"Mu Xinrong," he said, his voice coming from the depths of the distant universe, "You have betrayed the 'rules'."
Mu Xinrong wanted to retreat, but found that his feet were bound by chains.
"I didn't..." he said with difficulty.
He raised his hand towards Youye, and a dazzling white light condensed from his fingertips.
"Your existence itself is a mistake."
--This is Chao Youye from another world line.
A cold, cruel, and superior god.
Mu Xinrong's body kept shaking.
————————————
Jiang Feng lifted the convenience store plastic bag, and Ye Qingliu chased the rolling beer can into the shallows. The moonlight made his soaked white shirt translucent, and the outline of his spine looked like an awakening blue dragon.
When he turned around and waved the can he had picked up, the thin figure of the seventeen-year-old boy suddenly overlapped with that of the twenty-five-year-old Ye Qingliu - the man was standing on the deck of the burning oil tanker, throwing the last lifebuoy into the raging waves.
"Here!" the boy tossed the can over, the aluminum leaving a silver trail in the moonlight. "Your epitaph is engraved on it."
The moment Mu Xinrong caught it, his hand trembled. He found that the can was covered with scratches from his nails—the very distress signal he had left behind when he was struggling in the previous worldline.
The river suddenly surged, and the reflection of the seventeen-year-old's clear night stream vanished in the ripples. But the phantom of the twenty-five-year-old remained, saying with a voice burned by smoke: "This time I will live until the cherry blossoms bloom."
——"If one day, you suddenly remember other world lines..."
——“I don’t know, but now…”
——"In this world line, I choose to believe you."
———I choose to believe you
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