Chapter 25: Information Exchange
He Wei sat near the armrest of the sofa, supporting his forehead with his hand, busy with work. It was rare for him to have an evening to relax and read a book. His legs were crossed, and a book titled “Forensic Toxicology” was placed before him. This book had been borrowed from Du Ruanlan after a poisoning case last month. He had been too busy to flip through it and had only read less than a third of it so far.
A series of wet footprints gradually approached the sofa. He Wei glanced and decided to set a rule: after taking a shower, slippers must be dried in the bathroom, and no water was allowed to be brought into the living room.
Also, his shower gel had been missing for days. It was probably taken by Cheng Zesheng without permission. Although He Wei didn’t like the scent—too strong and sweet—it was a gift from his mother, so he had to keep it there.
Cheng Zesheng wore a racerback and had a towel around his neck. He knew He Wei was in the room but couldn’t pinpoint his exact location just yet.
It was getting late, and they were here for business. He Wei closed the book he was reading and placed a bookmark on the page. “Cheng Zesheng, can you hear me?”
At the same time, Cheng Zesheng also spoke, “Thank you for the dinner. Did you contact me to discuss your case?”
Neither side received a response.
He Wei’s hand rested on the back of his neck, speculating about the conditions required to trigger the conversation. It was like a horror game he had played before, guiding the protagonist to solve puzzles in a maze-like house. To progress the plot, one needed to find hint items and solve the triggering conditions. He was now with the “hint item,” yet he hadn’t unlocked the puzzle of how to initiate the conversation.
Cheng Zesheng stroked his chin, looking up at the quartz clock. The chimes rang at midnight. They suddenly heard each other’s voices. Was it necessary to be at that specific time or triggered by a certain piano melody?
Baffled, Cheng Zesheng walked over and touched the back of the quartz clock, adjusting the time to one minute before midnight. His eyes were fixed on the hesitating second hand. The three hands overlapped, and the distinctive piano melody for that moment played.
He Wei abruptly looked up, even stood up. The music lasted only a few seconds before ending. He tentatively inquired, “Cheng Zesheng? Can you hear me?”
“He Wei?”
Still, there was no response from either side.
It seemed the timing was crucial. They would have to try again at midnight to see if their speculated triggering conditions were accurate.
He Wei had the same idea, speculating that at a fixed time, there would be special anomalies in this parallel world’s nodes, allowing people living in both worlds to briefly intersect.
Cheng Zesheng adjusted the time on his watch, then went upstairs to fetch some paper and a pen. He sat on the sofa, communicating with He Wei through written notes as their current means of interaction.
He was in the midst of explaining a series of misunderstandings, from the memorial ceremony to accidentally eating the pan-fried dumplings. Before he could finish, He Wei’s note appeared, with more content than usual, highlighting three main points.
[1. I am not a ghost.]
[2. Both you and I exist in reality, in parallel worlds.]
[3. You also died, shot to death.]
Cheng Zesheng held the densely filled notepaper, focusing on the terms “parallel worlds” and “shot to death.” He had heard of the parallel world before and seen science fiction movies related to it, but he never thought he would have the opportunity to experience it firsthand. Although he remained somewhat skeptical of He Wei’s words, he couldn’t come up with a more reasonable explanation for now, so he decided to temporarily treat it as such.
As for him also “dying” there, by gunshot no less, Cheng Zesheng was intrigued. He circled “shot to death” and asked about the time of death, the location of the incident, and the autopsy results.
He placed the note back on the table, but He Wei didn’t pick it up. Another note appeared out of thin air on the table:
[You saw the note; do you have any thoughts?]
Cheng Zesheng frowned, observing the note left by He Wei and then glancing at the notebook in his hand. An idea formed in his mind. He tore off the previously written note, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the wastebasket.
He Wei twirled the pen in his hand, noticing Cheng Zesheng’s lack of movement. What was he thinking? Shocked into speechlessness?
Finally, a differently colored sheet of paper appeared on the table, bearing Cheng Zesheng’s handwriting.
[I replied to your note on your paper, but you can’t receive it. Wait a moment; I’ll step out for a bit and be back soon.]
Before He Wei could finish reading, the front door opened and closed again. Cheng Zesheng had already left.
He held the information Cheng Zesheng conveyed and rapidly pondered the reason. Cheng Zesheng took away his note, and he couldn’t receive it on the same sheet but could on a different one. It was as if this medium had a uniqueness to it—once Cheng Zesheng touched it, it would vanish from He Wei’s sight, rendering it invisible to him.
He Wei wandered around the apartment, observing the 404 unit where they both lived. The furniture and appliances were all set up before they moved in. Cheng Zesheng touched these things every day, yet they remained intact in the apartment. Cheng Zesheng lived here, but his personal belongings were not visible in the upstairs room. Still, the groceries he bought could fill the refrigerator, including the yellow paper talisman that appeared in the living room today…
Click, the crisp sound of unlocking echoed as Cheng Zesheng returned. He carried a bag containing two markers and went straight to the kitchen. Glancing at the spotless refrigerator door, he took out one of the markers, tried writing a few words on it, then wiped it clean with a cloth, leaving it as pristine as new.
Perfect, he could use it as a whiteboard.
Knock, knock, came the delicate sound from the kitchen’s glass door.
Just in time, saving him the trouble of figuring out how to call the other person over. Cheng Zesheng used a marker to write on the refrigerator: [Is there a pen on the countertop? Can you see it?]
He Wei picked up the other marker, standing in front of the refrigerator, and replied under the black letters: [Yes, I can.]
Cheng Zesheng: [According to my theory, the furniture and appliances were there before I moved in. We can both touch them, but personal belongings disappear when the other person takes them.]
He Wei: [Instant noodles and fried dumplings vanish when you touch them. The yellow paper talismans I touched were placed on the table; can you still see them?]
Cheng Zesheng wrote a series of ellipses, awkwardly explaining to He Wei that he didn’t put that talisman there; his mother had come over in the afternoon.
With his arms crossed, He Wei realized that Cheng Zesheng could still see the yellow paper talisman even after it passed through his hands. This indicated that objects from a third party weren’t subject to the resistance rule of object exchange. This was truly remarkable. Could this magical exchange rule have been designed specifically for the two of them?
The refrigerator door was already half-filled with writing, and Cheng Zesheng picked up the cloth to clean it. Finally, they found a method of continuous communication. It was much more convenient than using notes. Not only could they see previous records, but they also didn’t waste paper—intuitive and environmentally friendly.
The subsequent communication became much smoother. He Wei briefly summarized their current situation, outlining the knowledge acquired from Lian Jingyuan. He made Cheng Zesheng understand that they existed in two parallel universes, intersecting only here. Once they left, they would continue living in their own unaffected worlds.
Cheng Zesheng couldn’t help but sigh. He didn’t believe in ghosts in this world, yet he was taken aback by unknown science. The idea of conversing with someone from another world left him with mixed feelings, as if he were talking to an extraterrestrial being.
Through their discussion, they came to realize that they both lived in the city of Shengzhou. The general structure of the city’s buildings was similar, but there were differences in the details. For example, next to the police university where He Wei graduated, there was a well-established noodle shop that had been operating for twenty years. However, in Cheng Zesheng’s world, that location was occupied by a bookstore.
Interestingly, the abandoned mansion on Fulong Mountain existed in both worlds, with only slight differences in furnishings and details. This place seemed to be the most similar location they both knew of.
[Are you really a police officer?] He Wei raised a question.
Cheng Zesheng counter-questioned: (Are you really in the Criminal Investigation Division?]
[Same modes of identification?]
[Two kinds: Two types, the same identification as a whole, and the same identification as a part.]
After Cheng Zesheng answered, he took over the questioning: [The shape and characteristics of blood splatter?]
[Long strip shape; one end is enlarged and the other end is thin and long, often with a trailing tail, and the tip indicates the direction of blood spraying. Most of them are arranged radially. If the blood volume is large or the direction is vertical, blood stains can usually be seen below. To give you a complete analysis, this side of the refrigerator door won’t be enough.]
“…” Cheng Zesheng didn’t need to know more. Such a solid knowledge base, even fellow professionals might not have it.
After exchanging information, the two learned that they both worked at the city’s Criminal Investigation Division. One was the Captain of a division, while the other was the Vice-Captain. However, their respective colleagues and even the chief of the city’s police department were different. Could they still expect the leadership to be similar?
In their detailed conversation, numerous differences of this sort emerged. In the two parallel worlds, the passage of time was the same, and there were certain differences in locations and characters, yet they existed within a certain framework. If you were to draw a comparison, these two parallel universes were like two paintings being created simultaneously. They shared the same canvas and theme, but different artists used different styles. The characters and details presented also had variations.
Especially the identities they held in each other’s parallel worlds. When Cheng Zesheng heard that he was a famous celebrity with countless fans due to his appearance, he couldn’t believe it. What was this? He hated it when people approached him just because of his looks. How come on that side, he was actually making a living from it? Truly lacking ambition.
He Wei didn’t think much about his parallel self being an ordinary company employee. He casually commented, “That’s really wasting talent,” leaving Cheng Zesheng speechless.
The cleaning cloth that had served as their makeshift blackboard in the kitchen had turned black from absorbing too much ink. Cheng Zesheng grabbed another cloth, and suddenly, a piano melody echoed in the living room. He was surprised—was it already midnight?
They had been exchanging messages, completely unaware that several hours had passed by so quickly. As the piano notes ended, Cheng Zesheng instinctively sensed a presence in the kitchen, very close. The soft, rhythmic sound of breathing reached his ears.
“I’ve written more tonight than my entire case report.”
He Wei’s low and somewhat cold voice reverberated in the kitchen. Cheng Zesheng leaned against the cabinet, shaking his hand, “Who hasn’t? I’m almost catching up to the time when I was punished to copy books as a kid.”
After the extended period of communication earlier, despite not being able to see each other, hearing the other’s voice at that moment brought about an inexplicable sense of reassurance. It was a peculiar feeling, as if having taken a heart-calming pill. All previous deductions and conclusions had been accurate. Once the midnight chime rang, that person would appear on the other side.
“Enough chit-chat. Tell me about the case details,” He Wei glanced at the time, realizing the true urgency. “Get to the important parts. I’ll analyze how I died.”
