Ch 54: Text Messages Across Time

On the night of 2024, after tidying up and lying in bed, Lin Wu went over the three rules of the spacetime messages once more.

First, time flows synchronously on both sides. If today is December 9, then it is also December 9 in the other timeline. Anything that has already happened in 2004 cannot be changed.

Second, once a message is sent, it cannot be altered. For example, any message sent before December 9, 2024 cannot be modified. This ensures that events in 2004 remain stable and unchanged.

Third, he and Qin Weidong are the connection points between the two timelines. They met in high school, and over the twenty years in between, they continued to know each other and even shared experiences. But at the moment the message was sent on September 5, 2024, Qin Weidong became, in his perception, “a person of the past.” He lost access to all memories involving Qin Weidong from those twenty years. For instance, he remembered the funeral, but not that Qin Weidong had attended it.

He could only see what was happening in 2004 in real time, not the twenty years in between.

Time should be a straight line, impossible to reverse. If it flows backward, it must be bound by restrictions to keep both timelines functioning properly. These three rules build upon each other. Only through limitation can the ending be changed.

Now, however, the rules had shifted. The memories of those twenty years had returned.

It was now December 9, 2004. He hadn’t yet refreshed tonight’s memory, but he already knew what he would do that night.

After watching a movie, he and Qin Weidong would go home, then to the bathhouse together. In a stormy night filled with thunder and lightning, Qin Weidong would “play” a piano piece for him.

By normal rules, those memories should only appear tomorrow. But now, with the altered rules, he already knew everything that had happened between them across those twenty years.

Just like an ordinary person remembering their past.

And not just today.

He also knew that tomorrow would be sunny. They would ride bicycles to school together. Qin Weidong would sit behind him and say, “Our school’s pretty cold. Can I stay at your place for a while?”

And he would agree.

It was as if a shell around his heart had opened slightly. If someone wanted to come closer, he would cautiously test the distance and cooperate fully.

The memories of being seventeen rose gently, like a breeze buried deep inside.

During that time, they shared many happy moments.

Until December 17.

A violent storm came, and the shell that had opened suddenly slammed shut, then hardened again and again, reinforced like diamond until it became unbreakable.

He knew everything that would happen next in 2004.

On December 10, he and Qin Weidong would ride to school together.

From December 10 to 16, Qin Weidong would stay at his home every day. The two of them would be almost inseparable.

On December 17, Luo Xiaorong would be killed.

From December 17 to 25, he would move through life like a walking corpse, dealing with the aftermath.

On the night of December 25, he would push away all kindness and say, “Qin Weidong, you’re disgusting.”

That was their past.

That was their life in this ending.

If the spacetime messages had never existed, all of it would still unfold in 2004, just like memories in an ordinary person’s life.

…

December 10, 2004. The sky was clear. After the rain, the air felt fresh.

Lin Wu and Qin Weidong left together.

Qin Weidong got carsick, so they went to the bike shed instead. Lin Wu unlocked his bicycle while Qin Weidong scrolled through his phone, chatting casually.

“I tried sending a message to the unknown number yesterday. It didn’t go through.”

At 10:25 the previous night, after their bath, he had sent:
“It’s raining in 2004. How’s the weather in 2024?”

After Luo Xiaorong’s fate had been changed, both timelines had their own lives. At first, they messaged frequently, then gradually less.

During that time, Qin Weidong had secretly asked about Lin Wu’s future. Find the full version on HololoNovels dot com. About their relationship. The other side never gave details, only said that the two of them lived well, very happily.

The tone was precise, deliberate. “Very happy” meant it truly was.

Qin Weidong believed that happiness must involve Lin Wu. If they were “very happy,” then surely something wonderful would happen between them in the future.

He looked forward to it.

Their last exchange had been on December 2.

Then yesterday, he tried again, but the message failed to send.

“It didn’t go through?” Lin Wu asked, unlocking the bike.

“Take a look.” Qin Weidong handed over the phone. He had sent it at 10:25, while Lin Wu had been outside washing socks. He meant to mention it later, but then the time window closed, and he got distracted by a call.

“Maybe the channel closed,” Lin Wu said after checking, unconcerned.

If the message had gone through but received no reply, they might speculate. But a failed send was objective. It meant the channel itself had broken.

They had always known it might close at any time.

“It’s kind of amazing, though,” Qin Weidong said.

He climbed onto the back seat once Lin Wu was ready. They wore school uniforms, padded with down jackets against the cold. Lin Wu’s was black. Qin Weidong’s was blue.

The bicycle rolled out of the neighborhood. Though it had rained, the road wasn’t muddy. They rode at an easy pace.

Lin Wu pedaled steadily. Qin Weidong liked being carried like this. From the moment he got on, he held onto the hem of Lin Wu’s clothes.

After crossing the street outside the neighborhood, he asked, as if casually:

“Our school’s pretty cold. Can I stay at your place for a while?”

The bike kept moving.

Lin Wu didn’t answer immediately. After a while, he said, “Aren’t your things still in the dorm?”

“They are.” Qin Weidong replied quickly. The bedding Lin Wu had given him was already taken care of. What remained were just clothes and daily necessities.

“Our dorm heating isn’t great. Your place is warmer.”

That part was true. Lin Wu’s home had factory heating, much warmer than the school.

“Alright. After school, I’ll come to your school gate. Pack your things and wait there,” Lin Wu said.

He didn’t question why they, who weren’t particularly close, would suddenly live together.

“Okay.”

Qin Weidong felt his heart bloom.

Three minutes later, the two of them stopped at a red light in the bike lane. Qin Weidong sat on the back seat with nothing to do, idly scratching at Lin Wu’s down jacket with his fingers. Most down jackets had that slick, synthetic fabric. When he scratched it, it made a soft rustling sound, not harsh, kind of fun.

He kept running his fingers over it, entertained.

Up front, Lin Wu listened and asked with a faint smile, “Are you cold?”

“I’m wearing a down jacket. I’m fine,” Qin Weidong said.

“I’m not asking about the jacket. I mean your hands, they’re out in the cold. Aren’t they cold?” Lin Wu wore gloves while riding. Qin Weidong didn’t.

“They’re okay…” Qin Weidong glanced at his hands. He wasn’t cold at all. If anything, he felt a bit overheated.

“Alright. If you get cold, you can put them in my pockets.”

As Lin Wu finished speaking, the light turned green. He pushed off and started riding again.

Qin Weidong held onto Lin Wu’s jacket, and only half a second later did he process what Lin Wu had said.

Lin Wu was wearing a short down jacket, thick and well-padded, with two side pockets positioned at the front of his waist. The zipper was closed, so the pockets were right there in front.

“…I think they’re getting a bit cold,” Qin Weidong said, heart suddenly beating faster. He slipped his hands into Lin Wu’s pockets. They were large and warm, and he could feel the waist beneath.

“Better now,” he said.

He had already forgotten that he hadn’t been cold at all. He pushed his hands in deeper and, through the layers of fabric, lightly held Lin Wu’s waist.

Lin Wu nearly lost his grip on the handlebars.

“It was really cold just now. Much better now,” Qin Weidong said in a perfectly serious tone.

“…Good. As long as it’s warmer,” Lin Wu steadied the bike again.

Neither of them spoke after that. The bicycle kept moving forward. Qin Weidong held his waist the whole time. From the outside, it looked like nothing unusual, just someone warming their hands in pockets.

Ten minutes later, Lin Wu dropped Qin Weidong off at the gate of Lide High School. The schools were close. Visit HololoNovels .com to read more. Lin Wu always rode him to the gate in the morning, and in the evening, Qin Weidong would walk to wait for him at No. 1 High.

“See you tonight.” Qin Weidong got off but was reluctant to let go.

“See you tonight,” Lin Wu replied.

They had said these words countless times before, but now, somehow, they felt different.

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Zhajiang noodles.”

“Did you add an egg?”

“Yeah, one. What about you?”

“Green pepper rice. Still six hours until school’s out. So slow…”

…

They said they’d meet at night, but from noon onward, they kept texting nonstop, only stopping when afternoon classes began.

“Lin Wu, who are you texting?” Li Jing had been curious ever since he started messaging.

“A friend.” Lin Wu put away his phone and smiled.

“I see…” Li Jing felt that something about Lin Wu had changed lately. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After a moment, she turned back to studying. “Lin Wu, there are two math problems I don’t understand. Can you explain them?”

“Sure.” Lin Wu patiently walked her through them.

The day passed slowly.

That evening, Lin Wu arrived near Lide. Qin Weidong was already waiting by the roadside, holding a bag.

“When did you come out?” Lin Wu asked, stopping his bike.

“8:30. Not long ago.” Qin Weidong climbed onto the back seat, hugging the bag, then asked, “Are you still hungry?”

They had talked at 6:30. Lin Wu’s teacher had dragged class late, so he’d only eaten a small biscuit.

“A little. Want to grab something at the market?” Lin Wu asked as he started riding again. By “market,” he meant the steel factory market near his neighborhood, where they often ate snacks.

“Sure. I’ve been craving the fried skewers there.”

They chatted as they rode. Naturally, Qin Weidong slipped his hands into Lin Wu’s pockets again. This time it really was just for warmth, except when they passed a dim stretch of road, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Lin Wu’s waist through the thick fabric. He rested against the pocket, with Lin Wu’s back on the other side.

The road stretched for about seven hundred meters. By the time they passed it, he went back to simply keeping his hands in the pockets.

“Lin Wu…” Qin Weidong spoke.

“What is it?”

“It was really warm just now.”

In the darkness, something continued to grow.

After a moment, Lin Wu answered softly, “Mm.”

Over the next two days, they went to and from school together, suddenly inseparable.

…

“Ah-choo!”

In 2024, Lin Wu stepped out of a pharmacy, head heavy and foggy. It was December 12, five days before Luo Xiaorong’s death.

He had been studying the phone constantly these past few days, but its update speed didn’t change with his will. It was now at 47.9 percent. At this rate, it would take three more days.

The temperature in Xuhu had dropped sharply. Perhaps from the stress of sorting through all the timelines, he’d started feeling unwell since yesterday morning. Just now, when he touched his forehead, it felt slightly feverish, so he had no choice but to go downstairs and buy medicine.

He was dressed entirely in black. A long black down coat, a black hat, a black scarf wrapped around his neck. When he glanced at himself in the pharmacy mirror, he felt like a “person inside black.”

Lost in these scattered thoughts, he approached his hotel room.

And then he saw someone standing at the door.

Tall, long-legged. The man seemed to have just come out of a meeting, dressed in a black suit with a layered black vest, and a structured black overcoat on top.

He was looking down at his phone. Hearing movement, he looked up.

Their eyes met.

And in that instant, only one thought crossed Lin Wu’s mind:

There are two people dressed in black now.

✧˖°.──⋆⭒˚.⋆💌⋆⭒˚.⋆──✧˖°.

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