Could this be it?

In Hong Kong, a city hailed as one of the Four Asian Tigers, the presence of foreigners is hardly unusual. Given its history under British rule, no one here would pay special attention to a foreigner’s odd behavior.

Disguised as a foreigner, Li Daniu—a man from the Celestial Empire—embarked on a daily journey by bus in Hong Kong, all for the noble cause of ensuring the livelihood of eleven thousand citizens. With over two hundred minibuses and dozens of routes, Li Daniu crafted the most meticulous schedule of his life, following it with unwavering discipline as he began his existence aboard public transportation.

If, like in the movies, one takes the bus at the precise moment Andy Lau’s character meets the mysterious girl, three months would never suffice to ride every bus even once. Multiple buses depart at the same time, and Li Daniu, lacking the power to be in two places at once, could not possibly board them all.

Moreover, the girl from the crowd is not like a game’s NPC, appearing on the same bus at the same time every day. In these few days, Li Daniu realized that although he was in a world he’d seen in a film, everything here was as real as the world he came from. Each person was a living being, striving for their own dreams in this city.

Through the internet, Li Daniu discovered that this world, just like Earth, was made up of over two hundred countries and regions, with a population exceeding six billion, and news breaking every day.

He had neither the time nor the energy to ponder whether this world was fabricated by the system or one among countless parallel universes. All his energy was devoted to riding buses.

A chance encounter depends entirely on luck. If fortune smiled, it might happen on the very first day; if not, perhaps never. Realizing how tight his schedule was, Li Daniu began waking up early each morning.

Since she took the bus home from work, it was likely that she also rode the bus to work every morning. As for the remote possibility that she had a daily carpool, Li Daniu doubted his luck could be that poor.

Life in Hong Kong is unrelentingly fast-paced. At this time, the city’s public transportation could not keep up with its citizens’ needs, so those who had to work rose very early.

Li Daniu was on the verge of tears. Before his journey through time, though life wasn’t spectacular, his job rigidly adhered to a nine-to-five schedule, and his home was a mere five-minute walk from the office. He had never woken before eight-thirty.

Now, despite being on the supposed path to greatness—after all, Tuvalu, however undeveloped, is still a country, and he its king—Li Daniu found himself waking at five every morning to squeeze onto a crowded bus.

“This is just too much!”

For someone as lazy as Li Daniu, he would never stand if he could sit, nor sit if he could lie down. Even cornered, he would always seek a shortcut rather than hack his way through obstacles.

So, wracking his mortal brain for ideas, he devised a plan. But when he set it in motion, he was met with swift rejection.

Posing as a reporter from National Geographic, Li Daniu approached the three bus companies operating the two hundred minibuses, requesting access to their onboard surveillance footage under the pretext of researching Hong Kong’s local customs. In truth, he hoped to spot the mysterious girl in the videos.

But reality is ever ready to dash one’s imaginings.

First, though Hong Kong was booming in 1999, surveillance equipment was still considered high-end, much like the early mobile phones compared to later models—expensive and barely functional in comparison. Li Daniu, accustomed to the future, had overlooked the fact that few buses in 1999 were equipped with cameras, and the footage from the few that were was nearly useless due to poor image quality.

Next, when he proposed buying cameras with his own limited funds and having drivers photograph passengers, the three companies replied: “We have no objections, but you must secure legal approval from the relevant authorities.”

Finally, after making the rounds through foreign affairs, the police, and the transport bureau, Li Daniu learned that approval was possible—on the condition that any photos released must have the consent of both the government and those pictured. Li Daniu had no intention of publishing the images; he merely wanted to identify someone, so this was acceptable. However, the approval process would take about three months.

“In three months I’ll be sent back—what’s the point of all this paperwork?” Disheartened, Li Daniu wandered the streets of Hong Kong. It was midday, a time when taking the bus would be pointless.

To the people of this era, Hong Kong is dazzling, but Li Daniu scoffed inwardly. No matter how vibrant it is now, could it surpass the mainland’s great cities two decades later? He had traversed the likes of Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen—none of which he had ever settled in, but still, he had seen enough to know.

Bored, Li Daniu checked his watch and considered whether to make better use of his time—perhaps by calling the smiling receptionist he saw every day. Though he’d only be in this world for three months and could hardly be responsible for her, was it really so wrong to indulge his heart?

As the angel and devil in his mind each urged him with compelling arguments to join their side, Li Daniu suddenly spotted a familiar face in the distance.

Familiar, yes, but only to him; the man would never recognize Li Daniu, whether as his old self or his new one.

After crossing into the world of the film, Li Daniu was unsurprised, even excited, to spot someone familiar—he had just seen Sean Lau.

Indeed, Sean Lau, a well-known actor from Li Daniu’s original world, and one of the protagonists in this very film.

Why the excitement? Li Daniu had always wondered whether the key characters in this world would look like the actors who played them in the film. If they all had unfamiliar faces, then even if their actions and personalities matched the movie, it would be a tragedy for Li Daniu, who relied on recognizing them.

After all, the system offered neither starter packs nor upgrade bonuses, nor any lottery draws. Everything depended on his own efforts. Not that he was dissatisfied; who could complain about having a system at all? The challenge itself was the appeal, especially for someone who had yet to develop a conqueror’s heart.

Knowing the plot was Li Daniu’s greatest advantage. To capitalize on storylines, he needed to identify the main characters—otherwise, fleeting opportunities would slip away.

The girl he’d been searching for these past days, for example—he couldn’t possibly sketch her, as she only appeared for a few minutes and he couldn’t recall her from any other classic role. Yet, if she appeared before him, he’d recognize her instantly.

All of this, however, rested on the assumption that the actress in this world was the same as in the original. Otherwise, even if they met, he would not know her.

Overcome with excitement, Li Daniu instinctively followed Sean Lau. Not far ahead, he saw him enter a bowling alley.

“Could this be…?” Li Daniu paused, realizing the plot was about to unfold.