2333 was fuming with rage. It didn’t even want to confirm the world line with her anymore and roared, “Wen! Qian! Shu!”
Wen Qianshu opened her eyes to find herself in complete darkness, almost thinking she had dreamed her way back to the apocalypse. She pushed herself up, the surface beneath her fingers cold to the touch, likely some kind of metal. “Speak.”
Just as 2333 was about to speak, Wen Qianshu cut it off. “Oh, right, help me open this thing while you’re at it. It looks like some kind of device.”
Great, she was ordering it around again.
2333 was practically fuming at Wen Qianshu, its words tumbling out incoherently. “Do you even know what kind of world this is? Do you?! And you just barge right in!”
But even as it complained, it opened the device for Wen Qianshu. With a hum, the lid opened.
The light wasn’t bright, but dim and hazy, and there seemed to be the sound of rain.
Wen Qianshu narrowed her eyes. “This thing should be connected to some main control device. Remember to hack it so no one finds out I’m out.”
2333 retorted indignantly, “Do I need you to remind me—”
Wen Qianshu asked, “Then have you hacked it?”
2333: “…”
It really hadn’t.
2333 said, “I’m hacking it right now, aren’t I?”
Wen Qianshu smiled but didn’t call its bluff.
She sat up, feeling a wave of dizziness from moving too abruptly.
Wen Qianshu surveyed her surroundings and found herself in a bedroom. Beside the metal pod she had been lying in was a bed, made with a dark green sheet, a matching pillow, and a neatly folded quilt.
Opposite the bed was a desk with scattered books, and a few haphazardly colored paintings hung sparsely on the wall.
Wen Qianshu placed her hands on the edge of the metal pod to stand up, but a sharp pain shot through her scalp. “Hiss—”
She raised a hand to her temples and pulled off several strange wires.
After hacking the main control device, 2333 resumed its mockery of Wen Qianshu. “This is what you get for rushing in. Now you’re completely in the dark. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“How bad can it be?” Wen Qianshu retorted. “Could it be worse than the first world?”
2333: “?”
Seriously, what exactly was so bad about the first world?
All that happened was getting called on to answer a question. How long are you going to hold a grudge over that?
After removing the wires from her body, Wen Qianshu tried to climb out of the metal pod, but her legs gave way, and she stumbled toward the floor. Fortunately, she caught the edge of the pod with both hands, saving herself from a nasty fall.
Wen Qianshu looked down at herself. She was wearing a silk, knee-length nightgown that revealed her slender calves.
2333 said, “I’ve sent you the data. You should look at it as soon as possible.”
Wen Qianshu grunted in acknowledgment. She stood up and discovered this body was very weak, leaving her breathless after just a few steps.
Wen Qianshu pondered for a moment, then began to search the room.
Thinking she had noticed something amiss, 2333 grew tense. “What is it?”
Wen Qianshu replied, “Looking for something.”
2333 watched as she rummaged through a cabinet, then pulled open a drawer, finally taking out a small mirror to examine her face.
2333: “…”
Wen Qianshu commented, “Not bad.”
Surprisingly, the person in the mirror bore some resemblance to Wen Qianshu—the same inky pupils, pale face, and slightly upturned almond eyes that hinted at a smile never quite formed. Fused with Wen Qianshu’s own expression, the look became even more nonchalant.
Beautiful, yet tinged with a hint of frailty.
Having been with Wen Qianshu for so long, 2333 hadn’t picked up any good habits, but it had certainly mastered sarcasm. “What, are you finally giving up on your past loves to spend the rest of your life with yourself?”
“How could I do that?” Wen Qianshu tidied her long hair and smoothed her dress. “I’m not as beautiful as her. Wouldn’t I be getting the short end of the stick if I spent my life with myself?”
2333: “…”
Have you really reached this point?
In the last world, Lou Jiu at least had her eyes visible, so your forced compliments were somewhat excusable.
In this world, you don’t even know her name or what she looks like!
Wen Qianshu ignored 2333’s comments and brought up the system interface to read the data. “Sentinels and Guides?”
2333 replied, “That’s right.”
In this world, there are two types of special humans: Sentinels and Guides.
Sentinels possess superhuman senses and physical abilities, but this causes them to passively absorb all surrounding information, making them prone to losing emotional control. Guides are physically weaker but possess powerful mental abilities, allowing them to help sort through a Sentinel’s emotions and soothe them.
And every Sentinel and Guide has their own “mental body”—an animal formed from condensed mental energy that exists in a higher dimension. Ordinary people cannot see or perceive them, but Sentinels and Guides can sense each other’s【1】.
After getting a general overview, Wen Qianshu began searching for this world’s version of Mingyue—the eldest daughter of the Mu family, Mu Lian. The male protagonist of this world, Mu Danqing, was her younger brother.
The female protagonist of this world was the fourth daughter of the Wen family, named Wen Qianhua. Wen Qianhua?
Wen Qianshu glanced at her identity in this world—the third daughter of the Wen family, Wen Qianshu.
Wen Qianshu: “…”
2333 said sarcastically, “Congratulations, you’ve finally noticed. This person has the same name as you.”
Wen Qianshu asked, “Then why was she in—”
She glanced at the metal pod. “—waking up in a place like this?”
2333 retrieved the data for her. “She had an accident, her mental body was destroyed, and she fell into a vegetative state. The Wen family sought treatment for two or three years before giving up hope. They placed her in a nutrition pod in her room.”
The technology in this world was more advanced than in Wen Qianshu’s original world. The nutrition pod not only sustained life but also regularly massaged the patient’s muscles to prevent atrophy from prolonged inactivity.
But having just woken up, Wen Qianshu still felt weak.
Leaning on the wall for support, Wen Qianshu walked slowly, acclimating to her new body. She bent over slightly and touched the bedsheet. “What kind of accident?”
2333 replied, “I don’t know. It’s not in the files.”
Wen Qianshu said, “Your world lines are as ‘thorough’ as ever.”
“There’s no dust on the bedsheet,” Wen Qianshu noted. “Someone has been cleaning this room.”
She walked to the window, where the curtains were drawn tightly. Wen Qianshu lifted a corner to peek outside. “I should probably get back in and see who comes—”
She suddenly fell silent, standing perfectly still.
2333 was baffled. “Go on. See who comes?”
2333 said, “Huh? Wait, weren’t you going to get back in—”
Wen Qianshu turned, yanked open the wardrobe, grabbed a pair of shoes, and quickly put them on. Her movements were swift, almost frantic, as she opened the door and ran out.
The room’s window faced the garden. Through the crack in the curtains, she saw the dim sky and a drizzling rain. In the mist, a person stood holding an umbrella. As if sensing her gaze, they looked in her direction.
The familiar posture, the straight spine, the light-colored eyes—she couldn’t be mistaken. It was her Moonlight.
The hallway was quiet, and she didn’t meet anyone on her way.
This body still lacked strength, and she was panting heavily after just a few steps. Yet, Wen Qianshu pushed herself, running down the corridor, down the stairs, and out into the garden.
It was raining outside. The pitter-patter of the rain was incessant, and a chill crept up her bare skin, spreading until her whole body trembled.
Wen Qianshu licked her lips and looked around in a daze.
She knew something was wrong with her. She knew the situation was still unclear and that she should have stayed in that room to figure out her next steps.
But she couldn’t control it—she couldn’t control herself.
In that instant, her mind went blank, filled only with the image of Mingyue’s gaze.
She wanted to find her.
She wanted to see her, to talk to her.
2333 had no idea that Wen Qianshu was afraid. Who wouldn’t be, faced with such a bleak and hopeless future?
The person she loved would forget her time and time again, looking at her with the eyes of a stranger.
Intimate one moment, strangers in the blink of an eye.
Two worlds had been painful enough, let alone an endless succession of them?
In the previous world, she could still deceive herself, still believe there was hope, still tell herself she could make Mingyue fall in love with her over and over. But when the naked truth was laid bare before her, she was finally afraid.
That was why Wen Qianshu had refused to listen to 2333 and had jumped directly into the new world. She was afraid she would hesitate, overthink, or back down. So she forced her own hand, pushing herself into the next world.
But Mingyue was no longer in the garden.
She had gone to find her, but she was gone.
The rain suddenly intensified, whipped by the wind under the eaves.
Wen Qianshu stared blankly for a moment, then let out a hollow laugh and sat down on the steps, steadying herself with the railing. Rain soaked her cheeks and calves, and her hair clung to her ears. The cold was bone-chilling, but she seemed oblivious to it, merely propping her elbows on her knees and covering her eyes with her hands.
No, I shouldn’t be like this.
She trembled, using the cold to force herself to calm down. Mingyue was in the garden, she thought. It’s likely she didn’t leave, but went inside the Wen house.
I have to get up. I have to go inside and find her, room by room.
I have to get up. I have to—
Suddenly, a weight settled on her shoulders as a jacket was draped over her. Warmth instantly spread through her, warding off the cold. She caught the familiar scent of sweet orange.
Wen Qianshu froze, her hand still half-raised, unable to move.
She saw the curtain of rain parted by an umbrella. Its owner crouched down, placed the handle in her palm, and guided her hand to close around it. Their fingers were fair and slender, with neatly trimmed nails. On their ring finger was a small birthmark—a crescent moon.
“Sis, I already told you, I didn’t do it on purpose—”
A young man’s voice drifted over. “Why do you have to insist—huh? Who’s this?”
A loud eagle’s cry rang out.
The woman stood up. “Let’s go.”
She didn’t open another umbrella, instead walking directly into the rain. The young man followed, casting a surprised glance at Wen Qianshu before chasing after her.
The surroundings suddenly grew noisy. Wen Qianshu heard a door open and a female voice shout indignantly, “Who needs that Sentinel’s apology? I was the one pinning him down!”
A gentle but exasperated male voice drew closer. “Do you even remember you’re a Guide? His sister came all the way here and made him apologize. Just go see them off—”
The conversation stopped abruptly, followed by sharp gasps—
The sound of a cup hitting the floor—
“Qianshu?”
“Third Sister?”
“You’re awake? What are you doing out here? Quick, help her up! You, go get a towel, don’t let her catch a cold—”
2333 hesitated, not daring to speak.
It saw Wen Qianshu staring downward, clutching the umbrella. But then, with a flutter of her long lashes, a single tear fell.
It mingled with the rain.
The strong and aloof Wen Qianshu, the carefree and unfeeling Wen Qianshu, the Wen Qianshu who never cried no matter the pain, who seemed impossible to warm up.
She was crying.
Author’s Notes:
【1】Cited from Baidu Baike, with some modifications.
