Plane mirror imaging was a physical phenomenon often abbreviated as “mirror image.” The image in the mirror was virtual.
Yi Shi looked at the world in the glass that didn’t exist, then looked at Lin Heyu, and couldn’t help but wonder: Is he real? In his eyes, am I also an indescribable existence?
The people who accompanied Lin Heyu at Southern Cheng’an Cemetery that day definitely didn’t belong to the world he was in. Miaomiao, that child, accidentally bumped into him, which caused him to step into another world and couldn’t find his parents, right? No wonder he said the names on the tombstones were different because the owners of the two graves were not the same person at all.
Lin Heyu was still intently staring at the sticky note, not noticing the complex expression in Yi Shi’s eyes. He took out a pen from his pocket. “Tell me, which case is it related to?”
Yi Shi remained silent for a long time, and Lin Heyu finally looked up, discovering that the other’s deep black eyes were staring at him without blinking, even the frequency of blinking had slowed down.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Heyu subconsciously rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, thinking that he had gotten some sauce on it while eating pasta.
Yi Shi suddenly stood up, and his hands reached out to touch his face.
To say he touched his face isn’t correct, because there was no ambiguity or romance in the action; rather, it felt like probing, like confirming something. His fingers were long and pale, nails neatly trimmed, with a faint pearly sheen, and the skin at the fingertips was cool, likely due to poor circulation in the winter causing cold hands and feet.
Those hands moved from Lin Heyu’s cheeks to his chiseled features, carefully touching inch by inch along the sharp brows, then to the high nose bridge. As the fingers moved, they gradually absorbed the warmth from his cheeks, becoming as cold as his fingers.
“Have you confirmed?” Lin Heyu looked up at Yi Shi.
Yi Shi bent over, leaning in, and the skin under his hands was warm, a healthy wheat color, not delicate but full of elasticity, the touch belonging to healthy human skin.
He was truly real, not just something that could be seen, but someone who could talk, touch, someone with warmth, thoughts, and personality, a living person, not a mere virtual image in the mirror.
For some reason, Yi Shi felt a sense of relief in his heart. His gaze fell on the warm yellow light on Lin Heyu’s shoulder, puzzling for a second, he looked out the window. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sky was filled with fiery clouds, the sunset orange-red, casting rays of afterglow, with half of its face hidden in the golden-edged clouds, the other half overlooking the entire land.
This was Lin Heyu’s world, right? The clock face reflected in the dark tea-colored glass showed the hour hand between 7 and 8, which was the time in his own world. It was because he touched Lin Heyu that he came here, stepping into the mirrored world seen in the glass.
Perhaps due to an exceptionally strong psychological endurance, Yi Shi easily accepted this strange setup. He didn’t show any panic, not even a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Lin Heyu was still cooperating with his movements, raising his chin, quietly waiting for his answer. Yi Shi looked down at him, and after a few seconds, gently nodded. “Mm.”
Lin Heyu’s hand touched Yi Shi’s cold wrist, the skin beneath his palm delicate and smooth. Just from the touch, it was hard to imagine it was the hand of a nearly 1.8-meter-tall man. But Yi Shi was already remarkably good-looking, every part of him was so exquisite, matching such cold white and delicate skin.
He grasped that hand, rubbing it in his palm, trying to transfer some warmth. “Although I don’t know what you’re confirming, you should wear more in the future, your hands are very cold.”
“…” Yi Shi’s gaze was colder than his fingers, looking at him like he was staring at a rogue.
It seemed like there were only the two of them in each other’s eyes, neither noticing that their actions had long been taken in by others, causing the bystanders’ psychological defenses to crumble into pieces.
“Damn! Captain Lin!” Wen Huabei exclaimed softly, his mouth covered by Yuan Maoqiu. Yuan Maoqiu’s mind was running wild. Damn you, Lin Heyu, no wonder you didn’t let us come up; you were here on a date with a man?!
Look at these actions, touching faces, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes, the pink bubbles were about to flood the second floor. Can’t you two be a bit more mindful of the impact? Our country’s customs aren’t open to this extent yet, Brother Lin! Didn’t you see the couple at the table across from you looking strange? They’re already planning to record a video to post on social media!
For the first time, Yuan Maoqiu realized that his good brother of over ten years, who seemed so serious and unsmiling, was actually reserved and shy. No wonder he always had a stern face at the bureau, it was because he hadn’t found someone to express his affection to. Now, looking at the handsome young man, his eyes were gentle, smiling more tenderly than at his own sister.
Wen Huabei’s worldview was also shattered. Curiosity killed the cat. Just because he had nothing to do downstairs, he came up quietly to take a look. This was his retribution. He hadn’t even reached the top when he saw through the railing that Captain Lin was gazing deeply at a delicate and extraordinarily handsome young man with red lips and white teeth.
This face-touching scene, this interlocking of fingers, this affectionate gaze—wasn’t this the perfect setup for a borderline romantic drama? Could I watch this for free? If this year’s “Boys’ Love 101” didn’t feature you two, I wouldn’t watch it!
Right after, Yuan Maoqiu came up and was also clearly shocked by the scene. The two of them stood dumbly on the stairs, only showing half their heads and watching from afar, very tactfully not rushing over to ruin the atmosphere. They deeply understood one principle: interrupting someone else’s romance is asking to be struck by lightning, regardless of whether it’s heterosexual or homosexual.
“Can you let go?” Yi Shi said calmly.
Only then did Lin Heyu release him, lightly coughing. “Just warming your hand.”
Yi Shi withdrew his hand, sat down again, and keenly noticed two scorching gazes. His sharp eyes scanned towards their source.
Yuan Maoqiu was startled and pressed Wen Huabei’s head down to hide below the stairs. His years as a criminal police officer had not been in vain; his reaction was quick and his movements smooth and swift. Yi Shi’s eye-daggers only managed to slice off a strand of hair.
“Who?” Lin Heyu stood up and looked around. Yuan Maoqiu hurriedly pointed downstairs, his lips moving as he urged Wen Huabei to go down. What were they standing around for, waiting to be caught in the act?
Wen Huabei, unwilling to leave the lively scene, showed a reluctant expression. The two pushed and shoved each other down the stairs, almost bumping into a waiter carrying a tray.
Lin Heyu guessed it was Yuan Maoqiu, the troublesome guy, and couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. Yi Shi curled his index finger and tapped on the tea-colored glass, signaling Lin Heyu to look over there.
Lin Heyu turned back, stared at the glass wall, and was stunned. The seat across from them near the stairs was empty, while just a moment ago he had seen a couple sitting there. He turned to confirm, and the couple was still sitting there, chatting and laughing, but their reflections were not in the glass.
Additionally, the decor of the shop had undergone some subtle changes. The real staircase railing was wooden, but in the glass, the railing was covered with a layer of iron, and the handcrafted items and decorative dolls didn’t match in quantity or style.
Most notably, the waiter reflected in the glass was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, the same uniform as the one who had just brought Yi Shi his food.
“You should be able to guess what I’m confirming.”
Yi Shi used a declarative sentence, and Lin Heyu remained silent, unsurprised. After all, the changing sky outside had already served as a warning, and now any strange phenomenon would merely reinforce this impression.
The familiar evening glow filled the window, and the clock in the glass showed 7:30, which should be morning time. No wonder Yi Shi was wearing sportswear and had ordered soybean milk and porridge—he had just finished his morning run and come for breakfast.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Lin Heyu asked.
Yi Shi, with a cold expression, took a sip of lemon water. “You’re quite calm yourself.”
“It’s different.” Lin Heyu was calm because he had some vague memories from before, but Yi Shi was different. Without any related memories, he could still remain so calm, showcasing his psychological resilience.
“I don’t care about things that don’t affect me,” Yi Shi said flatly, as if it were none of his concern. “Being in different worlds might be a good thing; it won’t cause any conflict in solving cases.”
Indeed, he was a realist who approached everything practically.
At this point, Yi Shi finally believed that he might have been willing to share case details with him in the past. He must have had this thought even though he lost that part of his memory. From start to finish, he was still himself, and all his actions and thoughts were consistent.
Lin Heyu discreetly sighed. “So, what case is it exactly?”
“A bombing case. The suspect fled to Haijing and hasn’t been caught. Someone has come to deliver a message, asking us to rescue the hostage who’s about to be killed.”
A bombing case? Lin Heyu vaguely remembered something, feeling like he had heard these words before. He couldn’t determine if it was déjà vu or a real memory, as familiarity didn’t necessarily mean it was a true memory. He tapped his pen on the table repeatedly. “Generally, when someone seeks help, the directive to save people is straightforward. Why do you think this has such a complex code?”
“I speculate that it’s not possible to make an obvious cry for help,” Yi Shi said, pressing his forefinger against his pointed chin. “Perhaps there are constraints and limitations, such as being constantly monitored. An overly obvious call for help would be noticed and threaten her safety.”
Lin Heyu nodded, circling the symbol “※” with his pen. “This is not a mathematical symbol; it’s a pattern.”
“Mm.”
“It looks somewhat like an abstract depiction of a plant or flower.”
“It’s not the botanical garden.” Yi Shi interrupted. “Your colleagues have already made that assumption.”
“…It definitely isn’t the botanical garden. Such a place doesn’t have tall buildings and lacks concealment.”
Hearing this, a trace of satisfaction appeared in Yi Shi’s eyes. Their thoughts were in sync, and if their thinking patterns were similar, they could indeed become good friends. Why couldn’t Haijing Police Station have more sharp-minded individuals like Lin Heyu?
Lin Heyu scrutinized the pattern, finding it increasingly familiar. A promotional image flashed through his mind. He was stunned for a moment and took out his phone to search for information.
If he remembered correctly, there was a mall in the east of the city. The initial promotional model was inspired by floral designs. From an aerial view, the top of the building had a four-leaf clover pattern!
“165 Zhaoxun Road, Lucky Clover Mall, has been open for a few months.” Lin Heyu played a video, and Yi Shi saw the luxurious and exquisite mall. From an aerial view, the top of the building had four symmetrical oval petals, resembling a four-leaf clover.
The scene switched to nighttime, and the top of the building’s four-leaf clover was illuminated with ten intersecting light bands. Each petal had a large round light in the middle, symmetrically designed, exactly matching the “※” symbol.
“……Wait.” Yi Shi changed his tone, stood up, and looked at the scenery and buildings outside the window. There was the familiar Pingju Square and some unfamiliar shops. Lin Heyu asked curiously, “What are you looking for now?”
“Nothing, just confirming that there are differences between the places we are in.” Yi Shi glanced at the video on his phone. The four-leaf clover building he found in Lin Heyu’s world couldn’t be confirmed, could it?
What was even more puzzling was that the clue they got from their side matched a building in Lin Heyu’s world.
Putting aside the pattern for now, Yi Shi’s pen tapped on the second “∧” on the note: “This is the time, 4 o’clock—”
He stopped abruptly. No, what he saw was the right side being slightly shorter, the hour hand pointing at 4 o’clock, and after a mirror flip, Lin Heyu should see a little past 7 o’clock, just like the current time in their respective worlds.
Lin Heyu was studying the letter “Я”: “This is a Cyrillic letter, which means ‘I’ in Russian. Is it trying to tell you that ‘I will be at the four-leaf clover building between 7:25 and 7:30’?”
Such an explanation seemed to make sense, but it was still a bit far-fetched. Why waste a letter to emphasize this “I”? In the limited information they could convey, it was completely unnecessary. More importantly, they had the specific time and location but no date. Missing such a crucial piece of information would greatly reduce the success rate of the rescue.
There were many ways to express “I,” so why bother choosing Russian? Yi Shi pondered carefully; Russian must have a special meaning, and this special significance might not be found in their world but in Lin Heyu’s world.
“Russian, Russian theater, drama…”
Lin Heyu muttered to himself, and Yi Shi was suddenly enlightened. He said, “Check if any Russian bands or singers or actors have recently visited Haijing.”
Following this line of thought, they quickly found that on the opening day of the four-leaf clover building, a popular Russian singer was invited to perform. At that time, the media reported it extensively, and Lin Heyu, who never paid attention to such information, only knew it was a foreign singer and didn’t realize it was a Russian.
“Opening performance?” Yi Shi questioned the time. Lin Heyu said, “October 21st, it was last year.”
How could an event from the past be connected to a crime that hadn’t happened yet?
Last year? Yi Shi remembered that Lin Heyu had mentioned “a few months after the opening,” indicating that there was not only a difference in worlds but also a time gap between them. Even in his world, October 21st had long passed, and the explosion hadn’t occurred yet.
Could it be… Yi Shi thought of a possibility and pulled out a new sticky note, writing down the date “10/21.” Just as he was about to hand it to Lin Heyu, he crossed it out and rewrote it.
This time, he wrote the numbers in LCDD1A type of digital display font, commonly seen on digital clocks or calculators. font, matching the font found on the note from Zhao Chenghu. Lin Heyu took it, and the date automatically mirrored: “1501? No… December 1st?”
Indeed that was the case. That “15\10”2Was written on the note taken from Zhao Chenghu should correspond to January 21st. What would happen on this date? Or rather, what had happened on this date in Lin Heyu’s world?
“January 21st, did anything happen on this day?”
Upon hearing this, Lin Heyu’s expression darkened: “A high-profile kidnapping case that shocked the entire province. I’m currently investigating this case.”
Yi Shi’s mind raced, vaguely sensing a connection. He leaned slightly toward Lin Heyu and said, “Let’s exchange case details, like we used to.”
Lin Heyu was a bit surprised: “The case I’m handling could help you? And what about the time point you just mentioned, what did your research conclude?”
“It hasn’t passed,” Yi Shi said calmly, “In my world, none of this has happened yet.”
—
Wen Huabei and Yuan Maoqiu were downstairs, eating a slow meal. Their hearts were like cats scratching, their curiosity reaching the sky, wanting to rush upstairs to see what stage those two had reached.
Lao Lin had some skills; after a long silence, he shocked everyone. His first love didn’t follow the usual path; he was dating a man. Could he handle it? Would he even be able to? This was Yuan Maoqiu’s inner thoughts.
Meanwhile, Wen Huabei’s mind was replaying scenes from BL dramas he’d seen on video sites. So many things could happen over coffee; they had just touched faces, so a kiss behind a book would be no problem at all.
Both were absent-minded. After a while, Lin Heyu came downstairs alone. Wen Huabei shot over like a rocket: “Captain Lin! You’re done so soon? We don’t mind waiting another half hour!”
Lin Heyu patted the back of his head: “How long does it take to eat? Are you done? Hurry up and finish; we need to go to Nanyi City Bureau.”
“…Everyone else gets infatuated with their partners and ignores their friends. Even with a same-sex partner, you still ignore us,” Yuan Maoqiu looked behind him, “Hey? Where’s your little partner? Where did he go?”
Lin Heyu coughed lightly, his ears turning a rare shade of red: “He went back first.”
“Went back?” The two spoke in unison. They had been guarding downstairs the whole time and hadn’t seen him come down. With that face, he’d be recognized the moment he reached the stairs.
Lin Heyu told them not to ask too many questions, to finish eating quickly, and settle the bill as there were important matters to attend to.
Yuan Maoqiu quickly finished his omurice, and Wen Huabei packed three cups of freshly ground coffee. After paying, the three left the café. In the car, Wen Huabei distributed the coffee. He sat in the back, Lin Heyu in the front passenger seat, texting on his phone. From his angle, he could just see the contact name.
Yi Shi.
So that’s Captain Lin’s partner’s name.
[Thank you.]
This was the first message Yi Shi sent after adding him as a friend.
Lin Heyu’s lips curved slightly. He never would have guessed that Yi Shi’s first message would be a thank you.
Earlier, after combining the information they obtained, they confirmed that it was December 1st, between 7:25 and 7:30, at the Four-Leaf Clover Mall (pending confirmation). Yi Shi judged this to be the most likely hypothesis and couldn’t wait to return to Haijing. They had one day left, enough time to prepare for the operation.
He looked at the evening glow outside the window. Now, in Lin Heyu’s world, how should he leave?
Lin Heyu seemed to read his thoughts and said, “Last time, you answered a phone call and then disappeared.”
“Was it because we were far apart?” Yi Shi’s eyes showed a hint of confusion, revealing a somewhat dazed and harmless expression. Lin Heyu laughed, “Maybe.”
“…I’ll go wash my hands.” Yi Shi stood up, his movements not as decisive. He rarely hesitated. After this parting, when would he see Lin Heyu again?
His arm was grabbed, Lin Heyu’s large hand squeezing from his wrist to his forearm, much like the action Yi Shi had just confirmed. Yi Shi had always been resistant to others’ touches, but for some reason, his tolerance for Lin Heyu was so high that even he was surprised.
“Be careful with the case. See you when we have time.”
“…Mm, see you.”
Yi Shi walked step by step towards the staircase. As he moved, the evening glow outside the window gradually faded, giving way to a bright morning sun.
He looked back, and Lin Heyu was gone. The seat he had just occupied was now empty. He immediately took out his phone and searched for 165 Zhaoxun Road. The result was “Jiade Office Building.”
It seemed this was the correct location. Yi Shi went to the counter to pay the bill. The waiter esswho had served him earlier was surprised, “You’re still here, sir? I thought you had already left. I went up twice but didn’t see anyone.”
Yi Shi pointed to the restroom sign and left Time Flies after paying.
Lin Heyu watched Yi Shi disappear before his eyes, just like Xiao Shitou described, as if stepping into a mirror, his figure neatly vanishing. He felt a faint sense of melancholy until he received Yi Shi’s message, which gradually dispelled the feeling.
[You’re welcome.]
Yi Shi, upon reaching home, received Lin Heyu’s reply and smiled.
In an instant, his life gained an online friend who was not easy to meet.
