The white light engulfed Gardenia’s small figure, and the heatwave rushed in. Lin Heyu forgot to dodge, his mind going blank as his vision was gradually consumed by the blinding light.
Yi Shi stared blankly at the mushroom cloud rising in the distance, feeling a sudden, sharp pain in his heart, and a single tear fell.
This was Zhizhi’s choice.
“Brother, you two… must be happy.”
No, Lin Heyu and I would rather struggle in the mud than lose you completely.
In Yi Shi’s arms, Lin Zhizhi’s body radiated a soft, transparent light. Yi Shi tightened his arms, wanting to hold her close, but his embrace became more and more empty. The white light grew brighter and hotter, gradually wrapping around him as well.
His sight was taken away by the light, and his hearing abruptly vanished. All was silent, nothing remained. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, even his breathing and heartbeat slowed down, gradually fading into the all-encompassing whiteness.
Drip.
The white light suddenly receded, and the surroundings were filled with endless darkness. In front of Yi Shi appeared a giant clock face, with the hour, minute, and second hands all overlapping. Inside and around the clock face, tiny points of light flickered.
The clock face looked familiar. Yi Shi rubbed his eyes to confirm, and there was no mistake—this was the clock from Pingju Square!
It was just like the moment when the power went out at midnight and the big diamond lights went dark. But this wasn’t Pingju Square—there were no fountains, no shops, only the clock and the vast, intangible darkness. The only light came from those glowing points floating in the air.
“This should be the dividing line.”
Lin Heyu’s voice suddenly sounded. Yi Shi turned in surprise, only now realizing that Lin Heyu was beside him. A warm feeling spread through Yi Shi as their hands clasped. “What dividing line?”
“Between two worlds. Look, the time is exactly at the midnight mark.”
Midnight, when one world completely falls and another begins its opening act.
But what were these glowing points? Lin Heyu moved closer, his nose almost touching the light. He finally noticed its internal structure, which resembled text.
He casually grabbed one. The light transformed into a transparent rectangular puzzle piece—[Yuan Maoqiu].
A name?
Yi Shi also carefully picked up a light. In his palm, it turned into Shao Shiqing’s name.
A thought occurred to him, and he walked to the right. The glowing points floating outside the clock face were fewer in number, and none could be taken down. As his fingers touched them, more puzzle pieces appeared—Yi Shi, Lin Heyu, Pang Nengshui, Zhao Chenghu, Chen Shuwu…
Lin Heyu was on the left side and saw Lin Zhizhi’s name, alongside the names of Sun Gui, Lin Erde, and the other kidnappers.
The two interrelated cases had been split apart.
Previously, they had formed a timeline that spanned the mirrored worlds, creating corresponding reflection points in both. Lin Zhizhi had been the key element causing coherence between the two. Her final choice had decoupled the parallel universes, causing the cases to split entirely, each existing in a separate world, never intersecting again.
Yi Shi and Lin Heyu carefully examined the names and found no duplicates, proving that the worlds had completely separated with no more inversion, reflection, or temporal connections. They were now entirely two parallel universes.
Lian Jingyuan’s theory had been correct: Lin Zhizhi hadn’t completely disappeared. She had died in their world but still existed in another, living her life as normal. However, they would never meet again, and those joyful moments would remain unspoken memories.
Yi Shi walked over to Lin Heyu and gently touched Lin Zhizhi’s name, softly saying, “She’ll be able to live her ordinary dreams there, right?”
Lin Heyu nodded. “Yes. Zhizhi is so thoughtful. She’ll have a completely different life and live well without us worrying about her.”
The chance to correct everything was right before them. All they had to do was place these puzzle pieces into their respective worlds, and they would be free from the cycle of struggle, welcoming a brighter future.
“Let’s begin.”
The two of them worked busily, one on the left and the other on the right, occasionally discussing which characters should live in which world. Some choices were beyond their control, as certain characters had clear causal relationships, such as the hostages and kidnappers from the case. They could only exist in Lin Zhizhi’s world and couldn’t be placed in Yi Shi and Lin Heyu’s world.
As for characters with less defined connections, they were sorted based on their relationships with other fixed characters. For instance, Lin Zhizhi’s close friends and classmates naturally belonged in her world.
Soon, the clock faces on both sides were gradually filled with the transparent puzzle pieces. The floating points of light were nearly gone, and only one remained, hovering in the air.
Yi Shi picked up the light. A transparent puzzle appeared in his hand: [Sheng Guoning]. Above it, another name faintly appeared—[Sheng Yu’an].
Lin Heyu came over, and the two of them studied it carefully. They looked at both sides—Lin Zhizhi’s world was already filled and had formed a complete square, while the other side had just one empty spot left, perfectly fitting this puzzle piece.
“Do you think it should go here?” Yi Shi asked, holding Sheng Guoning’s puzzle piece. “Everything he did was driven by his deep love for Zhizhi. He’s the one most suited to be her other half.”
“I tried putting this piece in before, but it didn’t work,” Lin Heyu sighed softly. Perhaps it was a punishment for his attempt to change the beginning, but Sheng Guoning’s name couldn’t be placed alongside Lin Zhizhi’s. It was unbearably cruel for lovers to be separated between two worlds.
Yi Shi placed the puzzle into the only remaining slot, and Sheng Yu’an’s name disappeared. When he took it out, the name reappeared faintly. He fell into deep thought. This reminded him of Lian Jingyuan’s theory—when the cat is in the box, it exists in two states at once. But once the box is opened, the quantum state collapses into one fixed reality, and the fate of the cat is decided by the one who opens the box.
“What if… we just leave it here?” Yi Shi murmured to himself.
“Is that okay?”
“Look, Sheng Yu’an’s name flickers on and off. Maybe there’s still a chance for him to be born,” Yi Shi said as he placed the puzzle piece back on the clock face. The moment he let go, it turned into a ball of light, floating in the air again. “Let his name drift here. If we make the decision for him, we might truly cut off their chance to reunite.”
In this state of superposition, everything should be left to fate. Perhaps one day, a miracle will really happen.
White light appeared below, expanding rapidly. Yi Shi and Lin Heyu simultaneously felt weightless, and with a “splash!” they both fell into the water.
“Splish, splash,” the sound of the rolling river waves was endless. Lin Heyu frowned. The water was deep and cold. He had sunk too quickly just now and had swallowed a large mouthful of river water, causing a sharp pain from his windpipe to his lungs.
Soon, a hand touched his arm. Lin Heyu turned around to see Yi Shi behind him, signaling—someone’s ahead!
Sure enough, there was a dark shadow sinking in front of them. Judging by its size, it seemed to be a child. Lin Heyu swam forward, and through the floating black hair in the water, he saw a delicate, pale little face.
It was Xiao Shitou.
Two heads—one large and one small—emerged from the water. Lin Heyu held Xiao Shitou, letting him lean on his shoulder. Yi Shi also surfaced, looking around. It was pitch black, with no sign of light anywhere. Where were they?
Lin Heyu said, “Su Bojiang. We’re near Linjia Village.”
—
On a winter night, Su Bojiang felt like a lurking beast. The river waves were surging, and the water was freezing cold, as if it wanted to pull anyone who fell in into the abyss. Yi Shi held Xiao Shitou tightly, while Lin Heyu held onto his shoulder, guiding them toward the shore.
This was the stretch of river near Linjia Village. Lin Heyu had lived here for several years and was familiar with every mountain and river, easily finding the direction. Soon, his feet touched the sandy bottom—he had reached the riverbank. Once on land, he turned to pull Yi Shi ashore. The two of them, plus the child, were drenched, water dripping from their hair and clothes like soaked chickens.
Yi Shi placed Xiao Shitou on his lap, laying him face down. After checking his breathing and pulse, he started patting his back to expel the water. Lin Heyu took off his coat, wrung it out as best he could, and draped it over Yi Shi’s shoulders. After a while, Xiao Shitou coughed up a large mouthful of water and, although he coughed a few more times, showed no signs of waking up.
Yi Shi breathed a sigh of relief and picked Xiao Shitou up. It was still pitch black, with no streetlights, but judging by the faint outline of the mountains, he could tell this was the same place where he had previously brought Gardenia ashore.
A beam of light from a flashlight suddenly swept across them. Lin Heyu raised his hand to block it, and Yi Shi squinted as he heard a surprised exclamation, “It’s really you guys!”
Chen Heyu had arrived as promised, and when he saw that they were all soaked and holding a child, the child’s skin pale and features delicate, he asked, “What happened to you? What about the kid?”
“He passed out, but he’s not in any danger.”
“Oh, I see.” Chen Heyu, seeing how drenched they were, felt cold just looking at them and said, “Come to my house to change your clothes. It’s just up ahead.”
The riverbank was just above the fields. The three of them, with the child, walked slowly. Soon, a streetlight appeared, though it was dimly lit to conserve electricity. The north wind howled as snowflakes began to fall. Chen Heyu furrowed his brows and said, “It’s snowing. Let’s hurry.”
These conversations felt familiar. Yi Shi smiled and asked, “Have you decided to change your surname yet? Chen Heyu doesn’t have the same meaning as Lin Heyu.”
Chen Heyu was startled. “You know my name?”
“Yes, we met before, in Huangma Town.”
Chen Heyu paused, carefully studying the two of them. No wonder they felt oddly familiar—they had met before.
Under the streetlight, Yi Shi reached out and ruffled Chen Heyu’s black hair. “Can you do us a favor?”
“What is it?”
Lin Heyu handed Xiao Shitou over, and Chen Heyu took him in his arms, hearing him say, “We can’t take him with us, so we’ll have to ask you to look after him.”
Chen Heyu looked down at the pale-faced child in his arms, a snowflake landing gently on the child’s brow, which he thoughtfully wiped away.
“When will you come to pick him up?”
This time, Yi Shi didn’t answer. Instead, he bent down and tapped the tip of Chen Heyu’s nose. “He will live with you from now on. You will be like family.”
Family? He had just lost his most important family member, and now, was this child a gift from the heavens?
“Does he have a name?”
“Yi Shi. ‘Yi’ as in ‘easy,’ and ‘Shi’ as in ‘time.'”
Chen Heyu pondered for a few seconds, then nodded solemnly. “Alright, I’ll take good care of him.”
The snow was falling harder, and under the streetlight, the flakes were tinted gold, like confetti. Yi Shi reached out to catch a few. Lin Heyu put an arm around his shoulder, and their eyes met, everything understood without words.
Sensing they were about to leave, Chen Heyu quickly asked, “What are your names? Will we meet again?”
Yi Shi softly replied, “Yes, one day you will understand the meaning of meeting on this day.”
This day would be a major turning point in his life. They had finally broken free from the cycle and were now truly on the path to their future.
A sharp gust of wind, mixed with snowflakes, blew past. Chen Heyu blinked against it, and when he opened his eyes again, the two of them were gone, leaving him standing on the field path, holding Xiao Shitou.
Gone.
“Heyu! Heyu! It’s snowing—come home!”
A voice called from the quiet country road. Chen Heyu, holding Xiao Shitou protectively in his arms, jogged toward it. “Mom! I found a treasure!”
Mother Lin was waiting at the door for her son to return. Chen Heyu pushed open the door, brushing the snow off his shoulders, and placed the sleeping child on the bed. “His name is Yi Shi. From now on, we are family.”
