pencil ceased abruptly. He swiftly lifted the pen, his slightly unfocused gaze snapping into sharp concentration.

He closed his eyes for a moment to rest before slowly opening them again. Looking at the completed drawing on the desk, a satisfied smile spread across his face, and he muttered to himself, "I never realized I could use X-ray vision this way." After admiring it for a while, he set the finished drawing aside, laid down a fresh sheet of paper, and paused to think.

He decided to use a cross-section of the RV as his subject. First, he used his X-ray vision to select the optimal cross-section, held his breath, and memorized the image for several seconds.

When his gaze returned to the blank paper, the entire scene immediately projected itself onto the sheet. This drawing method was inspired by what he observed earlier that day while Meng Shengdi was swimming the backstroke.

He realized he could leverage the visual persistence effect experienced when closing one’s eyes. The principle was to make the desired scene persist visually in his eyes for a moment, then project that persistent image onto the paper, tracing it stroke by stroke.

This was a simple camera obscura effect. When the eye is in darkness, if a fleeting flash of light suddenly appears before it, the image captured by that light remains on the retina for a few extra seconds—this phenomenon is known as visual persistence.

Another simple demonstration of visual persistence is waving a cigarette ember in the dark; the eye perceives the ember not as a moving red dot, but as a swirling red line—a typical manifestation of visual persistence. Wang Zhuo was currently applying a functional twist to his X-ray vision, extending the duration of visual persistence significantly, then projecting that sustained image onto the paper, and finally rendering it line by line, just like tracing a picture.

... The experiment was a resounding success.

The RV cross-section he drew rivaled the renderings produced by 3D computer modeling, giving a refreshingly novel impression. It reminded him of a manga called City Hunter, where the protagonists' bodies gradually dematerialize during temporal transport, revealing their internal structures.

Wang Zhuo held up the second piece for inspection. The brushwork in this drawing was much more skilled than the first, appearing less awkward.

If the first piece was an impressionistic landscape, this one was a trendy work steeped in industrial flavor and a sense of the era. His creative impulse surged; he immediately unfurled another sheet of paper, sharpened his pencil, and started drawing again.

This time, he depicted a classic game of cat and mouse: the exciting moment when the foraging calico cat pounced on a mouse darting from its hole. Unfortunately, after finishing, he realized his skill was still insufficient; he had captured the form but missed the spirit.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't perfectly convey the terror reflected in the mouse's eyes at the instant of being ambushed. Despite this, the drawing was quite striking.

Considering Wang Zhuo's artistic ability barely qualified as amateur—perhaps only at a junior high level—producing such a lifelike work was satisfying enough. After drawing three scenes based on external objects, his thoughts inevitably strayed.

One can easily guess what occupies the mind of a young man in his twenties. He let out a few sly chuckles and closed his eyes in deep thought.

Soon, he opened his eyes with a wry smile. Although he remembered many past events vividly, the scenes themselves had degraded into highly abstract concepts in his mind.

He could recall the details, but the concrete images were gone, making them impossible to draw. At that moment, he felt a pang of regret, muttering with a bitter smile, "If I had known, I really should have taken pictures back then." Pictures of what?

Of course, the very things Brother Edison loved to collect—recording life's beautiful moments through photography. Brother Edison is truly a model hero for our generation!

It seemed X-ray vision wasn't omnipotent after all. It could render heaven and earth, but it couldn't capture the past or the future.

Wang Zhuo shrugged helplessly, his gaze passing through the vehicle body as he surveyed the entire Taoyuan Village under the night sky, searching for something on which to apply his new ability. Huh?

Was that light coming from Cousin's room? Lu Weimin and his group were staying in an old, vacant house.

The elderly owner had moved in with his son to be cared for after his wife passed away. The house had been renovated and was temporarily empty, awaiting the grandson's wedding next month, so it was loaned out to Lu Weimin for temporary lodging.

Could Cousin have started a life of nightly revelry? Wang Zhuo was greatly curious.

He scanned the area with his vision and pierced through to the room. The scene inside surprised Wang Zhuo.

Lu Weimin and the four female bodyguards were all present. Each held a beer bottle, sitting knee-to-knee on the kang (heated brick bed), chatting in low voices.

The atmosphere seemed warm and friendly rather than overtly flirtatious. Wang Zhuo watched for a while, finding the situation both amusing and ridiculous.

They were playing the ancient game of Truth or Dare. They rotated clockwise, and after answering the previous person's question, each would pose a question to the next.

Based on the drift, their questions were starting to lean toward the risqué, as one woman was already asking her neighbor to confess how many men she had slept with. Wang Zhuo watched for a bit before withdrawing his gaze, mentally grumbling about Cousin Lu Weimin: why play Truth or Dare during such prime time?

Wouldn't a round of finger-guessing and strip-down be more practical? This was boring.

In the darkness, a thin, pale figure suddenly caught his attention. Focusing his gaze, he realized it was the village teacher, Sun Jinshan, unable to bear the heat and taking a naked shower in the courtyard.

His skin was unnaturally white for a man, and he looked somewhat bony, standing out starkly against the night. Seeing his clearly unexercised physique, Wang Zhuo had a sudden flash of inspiration—a rather good idea.

The rooster crowed, signaling the arrival of a new day. Breakfast was laid out at Meng Mingliang's house.

Everyone was seated, but Wang Zhuo was conspicuously absent. "Sheng Nan, go ask your Uncle Wang Zhuo to come eat," Meng's wife instructed her second daughter.

"Sister-in-law, I'll go," Qi Fei quickly stood up. Wang Zhuo had peculiar habits, and it was better for a young girl like Meng Sheng Nan not to witness such things.

"I'll go, I'm fast!" Meng Sheng Di jumped up and bolted out of the yard in an instant. Qi Fei had no choice but to sit back down with a wry smile.

Reflecting, she realized she hadn't run so freely since graduating from university. Was this the price of being a proper lady?

A short while later, Meng Sheng Di returned, pouting aggrievedly, "I couldn't get into the vehicle; I shouted for a long time, but no one opened the door." "Sister should go call him then," Guan Yingying said with a smile towards Qi Fei. Qi Fei agreed, and only as she reached the door did she notice the peculiar hint in Guan Yingying's smile, suddenly understanding the implication.

So, Guan Yingying thought Wang Zhuo had deliberately engineered this situation to create time alone with Qi Fei, hoping for a good morning service! She had to admit, Wang Zhuo really had done things like that before—more than once.

Qi Fei couldn't help but smile wryly, thinking, Well, Yingying, trying to catch me out, huh? I’ll settle this score later.

The thought of that mischievous Wang Zhuo sitting like a lord in the sofa, waiting for her to attend to him, made Qi Fei’s cheeks flush, and her saliva production increased significantly; she swallowed several times. There’s an old saying describing female desire: thirty like a wolf, forty like a tiger.

Qi Fei had just entered that "tiger-wolf" phase, and Wang Zhuo hadn't shared an intimate moment with her for days. Now that the opportunity had arrived, her heart swelled with anticipation, and her steps became noticeably lighter.

Reaching the base of the RV, she called out a few times but received no response. She walked around to the driver's side and pulled the door open, climbing into the vehicle that way.

In the main bedroom on the second floor, she indeed found Wang Zhuo sprawled out in a wide 'X' shape, completely naked, a faint smile playing on his lips, looking as if he were sleeping soundly.