Mu Xinrong curled up on the cold floor of the observation room, his back against the equally cold wall, his eyes fixed on the silent figure on the hospital bed.
Chao Youye's face took on an ominous blue-gray hue under the dim light. The mask of the ventilator was regularly covered with white mist and then dissipated. The faded gray mark on his wrist was like a cold declaration of death.
Icy fear, like a tangible vine, coiled around his heart, tightening ever tighter. The core of the rules was collapsing! He could clearly sense it.
Ordinary doctors and medicine are powerless in the face of this collapse that stems from the very essence of existence. What he needs is someone who understands the "world line" and can reach the level of rules!
————Ye Qingliu.
The name, carrying the weight of a desperate gamble, pounded into his chaotic mind. The young master of the Ye family, always meticulous and like a precision instrument.
The one who always stood in the shadows in countless world lines, his gray-blue eyes were like a cold lens, calmly recording his death, recording the annihilation of Chao Youye, and recording all destruction and rebirth... the observer.
But this world line is different!
Mu Xinrong's chaotic thoughts clung to this thought, like a single rope at the edge of an abyss. On that rainy night, the silent black umbrella moved towards him, shielding him from the icy rain and the overwhelming despair he felt at the time.
No comfort, no inquiry, just a clean handkerchief and a reminder about the math test.
It was this insignificant action of "Ye Qingliu", a senior high school student, that made him still stubbornly believe after recovering countless cold memories: Ye Qingliu in this world line is different!
He has the warmth of a "human", even if it's just a trace! He is not that pure, cold recorder!
And... Mu Xinrong's fingers tightened convulsively in his pocket, almost crushing the cold phone case.
He remembered it! Not long after that torrent of memories hit him by the river, when he was tortured by those bloody reincarnations and couldn't sleep at night, in a trance.
He once said some... vague mumblings to Ye Qingliu who was packing his schoolbag in an empty classroom after evening self-study.
"Qingliu..." He remembered that he was leaning tiredly against the cold window frame, looking at the elongated shadows under the dim street lights downstairs, and his voice was hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against him.
"Believe it or not... it's possible for a person to live multiple lives? Like... like reloading a game... but every time, the ending seems to be the same... betrayal, death... like an inescapable curse..."
He didn't have the courage to mention Chao Youye's name again, nor did he have the courage to describe the specific scenes of killing. He just vaguely poured out the heavy feeling of exhaustion that was crushed by reincarnation.
At that time, Ye Qingliu pushed the silver-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and a very faint light, like the fluctuation of data flow, flashed in his gray-blue eyes behind the lenses.
His voice was calm, with a unique, almost cold rationality. "Probabilistically, there are infinite parallel universes. As for the curse... it's more like a self-fulfilling prophecy caused by cognitive bias. You've been under too much pressure lately."
He didn't even ask for details, but just took out a brand new copy of "A Brief History of Time" from his always spotless schoolbag and handed it to me.
"Distract yourself. Or, do you need me to make an appointment with the school counseling office?"
His reaction perfectly matched that of a highly intelligent, logical, and honorable high school student. But Mu Xinrong caught it! He caught the extremely subtle, almost imperceptible pause between Ye Qingliu's fingertips as he handed over the book!
I caught a glimpse of the light that flashed in the depths of his gray-blue eyes. It was not a look of complete disbelief, but more like... a look of inquiry that had triggered some deep mechanism!
What’s more important is - Mu Xinrong’s heart suddenly sank - he remembered that just after that vague confession, Ye Qingliu took out the black hardcover notebook that he never left behind, with no logo on the cover!
It wasn't a notebook for taking class notes! The notebook looked extremely ordinary, but in Mu Xinrong's chaotic thoughts at the time, he inexplicably felt that it looked strangely familiar, as if he had seen it in countless broken dreams!
Ye Qingliu opened his notebook and took out a fountain pen that looked ordinary but had an unusually smooth tip. He lowered his head and wrote something very quickly and attentively!
Mu Xinrong was in a trance at the time and did not see the content clearly, but the posture of concentrating on recording, the rustling sound of the pen scratching across the paper... instantly overlapped with the figure of the observer who was recording everything indifferently in countless world lines!
Ye Qingliu was recording! He was recording his own vague mumblings about "reincarnation"!
The observer instinct in his subconscious was already awakening. Or rather, it had never been dormant! He was just using the identity of a "high school senior" as a perfect disguise.
This realization was like a shot in the arm, instantly piercing Mu Xinrong's despair! Ye Qingliu knew! He at least knew something beyond common sense!
He possesses the "tools" and "instincts" of an observer! He is the only one who can possibly understand the collapse of the rules before him, the only one who can possibly provide help!
---bet!
———Must take a gamble!
Bet on this world line, the occasional faint warmth revealed by Ye Qingliu, holding an umbrella and handing a handkerchief!
I bet on his curiosity as an observer sparked by "Mu Xinrong's unusual confession"! I bet he wouldn't stand idly by and watch the destruction unfold before his eyes like in other world lines!
A huge determination overwhelmed his fear. Mu Xinrong suddenly jumped up from the ground, but his movement was so fast that his vision went black. He staggered and held on to the wall to avoid falling.
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