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“Huh?”
CC looked at Lin Xian in disbelief. “You... you’re just going along with this?”
“No, no, no.” Lin Xian shook his head, disagreeing. “I have to correct you. I was moved by the Lord. Such compassionate and generous behavior—how could it not touch anyone’s heart?”
“In this broken age, the Lord and His followers care for the whole world, pitying the people. They provide free breakfasts for dockworkers and homeless wanderers like us. If we don’t believe in Him, what should we believe in? The ruthless capitalists?”
Lin Xian spoke eloquently, leaving CC speechless. She felt like... something was different about this X Country man in front of her compared to the loyal, honest people her grandmother always described. But...
“Alright.” CC nodded. “The priest also said that God forgives everyone, and those who return from their lost path are our companions.”
“Exactly, that’s greatness,” Lin Xian declared, placing his right hand over his chest. His eyes sparkled with devotion, loyalty, and a genuine glow. “Long live Jesus.”
...
This wasn’t Lin Xian’s first encounter with Christianity.
Back when he was attending university in Donghai, he had come across similar activities. There were several churches in Donghai, with church organizations regularly hosting gatherings in the city, in parks, or places where people congregated. The activity was simple and down-to-earth—giving away eggs.
As long as you listened to the teachings and left your contact information, you could get eggs. If you were “moved” on the spot, you could even get a few more. That led a group of older men and women to rush in to believe in Jesus, praising Christian teachings and the Lord’s mercy. They’d even fight each other to prove their piety. The scene was grand, and the success rate was almost 100%.
However, when the eggs were gone, so was their faith.
The piety of those men and women only lasted as long as the eggs did. If they promised more eggs tomorrow, they’d murmur Bible verses that night. If not, then goodbye Jesus, hello fried egg.
X Country people had always been like this. They never believed in useless gods; whoever worked, they believed in. If it didn’t work, they’d quickly switch to another. This land didn’t support idle gods.
Lin Xian, naturally, also had this adaptable kind of faith. When he saw those church activities back then, he had thought that if they handed out snacks or milk tea, he wouldn’t mind reciting a few Bible verses.
Pragmatism was, after all, the core belief of X Country people. If it wasn’t necessary, they wouldn’t make it complicated.
“I wonder... if my Lord and Father could help me with my shoe problem,” Lin Xian said, looking down at his dirty, bare feet with a wry smile. “Look at me, I have no shoes, I’m wearing short sleeves in the middle of winter, and I’m cold and starving. If the Lord and Father can solve these two problems for me... I’ll sing the loudest during the hymn later.”
“You can get a coat,” CC said indifferently. “The church at the dock hands out coats for poor believers, donated by a kind merchant. The aim is to keep wanderers and beggars warm in winter, preventing them from freezing to death.”
“Wait, really?” Lin Xian truly felt the light of Jesus for the first time. “They really give out winter coats?” He had been half-joking, but it seemed to be true. Ṙ
“And shoes? Are there any shoes?”
CC rolled her eyes at him. “You really think the church is a shopping mall? Of course, there are no shoes. The church and the priest won’t provide those. But... if other believers know you’re in need, they might offer you a helping hand. But there’s no guarantee.”
Lin Xian nodded. “So, it’s all about acting... I mean, demonstrating one’s faith.”
“...”
CC was at a loss for words. She finally understood. This man was only here for the food, clothes, and shelter. Despite all his cries of “Long live Jesus,” there wasn’t a trace of real faith in his heart.
“Alright, do what you want. Just don’t cause any trouble for me. And when we get into the church, pretend you don’t know me. I don’t want to get dragged into whatever mess you create.”
“By the way, what’s your name? How should I call you?”
“Lin Xian,” he replied.
“Link?”
“No, it’s Lin Xian-Xian.” Lin Xian spelled it out carefully for her. “It’s an X Country name. Just call me whatever sounds close enough. I’ll know you’re talking to me.”
“Alright, let’s hurry up to the dock. I can’t wait for the service.”
CC snorted softly. “You can’t wait for breakfast, can you?”
...
The slanted morning sunlight shone through the narrow streets of Brooklyn, spreading warmth and a sense of calm over the city. Lin Xian was barefoot. He followed behind CC. The two of them walked along uneven paths, wandering in the morning sun, headed toward the dock.
Lin Xian followed behind, making casual conversation. All the while, thoughts of spacetime laws, temporal interference, and the unresolved mystery of the Millennium Stake filled his mind. He couldn’t quite figure out what was going wrong.
And what worried him more was not knowing when CC might vanish into a cloud of blue stardust. That uncertainty kept him constantly on edge.
The Millennium Stake would dissolve every 24 years, precisely at 00:42 on the girl’s 20th birthday. But the problem was... every Millennium Stake girl had a different birthday.
Chu An Qing was born on March 28th; Zhang Yu Qian on January 15th; CC from 600 years into the future on August 29th; and the current CC... he could only estimate her birthday was in November, without knowing the exact day.
Troublesome.
“Huh?” Suddenly, Lin Xian thought of something important! All Millennium Stake girls had a similar, strange pattern in their dreams.
He could still feel his connection to the future—that invisible “kite string” that anchored him to 2234 was still intact. The worldline hadn’t shifted; he was still linked to the future, and he could return anytime.
If he changed history here in 1952, that elasticity of time would snap. The worldline could diverge, and he’d end up on an entirely different path.
The “kite string” would break, and he’d be trapped—lost in time, unable to return to where he belonged.
He remembered the promise he had made to Liu Feng: “Don’t worry. I’ll be a good, law-abiding citizen here in 1952. No killing, no revealing anything to anyone important. I’ll just be an observer, like an NPC, a camera. My goal is just to collect information and use it for a breakthrough back in our own time.”
Lin Xian sighed. Such was the dilemma of a time traveler. But he decided he wouldn’t be too rigid—he’d adapt as needed. For now, the best plan was to stay close to CC. She hadn’t yet become a Millennium Stake, and something was bound to happen to trigger it.
All he had to do was wait for that “something” to happen.
“Lin Xian, we’re here,” CC said, halting suddenly.
She pointed to a patch of greenery to their right. Lin Xian followed her gaze.
Beyond two rows of evergreen shrubs stood a modest, classic-looking Christian church. It wasn’t very large, but it seemed big enough to hold more than a hundred people for a service.
Lin Xian tilted his head back, looking at the cross perched at the top of the church. Its design was unlike anything he had seen at the churches in Donghai. Maybe there was some symbolism to its style, but he wasn’t knowledgeable enough about Christianity to tell. He was only here for a free meal, after all.
He glanced left, down towards the docks below. The church sat on higher ground, with dozens of stone steps leading down to the docks. It was early morning, and the dockworkers were already bustling about. Travelers boarded and disembarked from ships; the entire area buzzed with life.
Compared to the shabby clothes of the dockworkers, the passengers from the merchant ships looked especially refined. The men wore well-fitted black suits with matching hats and long scarves, giving off a classic black-and-white movie charm. Meanwhile, the women wore colorful dresses—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple—their clothes vividly bright, perhaps even a little garish.
That was the character of the time. In Lin Xian’s era, women wearing such flashy colors would be considered “tacky,” but in the ’50s, it was the height of fashion.
“Stop staring, Lin Xian. Let’s get to the church,” CC said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the right.
“The service is starting soon, and we can’t be late.”
They walked down the brick-paved path, heading for the church. The small stones beneath Lin Xian’s feet felt uncomfortable, and he hoped they’d receive the Lord’s grace soon—in the form of a meal.
As they approached the church, Lin Xian noticed a large pot and several tents set up outside. The pot was filled with creamy, thick corn chowder, and beside it were stacks of heavy-looking bread.
“Is it limited?” Lin Xian asked, his stomach grumbling at the sight.
“One serving per person,” CC replied.
“That’s not much...” Lin Xian said, eyeing the bread. “Probably not enough for those dockworkers.”
CC nodded. “But this way, more people get something. The funds donated by the believers are limited. They want to help as many as they can.”
She looked at Lin Xian, sizing him up. He was tall and strong—he clearly needed more than just one serving.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a gentle smile. “I’ll share half of mine with you.”
Lin Xian shook his head. “That’s too much. I’ll be fine with a little—maybe I can figure something out...”
“No, it’s fine,” CC interrupted, shaking her head. “I can’t eat that much anyway, and you look like you haven’t eaten properly in days. Just eat more.”
She gave him a playful glare. “Just promise me you won’t embarrass me in there. Behave yourself, okay? You—you don’t exactly look like a believer. More like an... Indian thief.”
“Why Indian?” Lin Xian frowned, raising an eyebrow.
CC shrugged. “Just saying. You’re lucky you’re in this era. If it were a few decades later, you’d get arrested for saying things like that.”
“I’m just being honest,” CC said, tugging at his sleeve. “You’re wearing animal skin. I thought I was imagining it, but it’s real fur. What did you go through to end up in fur clothes, without even proper shoes?”
Lin Xian shook his head with a small smile. The otter fur he wore was valuable, no matter the era. But now, it just seemed like old rags.
“Do I really look that poor and pitiful?”
CC nodded. “Yes. Very poor, very pitiful. You’re wearing fur, dressed for summer in this cold weather, and no shoes. Worse off than anyone in the Brooklyn slums.”
“Good.” Lin Xian smiled, his gaze drifting up to the statues of Yahweh and the Virgin Mary carved into the church wall.
“Thanks to you, I think I know exactly how to get the Lord’s grace.”
“Wait... what are you planning?” CC asked, her eyes widening.
Lin Xian smirked. “Just watch.” He stepped ahead of her, placing his hands on the double wooden doors.
Creeeeak—
The doors swung open, and sunlight poured in, framing Lin Xian as he stepped into the sacred church...
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