WC ⋆ Chapter 65

This was the second time Jiang Yishen had watched the Spring Festival Gala, and he could already recite most of the host’s opening remarks from memory.

This time the dumpling wrappers didn’t split during cooking. He was waiting in anxious suspense for the Double Color Ball lottery draw.

The moment nine-fifteen arrived, he would switch channels, but Jiang Changpeng insisted on keeping his eyes on the Spring Festival Gala and called it a rule passed down from the Ancestors.

Jiang Yishen simply pulled out his phone to watch the livestream, clutching that lottery ticket in his hand, his breathing unsteady.

But somewhere in his subconscious there was a strange calm. It seemed as though a person’s sixth sense would flare up before certain important events, and now, facing the numbers that had once won first prize, he had a premonition: the numbers drawn from the balls tonight would be different.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered this possibility. In many science fiction theories, this was regarded as an automatic correction by the space-time continuum, like the black cat that had forgotten his scent.

But he still wanted to take a gamble. No harm in buying a ticket, and if there really was such a loophole to exploit, wouldn’t the original accumulation of capital shoot straight through the roof.

The colorful balls began to tumble, rolling along with his mood, colliding and producing a noise loud enough to drown out the singing and dancing on TV. The first ball dropped, and in the instant he made out the number, Jiang Yishen’s heart was squeezed hard. He knew there would be no turning things around.

The number had changed.

He had no heart left to watch the next few numbers. One different digit was enough to make the point: there were no bargains to be had inside the loop, and windfalls from the sky weren’t so plentiful.

Jiang Yishen sent Qi Lin a screenshot, utterly disappointed.

Qi Lin’s attitude was actually quite good. He told him: It’s fine, don’t force what isn’t meant to be yours, a windfall that’s forced won’t hold.

This bit of comfort swept away the regret from just moments ago. Jiang Yishen found that ever since going through the loop events, he had become incredibly superstitious. Compared to things like “buy one every day and you’ll eventually hit it” or “we can earn it ourselves,” the idea that a forced windfall won’t hold was what truly spoke to his heart.

“When does the opera segment come on?” Jiang Changpeng was eating dumplings beside him, holding his bowl and staring at the dull skit on TV.

Jiang Yishen glanced at the performers on stage and said, “Two acts from now.”

“What’s the next one?”

Jiang Yishen didn’t even need to think: “A song. A bunch of guys you won’t recognize.”

“You know it pretty well.” Jiang Changpeng looked at him sideways.

Jiang Yishen thought to himself that he had already watched it once. He didn’t just know the next act; he also knew what the person currently on camera would say next.

The lottery interlude brought no changes to the evening. When midnight arrived, Jiang Changpeng took him outside to set off firecrackers, just as in the previous loop. This time Jiang Yishen remembered to remind him to put on a hat. He remembered that during the last time they set off firecrackers, Jiang Changpeng had kept rubbing his head.

Jiang Changpeng scoffed at this and refused to wear one, and headed out the door cradling several bags of fireworks.

Jiang Yishen let out a sigh, picked up the hat hanging nearby, folded it into his down jacket pocket, stuffing it in until the pocket bulged, then followed behind his dad, who had already walked quite far ahead.

Before they even reached the Small Square, the phone in his pocket buzzed. Jiang Yishen was a little surprised; during this same moment in the last loop he hadn’t received any calls. But his dad’s fluffy hat had been folded and tucked into the pocket on top of his phone, and it took him considerable effort to dig the phone out.

To his surprise, the call was from Qi Lin.

Thinking it must be something urgent, he tilted his head slightly to block the wind and pressed the phone to his ear: “What’s wrong, baby?”

Qi Lin’s voice came through the receiver: “Are you out setting off fireworks?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Yishen quickened his pace to catch up with his dad. “Not there yet.”

Jiang Changpeng heard the sound and thought he was being spoken to, so he turned his head, only to see Jiang Yishen on the phone: “Who is it?”

Jiang Yishen held the phone out toward him a little: “It’s Xiao Qi. Want to listen?”

His dad’s expression went through a whole range of emotions in an instant. He held back whatever he wanted to say, not knowing what to say, shot Jiang Yishen a glare, and walked away.

“I’ll film it for you when we get there.” Jiang Yishen said, then asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Qi Lin said. “Didn’t you tell me to chat with you more often?”

Jiang Yishen’s entire face burned hot. After quite a long pause he said, “Ah, so you heard that. I thought you had passed out by then.”

Qi Lin went silent for a moment, then hung up hard.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Jiang Yishen hurried to call back.

At the Small Square, clusters of people were setting off fireworks here and there. Jiang Changpeng had chosen the same spot as the last loop for lighting the firecrackers. While his dad was arranging them, Jiang Yishen pressed the hat down onto his head. Jiang Changpeng said a few impatient words but didn’t take it off.

Seeing the familiar fireworks for the second time, Jiang Yishen watched in a kind of trance. He didn’t actually remember what the scene had looked like the first time around. Back then he had thought it was a once-a-year New Year’s Eve, and his mind hadn’t been on the sky. He had been on a video call filming it for Qi Lin to see, his heart warm and glowing.

Back then, his dad’s short hair had been blown cold by the wind, and he had still stubbornly kept silent.

This time they were both bundled up warmly. The blooming firelight reflected on their faces, and Jiang Yishen experienced once again the happiness that belonged to New Year’s Eve.

That such happiness could be cycled through multiple times made him wonder whether he was drawing on the good fortune of the second half of his life in advance.

Midnight arrived quietly amid the clamor. Jiang Yishen closed his eyes and felt the twisting rewind of the space-time continuum. The fireworks contracted back, the Spring Festival Gala rewound to its opening remarks, all things reset once more, and he returned to the foot of Qi Lin’s building, beside the streetlamp.

January 29th, 00:00, the fourth loop.

A life-or-death sprint at midnight was something Jiang Yishen was almost getting used to. This time he hadn’t brought Qi Lin along to run with him. They had arranged to meet during the day. The itinerary for this loop had already been planned: they were going to see Yin Yu one last time.

After that roast duck dinner in mid-month, they hadn’t been in contact again. Qi Lin didn’t know whether Yin Yu would be staying here for the New Year, so he had sent a message ahead of time to ask, but it was like a stone dropped into the sea with no reply.

It wasn’t until noon the next day that Yin Yu sent back an extremely indifferent question mark.

Qi Lin was sitting in the living room waiting for his dad to finish making lunch, afraid that a single second’s delay would mean waiting another hundred years, and immediately replied: Is it convenient to meet?

Yin Yu: ?

This kind of reply was absolutely unprecedented. Qi Lin suspiciously scrolled up through the chat history. In every past exchange there had been give and take; Yin Yu basically never sent just a single punctuation mark, and he didn’t even add periods to his messages.

Possessed by a ghost?

Qi Lin didn’t know how to respond to that question mark, so he set it aside. After finishing a whole meal, he finally received Yin Yu’s second message.

Yin Yu: Sure, I’m free today, let’s do the afternoon

Qi Lin: Do you have a split personality?

Yin Yu: What’s that supposed to mean

Yin Yu: Oh, that wasn’t me just now, sorry

Qi Lin: ?

Qi Lin: You actually have a split personality?

He wasn’t joking. Yin Yu was such a profoundly mysterious person that any unreasonable thing happening to him seemed perfectly reasonable. He genuinely thought Yin Yu was having a weird episode.

It wasn’t until the three of them met at the cafe that afternoon, and Yin Yu took off his scarf to reveal marks on his neck that were difficult to look at directly, that Qi Lin thought of another possibility more in line with how a normal person would think: someone had used Yin Yu’s phone to reply to his WeChat for him.

They were truly difficult to look at directly. Not only were there red bite marks, but also marks left by rope, the kind that made your eyes go blank staring at them.

Qi Lin recalled that during their second meeting, Jiang Yishen had thought Yin Yu had the same number as him, and Fan Zi had told them, “I don’t know what your number is, but you two probably don’t have the same one, and he plays it very intense, so don’t mess with him.”

Looking at it now, every word had been true, thoroughly accurate, and entirely sincere.

Qi Lin and Jiang Yishen exchanged a glance, each running their own calculations.

In the last loop, Jiang Yishen had still been worried that Yin Yu might simply vanish into thin air. Now it was fine. Even though he had no friends and his family existed only in his own accounts of them, at least the man had a partner.

The layer of eerie, unsettling atmosphere abruptly dissipated, dropping straight into Category Three territory[[1]].

“Stop staring.” Yin Yu rapped his knuckles on the table. “If you have something to say, say it.”

“That spot is way too precarious. Watch out for your life,” Jiang Yishen said, pointing at his neck.

Yin Yu took a sip of coffee: “No need for your concern.”

“Can you still see the red thread?” Qi Lin asked.

Yin Yu wasn’t very satisfied with the coffee here. He pursed his lips and set it down, lowering his head to study the prices on the receipt, not looking at either of them: “I can’t anymore. The death energy I mentioned seeing in hospitals before, I can’t see that either.”

Expected. Qi Lin asked, “Do you know which New Year’s Eve this is for us?”

This question finally piqued Yin Yu’s interest. He raised an eyebrow and looked the two of them over: “The third?”

“The fourth,” Qi Lin said.

“Wow, impressive.” Yin Yu pushed his coffee further away and propped his chin in his hand. “What are you planning to do? Keep looping through today indefinitely?”

“There are two things I want to ask you.” Qi Lin smiled a little. “The first thing is that we’ve noticed the closer we get to the end of the loop, the more things revert to how they were before the loop started. And you’re the only outsider who knows the loop is happening. Could that have any effect on you?”

Yin Yu nodded with an air of deep mystery, thought for a moment, and asked: “I didn’t follow that. Say it more plainly.”

Jiang Yishen answered on Qi Lin’s behalf: “It’s basically asking whether you might suddenly disappear along with the loop.”

“How could that happen!” Yin Yu was startled by them and even glanced up at the security camera in the shop. “I’m not an NPC. Does the world revolve around you two? What, if you two stop looping, this cafe shuts down, Chinese people stop celebrating New Year, and I drop dead on the spot?”

Qi Lin couldn’t help but also look toward the security camera, thinking to himself: no wonder this person got along with Fan Zi. Turns out they both knew to leave a record when working out in the field.

“Alright, then the second thing is a favor we’d like to ask.” Jiang Yishen leaned forward and lowered his voice. “This year is Qi Lin’s Zodiac Year. Do you have any channels to get some really effective protective amulets? If that’s not possible, even the kind people wear at weddings would do. Ideally something that can also bless marital happiness and career fulfillment at the same time.”

Yin Yu spread his hands: “Where am I supposed to get those for you?”

“You can definitely do it! Didn’t you say you studied under a feng shui master for a while?” Jiang Yishen worked hard to convince him. “We bought a random string of obsidian beads at the foot of a temple and our wishes came true. You’ll be fine.”

“Wishes came true…” Those four words seemed to trigger some memory. Yin Yu made a sharp intake of breath, and finally made a decision: “Maybe it really would work. But I haven’t been in touch with the master for a long time either. I’ll go back and ask. I’ll let you know on WeChat if there’s any news.”