The next day, night, 10:30 p.m.
The lights in the student activity building gradually went out.
Most clubs had already wrapped up their activities—packing up, shutting off electrical equipnt and lights, locking the doors, and leaving.
Inside the Film Cara Club room, however, the lights were still bright, with no intention of dispersing.
They were waiting for midnight.
According to Ti-Traveling Text ssage User Manual (Version 4.0), the farther into the past a ssage was sent, the greater the power required.
So, to be safe, the chosen ti was the dead of night—midnight—when no one was using electricity.
Jiang Ran stood in front of the small blackboard, looking at the mysterious string of digits written on it:
289269426494642.
And the five characters decoded from that string:
Don’t believe fate.
…
No one knew what this sentence actually ant.
They had also been hoping to receive a second mysterious text ssage to complete the missing latter half of the sentence.
But things did not go as hoped.
That abruptly appearing mysterious ssage never had any follow-up.
This sense of the unknown made Jiang Ran deeply uneasy.
He always felt that…
Sowhere, sohow, sothing had been overlooked—so detail neglected.
[…But what exactly had been overlooked?]
He couldn’t figure it out. He couldn’t find the entry point.
Right now, he was like a headless fly with nowhere to break through. The more his thoughts circled, the more dizzy and muddled they beca.
Sigh.
How should he put it?
Anything related to ti-traveling text ssages always filled him with anxiety.
The past two days had been relatively peaceful.
He had even had a long-overdue al and drinks with Wang Hao, and his mood had been quite good.
But today, with another ti-traveling text about to be sent, that sense of dread surged back, making him pace back and forth in the cramped activity room, unable to calm down.
Looking up.
What filled the entire room was the Cat Bacteria army—each pair of eyes reflecting the white fluorescent light, glittering with life.
Looking down.
On the experintal bench sat the Positron Cannon, poised and ready.
Qin Feng maintained it ticulously every day, polishing the casing until it glead—presenting an absurd mix of old and new, as if ti itself had never passed over it.
It was hard to imagine.
The Positron Cannon’s predecessor had been nothing more than a bulky CRT monitor manufactured over twenty years ago.
No one knew what kind of genius inspiration the Film Cara Club seniors back then had possessed—through so bizarre coincidence, they had pieced it together and modified it into a “ti machine,” and even managed to pair it with a transforr distribution box… sending phone text ssages into the past.
Everything felt coincidental.
And everything felt scientific.
So then—
The endpoint of science plus coincidence…
What exactly was it?
“It’s about ti.”
Qin Feng glanced at his watch.
“Midnight has passed. Get ready to start.”
Qin Feng’s words pulled Jiang Ran back to reality.
He stood up, shook his head hard to fling away the chaotic thoughts, and began making arrangents.
Though there wasn’t really much to arrange.
After so many experints, everyone was already well-practiced. And this ti, the sending ti had been decided during the day—
Qin Feng had gone browsing the used appliance market 7 days ago;
The circuit control board had been bought 9 days ago;
To be absolutely safe, it was best to add one more day;
So this ti, they were going to send the ti-traveling text ssage…
To 10 days in the past.
This was the farthest ti they had ever sent a ti-traveling text—a historic breakthrough of sorts.
The configuration was the sa as always, just with their positions switched around.
Cheng ngxue operated the Positron Cannon, Jiang Ran stood by the window counting down, and Qin Feng stood next to the transforr distribution box, ready to send the text.
Operating the Positron Cannon had originally been a technical task.
Thanks to the improvents made so ti ago, it could now be operated in foolproof fashion using the knob control board, with no difficulty at all.
“The text ssage is edited!” Qin Feng called from outside the window.
Jiang Ran turned back and looked at Cheng ngxue.
Cheng ngxue turned the knobs, setting the year, month, and hour scales all to 0, then turned the “day” scale to 10.
This ant that shortly, the ti-traveling text would be sent precisely to 10 days in the past.
“The Positron Cannon is set too!”
Jiang Ran raised his hand.
“Then I’ll start the countdown! When it hits 0, Xiaoxue, you start the Positron Cannon first, then Qin Feng sends the text. Everyone ready—”
“5!”
Moonlight was swallowed by dark clouds, and the entire world dimd.
Co to think of it, he didn’t know how many tis it had been now. Every ti the countdown began, Jiang Ran always felt as if ti slowed down.
Not only did his senses sharpen, his mind also beca more agile—like a vulture hunting in the night, able to discard all noise and distractions and focus intently on its prey.
“4!”
To this day, that mysterious string of digits continued to make Jiang Ran uneasy.
Don’t believe fate…
Exactly what were they not supposed to believe?
Jiang Ran didn’t know, and couldn’t guess.
But—
If he thought about his very first instinct upon seeing those five words, it was Qin Feng.
Don’t believe… Qin Feng.
“3!”
Shouting out the countdown, Jiang Ran looked toward his close friend standing by the distribution box.
This was a boy who had lost his father at a young age, whose childhood had been miserable.
Yet for friendship and trust, he had given up his obsession with reviving his father.
Truly admirable.
Compared to that…
He himself seed utterly despicable.
Even with Qin Feng cooperating to this extent, he still harbored suspicion toward this close friend. As Cheng ngxue’s countdown numbers kept decreasing, that unease turned into a beast pounding inside his chest.
“2!”
His increasingly rapid heartbeat made Jiang Ran feel slightly oxygen-starved.
Seeing Qin Feng about to press the send key outside the window, Jiang Ran felt dizzy, as if the ground were trembling and the world shaking—countless terrifying and abstract images rushing toward him.
Fish leaping from the water’s surface,
A black sun reflected in dead pupils,
Black light turning into viscous asphalt—boiling mud of the earth, black and red intertwined, an apocalypse between heaven and earth.
Blink.
The Earth fell silent and stopped spinning.
Eyes.
A gigantic eye—an eye with the Earth as its pupil.
That magnificent gaze looked toward so unknown direction.
“1!”
Blink again.
The enormous eye appeared in the universe, incomparably vast. Its pitch-black pupil was like a greedy black hole, madly devouring everything around it.
Pulled by gravity, the perspective tore away at light speed.
At last… the full form of the eye was revealed—horrifying and unexpected—and beside it, there was another eye!
A double blink.
They were… Qin Feng’s eyes, reflecting moonlight—
“Wait!!!”
Jiang Ran shouted.
“Eh? Eh—eh—eh—eh?!”
Cheng ngxue had already gathered strength to activate the Positron Cannon. Jiang Ran’s sudden shout broke her stance, throwing her off balance. She flailed and hurriedly braced herself on the table to steady her body.
“Jiang Ran! What are you doing?!”
She complained loudly.
“You scared to death! Why aren’t you following the plan?”
However—
Jiang Ran did not respond.
His eyes were fixed straight on Qin Feng by the distribution box, on the phone at the other’s fingertips.
He braced himself on the window fra and jumped down.
Moonlight cast a dividing line between the two. Jiang Ran stepped forward into its glow.
Step by step.
He walked with quiet, sticky footsteps, stopping in front of Qin Feng and slowly raising his right hand.
“What’s wrong?” Qin Feng asked.
“Qin Feng, can you give your phone?”
Jiang Ran looked into his eyes.
“I want to confirm sothing… the content of the text ssage.”
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