Chapter 32
As the wind chimes fell silent, an eerie stillness enveloped the bookstore.
Wen Heng's gaze lingered on Jiang Ci for two seconds, a clear look of surprise flashing in his eyes behind his glasses. He adjusted his glasses, his tone carrying the familiarity of old classmates: "Jiang Ci? What are you doing here? Didn't your dad forbid you from going out?" He paused, lowering his voice slightly, but enough for Xie Qingyan, who was not far away, to hear clearly, "You snuck out again? Aren't you afraid of being caught and sent back?"
These words were like a fine needle, gently piercing the tranquility and tacit understanding that had just filled the bookstore.
Xie Qingyan paused slightly as he wiped the counter. He was now completely certain—this Wen Heng not only knew Jiang Ci, but also seemed quite familiar with Jiang Ci's situation. The fact that he mentioned running away meant their relationship was far more than just that of ordinary classmates.
Jiang Ci sat on the sofa, not even lifting his eyelids, still engrossed in his book, as if Wen Heng's appearance and questions were merely insignificant background noise. He only subtly tightened his grip on the book, his knuckles turning slightly white. He didn't answer, building a cold wall of silence around himself.
The atmosphere was subtly tense.
Xie Qingyan keenly sensed the undercurrent flowing between the two, an atmosphere that wasn't hostile, but rather complex. He put down the rag, walked over, and broke the silence with a gentle voice, carrying just the right amount of curiosity: "You two know each other?"
Jiang Ci remained silent, as if he hadn't heard.
Wen Heng glanced at Jiang Ci, seemingly used to his reaction, and only gave a vague "hmm" in response to Xie Qingyan, clearly not wanting to talk more. His attention quickly returned to the purpose of his trip, and he looked at Xie Qingyan: "Boss Shen said a new batch of books arrived, so I came to take a look. There are some clues about the book 'Shouzhuozhai Xingkong Suilu' from last time, and I want to see if there are any similar ones."
Mentioning books, Xie Qingyan immediately remembered something, her eyes brightening slightly: "By the way, when I was organizing things just now, I came across a book called 'Dream Pool Essays,' attributed to an unknown hermit from the Ming Dynasty. It seems to mention 'strange stars' and 'guest stars appearing suddenly' in a few places. I wonder if it would be of any use to you?"
"The Dream Pool Essays?" Wen Heng's attention was immediately drawn, his eyes behind his glasses lighting up. "Where is it? Let me see it!"
Xie Qingyan led Wen Heng to the long table in the inner room where new books were piled up. The two quickly found the thin, yellowed booklet among the books, and they almost put their heads together, discussing it in hushed tones by the light of the desk lamp.
Jiang Ci remained seated, his book untouched for a long time. His gaze involuntarily followed the backs of the two figures standing side-by-side, engrossed in their discussion. He watched Wen Heng point to a certain passage in the book, turning to explain something to Xie Qingyan, watching Xie Qingyan listen attentively, nodding occasionally, then pointing to another line…
A familiar, bittersweet, suffocating feeling surged uncontrollably into Jiang Ci's heart once again. It was clearer and sharper than when he saw the text message last night.
He pursed his lips, but finally couldn't hold back any longer. He put down his book, walked over, and silently stood on the other side of Xie Qingyan, also looking at the ancient book. He couldn't understand the obscure words, but his very presence was like a silent barrier, quietly intervening between the two of them.
Wen Heng pointed to a passage and asked Xie Qingyan, "...The description here of 'a large, reddish star that encroached on the North Star'—the time and location—somewhat matches the record in the 'Treatise on Astronomy' of the Song Dynasty regarding the eruption of the Tianguan Guest Star (the precursor to the Crab Nebula) in the first year of the Zhihe era (1054), but the details don't match. Do you think this is an observational error, or another eruption not recorded in official history?"
Xie Qingyan stared intently, pondering, "The handwriting and paper are from the Ming Dynasty, but the content may be a copy of an earlier observation. If the observer wasn't a professional official from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, it's possible that the record is rough and the orientation is off. However, the description of 'reddish color' differs from the common records of guest stars as 'white vapor' or 'like Venus,' which might be worth noting..."
After listening, Wen Heng nodded thoughtfully, then looked up at Xie Qingyan, his gaze even more probing: "Student Xie, your understanding of ancient astronomical records doesn't seem like just 'somewhat knowledgeable.' Even with a wide range of interests, it's difficult for most high school students to access such specific details on these obscure topics. Do you have any special research in this area? Or do you have a mentor?"
This question is direct and hits the nail on the head.
Xie Qingyan remained silent for a moment. The morning light from the window fell on his serene profile, and a distant melancholy seemed to flicker in his clear eyes. He spoke slowly, his voice very soft:
"I wouldn't call it research. It's just that I have an old friend who was obsessed with observing celestial phenomena and deducing calendars all his life. Having known him for a long time, I've learned a little bit about it through what I've seen and heard."
He was referring to his close friend from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau of the Great Jing Dynasty, who always carried an armillary sphere, stayed up all night observing the stars, and would occasionally come to discuss the connection between star charts and the fate of the nation. He wondered if the friend was still there, steadfastly guarding his observatory under that starry sky.
This brief moment of distraction and the profound nostalgia in his words, which seemed out of place for his age, did not escape the notice of the two people beside him.
A look of understanding flashed in Wen Heng's eyes. He stopped asking questions and simply nodded: "I see. A good teacher and helpful friend can indeed benefit one for a lifetime."
Jiang Ci's heart, however, was gently tugged by the sound of "old friend" and the fleeting, distant look in Xie Qingyan's eyes. He felt an unprecedented, intense, almost burning curiosity about Xie Qingyan's past—the real past that belonged to the ancient Xie Qingyan. He wanted to know what kind of person, what kind of experiences, shaped the soul before him. He wanted...to understand him completely.
——
At noon, the two went to "Old Chen's Stir-fry" for lunch as usual.
During the meal, Jiang Ci casually scooped up a spoonful of soup, then suddenly spoke, his voice calm: "In ancient times, besides given names, people also had courtesy names. Xie Qingyan, do you have a courtesy name?"
Xie Qingyan paused in her act of picking up food, looking up at him, somewhat surprised that he would ask this. In ancient times, courtesy names were used by peers or elders, and were only asked about when the relationship was close. He nodded: "Yes."
"What is it?" Jiang Ci pressed, his gaze fixed on him.
Xie Qingyan put down his chopsticks and said seriously, "Do it. It was given to me by my master, and it means 'to act virtuously and achieve great things'."
"Xingzhi, Xie Xingzhi." Jiang Ci silently repeated these two words between his lips. It was as if through this name, he could touch another side of that distant time and space, a young man in fine clothes, riding a spirited horse, and possessing literary talent. He nodded, said nothing more, but firmly engraved this name in his heart.
After the meal, we returned to Moyunzhai.
Xie Qingyan continued her afternoon's tidying work. Jiang Ci sat in the corner and took out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, then opened his browser and solemnly typed "Xie Xingzhi" into the search box.
My heart started racing for no reason.
He held his breath, waiting for the result.
However, after the page redirected, the search results were scarce, mostly consisting of unrelated online novel characters or modern people with the same name. He added keywords such as "top scholar," "ancient," and "Da Jing Dynasty," and even tried different ancient book databases, but the result remained the same—no such person found.
There are no biographical records, no surviving writings, and no reliable historical records about "Xie Xingzhi" or "Xie Qingyan".
It's as if this person never existed in the long river of history.
Jiang Ci stared at the irrelevant information and the "no relevant results found" message on his phone screen, his brows furrowing deeply. For the first time, he was acutely aware of the astonishing truth behind what he had already guessed—Xie Qingyan not only came from ancient times, but the timeline he inhabited might also have a gap with the history recorded in this timeline, or perhaps… he came from another parallel universe.
He comes from a "past" that cannot be verified.
He is a true time-traveler.
This realization stirred a complex mix of emotions within Jiang Ci. There was shock, there was sudden realization, but above all, there was a heavy feeling, a mixture of tenderness and determination.
He turned off his phone and looked up at Xie Qingyan, who was standing on tiptoe and carefully putting the books back in their places not far away.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft silhouette on him.
Jiang Ci watched silently, a corner of his heart softening yet becoming unwavering.
So what if we can't find it?
So what if history doesn't record it?
The Xie Qingyan standing before him at this moment was so real. His talent, his gentleness, his resilience, and all the emotions and warmth he brought were undeniably real.
What he wanted to understand was never the cold, hard records in history books.
Instead, it was the living, breathing Xie Xingzhi in front of him who smiled at him, brought him breakfast, and made him feel a pang of sadness because of his conversation with Wen Heng…
Just then, Mr. Shen arrived at the bookstore and seemed not at all surprised to see Jiang Ci there.
After learning that Wen Heng had come and found the book he wanted before leaving, Boss Shen nodded to indicate that he understood.
There weren't many customers in the bookstore at the moment, so Boss Shen told Xie Qingyan to go about her own business.
Xie Qingyan took out the Oxford dictionary and continued memorizing words.
"Ring ring—!"
The old-fashioned orange telephone behind the counter suddenly burst into a sharp, piercing ring, tearing apart the silence of the room without warning.
Boss Shen looked up from behind the ledger, muttered "Who still calls landlines these days?" and answered, "Hello? Moyunzhai... Oh, is this Xiao Yan's mother?" He paused, listened for a few moments, his expression changed slightly, and he immediately covered the receiver, calling out into the room, "Xiao Yan! Come quick! Your mother's on the phone, it's urgent!"
Xie Qingyan nearly dropped the copy of "Dream Pool Essays." His mother rarely contacted the bookstore directly while he was at work. A sense of foreboding gripped him instantly. He put the book down and practically ran to the counter.
Jiang Ci stood up, his gaze fixed on Xie Qingyan.
"Mom, it's me. Don't rush, speak slowly..." Xie Qingyan took the microphone, trying his best to keep his voice steady, but his back was obviously tense. As he listened, his face gradually turned pale, his brows furrowed into deep lines, and the knuckles of his fingers gripping the microphone turned white from the force.
"...Dad fell? Where? Is it serious?...Community hospital? Okay, okay, I understand, I'll be right back! Don't panic, take good care of Dad, I'll be there soon!"
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