[02/25, 00:10, Nanyi, Pingju Square]
Yi Shi was still coughing, but he was much better than he had been three minutes ago. Lin Heyu gently patted his back, concerned, and asked, “Are you alright?”
Yi Shi nodded, his wet eyes observing the surroundings. He and Lin Heyu were sitting in the fountain. Above them was the large clock face, showing the time to be around 12:10. The location was still Pingju Square, seemingly unchanged from before he fell into the water.
The only things noticeably different were the drink he’d left by the fountain, which was now gone—not on the ground or in the shallow water—and the distant convenience store. The classic red and green striped sign had changed to blue and white.
“Is that a 7-Eleven?”
Lin Heyu turned around, following Yi Shi’s pointing finger. “No, Lawson.”
It seemed he was now in Lin Heyu’s world. Yi Shi once again reached into the shallow fountain water, but this time, after his hand submerged, all he touched was the hard, cold ceramic tiles at the bottom. He had no idea how he got here, and returning seemed impossible.
After just three seconds, Yi Shi calmed himself down. He figured he might as well use this opportunity to learn more about Lin Heyu and his world, making the difficult journey worthwhile.
That warm hand was still gently patting his back, and Lin Heyu’s concerned voice rang above his head, “How do you feel? Still uncomfortable?”
Yi Shi snapped back to reality, realizing the position he was in with Lin Heyu. A wave of embarrassment washed over his delicate features.
The two of them were sitting in the water, or rather, Lin Heyu was sitting with Yi Shi lying in his arms, one hand gripping Lin Heyu’s arm so tightly his knuckles were white, like he was clinging to a lifeline. The hand he’d used to test the fountain’s bottom was now resting naturally on Lin Heyu’s waist.
Meanwhile, Lin Heyu had one arm around Yi Shi’s shoulder and the other gently patting his back. Despite the incredibly intimate position, Lin Heyu’s expression remained calm, and Yi Shi had only just begun to feel embarrassed.
The deep night, the glimmering lights, and the gently rippling water surrounded them. They held each other openly, making it hard to believe it wasn’t a romantic encounter.
Yi Shi’s nose itched, and he sneezed, quickly letting go. Lin Heyu took the hint, stood up from the fountain, and helped him up as well.
They stepped out of the fountain pool, dripping wet from head to toe. The fabric, saturated with water, continued to drip. Yi Shi was wearing a medium-thickness jacket, which he promptly took off and wrung out by the edge of the pool. Beneath it, he only had a plain white shirt that, after getting wet, clung to his skin. His pale skin shone through, making the shirt seem almost superfluous.
“Wearing so little again?” Lin Heyu gently tugged at his sleeve.
Yi Shi glanced at him but said nothing. He had a lower body temperature, with cold hands and feet all year round. Even in the height of summer, he never complained about needing air conditioning, and in winter, he wasn’t cold enough to need a fur coat. He tolerated both heat and cold well. Looking at Lin Heyu, this person was also only wearing two layers—both of them were on par.
After wringing out his jacket, Yi Shi shook it out, ready to put it back on, but Lin Heyu stopped him. “It’s still wet.”
A person’s hand strength is limited; even though the jacket seemed dry, if it were put in a washing machine, it would still wring out quite a bit of water. From Lin Heyu’s perspective, Yi Shi’s frame was slender, and when he had his arm around his shoulder earlier, all he could feel was bone. This made him instinctively worry that in the chilly spring weather, Yi Shi might catch a cold.
“It’s fine, I’m healthy,” Yi Shi avoided his hand, took a step back, and within a blink, the half-dried jacket was back on him.
To be precise, his “I’m healthy” didn’t mean he was inherently robust; on the contrary, his constitution wasn’t great. Low blood pressure and low blood sugar were chronic issues, but he had a resilient personality and could endure. If he had a slight headache or cold, he wouldn’t seek out a doctor or even take medicine. He’d sleep it off under the covers, and by the next day, he’d be back to full strength.
Up to now, except for injuries that forced him to go to the hospital, any minor ailments Yi Shi had could be cured by sleep. If one night’s sleep wasn’t enough, then two would do the trick.
A night breeze swept by, but it wasn’t as cold as expected. Yi Shi suddenly remembered that in Lin Heyu’s world, it was already spring, so there was even less reason to worry about getting sick. As for Lin Heyu, he was even more nonchalant, given his physique. He took off his wet jacket, slung it over his arm, and couldn’t be bothered to put it back on.
The glow from the large clock face flickered, using a breathing light effect. Yi Shi glanced at the time—it was nearly half-past twelve—and asked Lin Heyu, “Shall we go?”
“Yeah, staying here isn’t an option,” Lin Heyu naturally took hold of Yi Shi’s wrist. The skin he touched was delicate and cold, even cooler than the water in the pool. His voice dropped, “Let’s go quickly. You need to change your clothes.”
“I’m really fine.”
“It’ll be too late if something happens.”
Lin Heyu led the way with his phone’s flashlight, while Yi Shi, held by the wrist, almost bumped into his shoulder. Lin Heyu was half a head taller and more muscular, his figure like a sturdy, reliable mountain, shielding Yi Shi securely behind him.
Lin Heyu glanced sideways at Yi Shi, who obediently followed his lead like a compliant, pretty doll. His heart couldn’t help but flutter: how could someone have such a stark contrast? Fierce and intimidating at times, yet so harmless and docile when calm, his bewildered expression was irresistibly endearing.
In fact, Yi Shi didn’t notice anything amiss with their contact. His attention was elsewhere. Due to their height difference, his line of sight fell directly on Lin Heyu’s earlobe. He was staring at that spot, lost in thought.
Fragments of memories flashed through his mind—of being carried on Lin Heyu’s back, his arms wrapped around Lin Heyu’s shoulders, chin resting in the crook of his neck. The closest thing to his eyes had been this patch of ear and neck.
“Wait a moment.” Yi Shi suddenly stopped walking.
Lin Heyu turned to look at him. Yi Shi didn’t explain but took the phone from his hand and shone the flashlight at his neck. The light revealed three small brown moles, forming an obtuse triangle. The moles were so faint that you wouldn’t notice them unless you were specifically looking.
In such dim lighting, you’d struggle to see a mole, let alone a birthmark, yet he remembered these three moles—their color and the shape they formed were exactly as he recalled.
Lin Heyu saw him staring intently at his neck and reached up to feel it. “Is there something there?”
Yi Shi shook his head, took the lead, and moved forward, now holding the phone to light the way. Lin Heyu took longer strides to catch up and walk beside him, asking, “What were you trying to confirm just now?”
Yi Shi pointed to his ear. “There are three moles on your neck.”
Lin Heyu was slightly surprised. “…You’re the first to notice.”
“It’s not that I noticed,” Yi Shi replied softly. “It’s that I remembered.”
He recalled lying on Lin Heyu’s shoulder, his eyes wandering until they were drawn to those three small moles. He had even traced their shape with his fingers.
It was real; these weren’t just imagined memories—they had really happened. Yi Shi’s eyes again showed a trace of confusion as he began to suspect that Yu Xue’s theory might be correct: his relationship with Lin Heyu could indeed be much closer than that of ordinary friends.
Seeing that rabbit-like expression on Yi Shi’s face again, Lin Heyu finally couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch his cheek. Despite Yi Shi’s slender frame, his cheeks were surprisingly soft, smooth, and tender like freshly baked milk pudding.
This time, Yi Shi’s reflexes finally kicked in. He quickly swatted Lin Heyu’s hand away, but instead of glaring as he did at the cemetery, he tilted his head to avoid Lin Heyu’s gaze. “I’m not used to too much physical contact.”
His voice was soft and weak, the words mumbled, with no real conviction. Lin Heyu saw his flushed, burning ears and the faint pink tint on his profile. He decided to stop teasing and pulled Yi Shi close to continue walking forward.
As they left the pitch-black Pingju Plaza, they finally came upon a sidewalk lit by streetlights. After being accustomed to the darkness, the dim light from the streetlights felt particularly harsh. Yi Shi observed the buildings on either side of the street, finding them vastly different from those in his world. The only familiar sight was the coffee shop across the street, which had a “CLOSE” sign on its door.
Yi Shi stood across the street, gazing up at the weathered wooden sign that read “Time Flies.” The red-brown wood was so chipped and faded that it gave off a strong sense of age. In his world, it was a newly opened shop, but here it had become a timeworn establishment that had clearly been around for a long time—ten, maybe twenty years.
But this was unusual. If it were a newly opened shop or didn’t exist at all, it would make sense; however, not only did it exist, but it was also an old shop, which was certainly intriguing.
“How could this be?” Yi Shi murmured.
“?” Lin Heyu looked at Yi Shi. “What are you thinking about now?”
Yi Shi pointed at the “Time Flies” sign. “Do you know how long this café has been open?”
“I haven’t inquired, but from the store’s décor, it must have been quite a while.”
“That’s really odd.” Yi Shi pondered quietly, as if speaking to himself. “How could it have been open for so many years? Or is it possible that it was just renovated recently…?”
Lin Heyu overheard Yi Shi’s murmuring and quickly understood what he was contemplating. He also looked at the “Time Flies” sign, and the image of Yu Xue’s youthful face repeatedly appeared in his mind, leading him to similar thoughts as Yi Shi.
Something was off; it didn’t add up.
Yi Shi gathered his thoughts and asked three questions in quick succession: “Did you see young Yu Xue today? When? What did he say?”
“You know?” Lin Heyu answered honestly, “Yeah, he came to deliver food to his aunt during his night shift and did his homework while he was at it.”
Yi Shi calculated the time, nodding. “That makes sense.” He then looked up at the storefront across the street. “But this is really strange.”
“Yeah, I don’t understand why it’s like this either.”
They both had the same doubts about the timeline. Which world developed first, and which followed? Which was the “cause” of the events, and which was the “effect”?
Previously, the presence of the young Yu Xue had been a clear time marker, allowing them to assume that Lin Heyu’s world represented the past—roughly twenty years before Yi Shi’s world. However, the appearance of this café disrupted that theory because it also served as a time marker and completely overturned their previous conclusion.
The café had just opened in Yi Shi’s world, while it had weathered many years in Lin Heyu’s world. By the store’s age, Yi Shi’s world should also be twenty years before Lin Heyu’s.
This was perplexing. Yi Shi rubbed his chin and suddenly had an idea.
“Where are you taking me to change clothes?” Yi Shi asked urgently, eager to find a quiet place with paper, a pen, and a roof to sit down with Lin Heyu and thoroughly discuss the mysteries of parallel worlds.
Lin Heyu immediately mentioned the hotel where he was staying and then awkwardly added, “It’s not what you think.” It was too obvious that bringing wet clothes to a hotel might be interpreted in a certain way, and even his colleagues would find it hard to believe.
However, Yi Shi didn’t mind at all. He nodded quickly and took Lin Heyu’s arm, heading toward the city bureau. He was familiar with that hotel; it was where many colleagues stayed when attending meetings or handling cases at the Nanyi City Bureau, almost like the city bureau’s guesthouse.
“Do you live alone?”
“No, I share a room with a colleague.”
Yi Shi nodded. “Have your colleague move to another room for a while.”
Lin Heyu had already planned this; he was concerned that directly suggesting it might make Yi Shi suspicious of ulterior motives. Since Yi Shi proposed it himself, it worked out perfectly for him.
At the hotel, Yuan Maoqiu was woken from his slumber by a phone call.
“Lao Lin, when are you coming back? Are you coming back at all?” Yuan Maoqiu asked weakly.
“Yeah, coming back. Bringing a friend with me.”
“Oh, you’re bringing someone back. Got it…” Yuan Maoqiu yawned, his mouth open halfway, shocked to the point where his jaw nearly dislocated. “What?! You’re bringing someone to sleep?!”
Lin Heyu felt embarrassed. Yuan Maoqiu’s loud voice was so startling that Yi Shi, standing beside him, must have heard it clearly.
Although the “sleep” in question was different, it was still related. Lin Heyu didn’t want to explain further. Yuan Maoqiu, on the other end, chuckled like a sneaky fox: “Lao Lin, didn’t expect you to have these tricks up your sleeve! You really can’t judge a book by its cover! So, you’re bringing back that handsome guy—are you going to need another room?”
“Yeah, please go to the front desk and bring your police ID,” Lin Heyu glanced at Yi Shi beside him. “My friend… isn’t comfortable showing up.”
Yuan Maoqiu responded, “Got it, got it. I’m familiar with this kind of task.” He quickly hung up, retrieved his police ID, and went downstairs in his slippers with loud footsteps.
“…” Lin Heyu glanced at his phone, feeling that Yuan Maoqiu had said a lot even though he hadn’t really said much.
