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Rainwater slid down his temples, spreading dark stains at his feet. The words on his phone screen, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirred up a storm in the still waters of his heart.
"Have we met somewhere before?"
He had seen these words before in previous reincarnations. Sometimes it was after a chance encounter in the library, sometimes in the discussion room of the competition class, but never like this, happening at this moment when he deliberately kept his distance and had almost no interaction with anyone.
Could it be that... no matter how he tries to avoid it, some "marks" will still penetrate the barrier of reincarnation and leave traces in her subconscious? Or is it that because he forcibly retraced back to before their "first encounter" last time, it caused some kind of disturbance that he couldn't understand, making her... perceive something as well?
Countless speculations and fears gripped him instantly. His fingers were icy cold, and he could barely hold the phone.
Reason screamed at him, warning him not to respond, for any interaction could lead to unpredictable disaster. Emotion, however, burned within him—the only glimmer of light he had seen after fifty-three lifetimes of wandering in endless darkness—she might "remember" him.
The rain intensified, blurring the street scene before him. He took a deep breath of the cold air, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn't panic. This time, he couldn't afford to make any more mistakes.
He deleted the "Yes" and "Do you remember?" that he had repeatedly typed and deleted in the dialog box, and finally replied with the safest and most error-free answer—an answer befitting someone who was "receiving a text message from a stranger for the first time."
"We probably bumped into each other in the hallway. I'm Shi Xu from room 302."
He tried to define the conversation as a casual neighborly greeting, downplaying the thrilling sense of familiarity as a chance encounter.
After the message was sent, time seemed to stretch on. Every second of waiting was agonizing. He stared intently at the screen, both anticipating and dreading her reply.
A few minutes later, the phone vibrated again.
"Maybe. I feel like I've seen you somewhere before, there's something... weird about you."
Time seemed to catch its breath. "A very strange feeling"—this vague description sent a chill down his spine more than any direct confirmation. It was like a thin mist, shrouding some truth that was about to be revealed.
He needed to know more. He had to determine whether this was a universal aftereffect of reincarnation, or... a special case that only occurred at this moment, in this "Fifty-Second Round" that he had forcibly altered.
He carefully chose his words, cautiously probing, steer the conversation in a safer direction that would reveal more information:
"Really? Maybe I have a rather average appearance. Are you settling in alright? Feel free to let me know if you need any help."
He played the role of a friendly but distant neighbor, suppressing his surging emotions beneath calm words. He needed to know, in her current understanding, what kind of "distance" should exist between them.
This time, Yunxi's reply came a while later.
"It's fine, thank you. It's just that sometimes I feel like I've known this neighborhood, and...you, for a long time. Maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping enough lately, and I'm overthinking things."
It was followed by a slightly embarrassed rabbit emoji.
Shixu leaned against the damp, cold wall and slowly closed her eyes.
My heart pounded heavily in my chest, with a dull ache that was a mixture of immense hope and a deeper fear.
She sensed it.
It's not just that they look familiar, but that I've "known them for a long time."
Although she attributed it to lack of sleep, the “feeling” itself was the biggest abnormality!
This wasn't just ordinary déjà vu. It was a mark that reincarnation had etched into her soul, a mark she herself couldn't comprehend.
His previous strategy, the so-called "silent protection," now seemed utterly ridiculous. The threads of fate were far more resilient and unpredictable than he had imagined. He thought keeping his distance would ensure his safety, unaware that an invisible connection had already been established and was manifesting itself in a way he could not control.
He could no longer wait passively, nor could he shrink back out of fear. He had to take the initiative to approach her, to confirm more, and to guide her further before her vague "feeling" dissipated.
He needed to figure out the depth of this "mark," and... whether it could be the key to breaking this cycle of despair.
He opened his eyes, rainwater washing over his face, but his gaze returned to sharpness and determination.
In the fifty-second inning, from this moment on, the rules changed.
He was no longer just a desperate guardian; he was a hunter seeking the truth. And the "familiarity" that the clouds inadvertently revealed was the first glimmer of light he found in this dark labyrinth.
He replied:
"Sleep is very important. If you need calming tea, I have some here."
What seemed like an ordinary act of concern was actually the first step he took in reweaving the web of fate and actively moving closer to others.
The butterfly has already flapped its wings; he must see clearly what kind of storm it will unleash this time.
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