Chapter 3

Translator: Lordbluefire

Praying while on the verge of a crisis and misfortune—this behavior was akin to how a critically ill patient would turn to any doctor they could find.

Be that as it may, Qing Chen thought if the digits on his forearm were a supernatural phenomenon, then it was only appropriate for it to be managed by a supernatural entity.

To Qing Chen, there was no harm in praying anyway.

He preferred being prepared and not leaving any room for regret later on.

It was now 9.30 p.m.

Qing Chen sat on his bed and looked at his phone, which was the only source of dim light within the bedroom. The only messages he had on WeChat* were the few exchanges with his deskmate, Nan Gengchen. No one else sent him messages.

Qing Chen felt a pang of disappointment as the icon of his mother, Zhang Wanfang, sat quietly without notification.

Of course, the disappointment was merely a smidge.

He didn’t know what he was expecting either.

However, he didn’t hold a grudge against his mother.

His father’s gambling habits had cost many of the family’s estates to be sold, and there was also a history of family violence and cheating. Hence, Qing Chen didn’t feel that his mother did anything wrong in initiating the divorce.

On the contrary, Qing Chen who had witnessed his father’s abuse of his mother was happy for his mother.

Because it was the right choice.

The day before his parent’s divorce, his maternal grandmother attempted to dissuade his mother: A single woman with a 10-year-old child from a previous marriage, how are you ever going to build a family? Who will ever marry you again?

After hearing this, Qing Chen chose to live with his father at the time of their divorce.

He remembered the astonished look on his parent’s faces, but he knew it was the right choice.

Now, his mother had started a new phase of life and had a blissful marriage with her new family. Qing Chen might have felt the sense of loss, but he was still careful not to disrupt them.

Countdown 2:31:12

Qing Chen suddenly thought of an issue. If this was the last two and half hours of his life, then what should he do?

This question was serious yet romantic.

Because it was asking this: What did you always want to do but hadn’t had the time to do? Or perhaps, what was something you never had the guts to do?

A love yet confessed, a person you had yet to meet, a place you wanted to go but had not made the trip, or words left unspoken—those were all answers within the category.

This question went straight to the core of the heart.

At this moment, Qing Chen got up and put on his jacket. With not much time left for the countdown, Qing Chen decided to leave his house once more.

He pushed his broken bicycle out of the house and sped toward his destination.

The breeze of the autumn night was chilly, and a few pedestrians were milling around.

Riding on his bicycle, Qing Chen looked calm and his jacket was swept behind him by the force of the wind.

He had many regrets in his lifetime and a lot of things he didn’t dare to do. But he didn’t have to cower or fear tonight, he only needed courage.

At some point, Qing Chen thought, if he truly was to die tonight, then he had to complete the most important thing. He didn’t have time left.

Hence, he headed to Peony Grand Hotel first, then Luo City Grand Hotel, and even the Luo Yin residential courtyard, but he didn’t find the person he was looking for.

After that, Qing Chen rode through a narrow alley on his bicycle, past the Qilihe* bridge, and arrived at a residential building.

When he spotted the familiar, broken second-hand motorbike parked under the block and heard the familiar collision of mahjong tiles from the second floor…

He picked up his phone and dialed 110. “Hello, police officers, I would like to report a case of illegal gambling at Luo Jian District, Long Teng Neighborhood, Block 17, entrance 2, unit 201.”

The police staff seemed to startle for two seconds before reacting. “Got it. We will arrange for police dispatch right now.”

It was only until then that Qing Chen felt relief and turned around to ride his way back home.

He had completed what he set out to do.

At home, Qing Chen looked at the white paths on his forearm.

Countdown 1:02:21.

He began to re-examine his preparatory work.

Wait, wait. Was he going to stay home for that moment?

Qing Chen had once watched a horror film. In that film, the protagonist encountered a “filthy thing”* and got haunted by a ghost at midnight daily.

The protagonist would dodge and hide, even to the extent of going into the deep mountain and forest. Yet, the ghost always found him eventually.

At that time, Qing Cheng had thought, why didn’t the protagonist stay in a crowded place?

Under normal circumstances, anyone would feel more secure staying in a crowded place.

For example, the protagonist could have stayed inside a nightclub. For some reason, Qing Chen felt that the ghost might have been more scared of the hundreds of people head-banging to the booming music at the club.

That was why Qing Chen followed this chain of thought; should he also head toward somewhere crowded?

Or perhaps, he could head directly to Luo City’s White Horse Temple… There were Bodhisattvas there after all.

Not only was there Guanyin Bodhisattva, but there were also Manjushri Bodhisattva* and Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva*.

It seemed very safe too.

But eventually, Qing Chen decided to stay home. Compared to demons and ghouls, it was more possible for things like zombies to appear at the end of the countdown.

If that happened, then there was no difference between him being in a crowded location or not. At the same time, it didn’t seem like Bodhisattvas had to handle such a situation either.

Qing Chen already prepared some supplies at home. If it was truly a zombie invasion, then he could still hide in his home for a while.

Countdown 00:31:49

During the last half hour, Qing Chen sat by his study desk and turned on the light. Quietly, he wrote and left behind his will.

If he died today, then perhaps a friend or family member could see his last words someday.

If he didn’t die, then maybe his life would continue in an entirely different world.

Countdown 00:00:12

Qing Chen sat upright after finishing his will, having a tight grip on the boning knife in his right hand. In his clear eyes, his pupils constricted suddenly.

The closer he was to the last second, the more tranquil his state of mind became.

It was just like the moment before a tsunami engulfed an isolated island; there was no undercurrent rushing under the sea, only deep deliberation and fierce valor!

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1.

No ghouls, no zombies, no disasters.

Qing Chen watched quietly as his surroundings fell into silence. The time on his phone seemed to be stuck eternally at 12:00:00.

On the wall, the clock’s second hand stopped moving abruptly, and the lights outside the window no longer flickered.

As Qing Chen stood up, his movement seemed to have shattered the frozen time. Like a mirror, the world disintegrated before his eyes.

Qing Chen held onto his boning knife and inspected his surroundings. His study desk and the apartment were gone. All that was left was darkness.

Immediately after, Qing Chen fell into the darkness as well.

…

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed, but it felt like a split second. Qing Chen suddenly lost his concept of time.

Within the darkness, the world seemed to piece itself again. The pieces that came from unknown origins pieced together in an instant and formed a brand-new world.

At this moment, Qing Chen was lying on a narrow, rigid bed. It was a completely foreign environment, one he had never been to.

First things first, he looked at his palms. There was nothing; the boning knife he was initially holding was long gone.

Then, he checked his forearm and was shocked to find that the white digits had changed.

“Return countdown: 48:00:00”

48 hours, which was 2 days, Qing Chen thought.

In the next moment, the countdown jumped a second: 47:59:59.