Early the next morning.
Zhou Mingrui’s home, the living room.
“Are you saying that you suddenly feel that staying at home all day is a waste of your precious life and youth, so you resolutely decided to go out and tour the great rivers and mountains of our motherland on a spontaneous trip?”
Zhou Mingrui stared at Lin Chuan in dumbfounded disbelief, searching for any sign that he was joking, and couldn’t help but wonder if his best friend had been possessed by some stray ghost.
That must be it!
It matches perfectly with his recent bouts of dazing off like he had lost his soul.
Is it possession or a painted skin demon?
What should I do?
Can physical force awaken Lin Chuan’s sanity?
Lin Chuan gave Zhou Mingrui a strange look.
Though he seemed to be thinking about something odd, Lin Chuan answered first,
“Not entirely.
Just think of it as me wanting to go home and take a look around.
Anyway, I plan to leave today.
Don’t worry, I’m just going to look and confirm a few things.
I’ll probably be back in about a month.”
Zhou Mingrui hesitated, but in the end, he asked out of concern, “But aren’t your parents divorced?
And didn’t you say you were preparing for the postgraduate entrance exams?
Will you have enough time?”
Lin Chuan was taken aback for a moment upon hearing this, his brow furrowing unconsciously.
After a short pause, he said.
“Oh, not that home.
Let me think…
Just consider it another hometown—a familiar hometown I’ve never actually seen before.”
“As for the entrance exams, of course I’d only go traveling after being fully prepared.”
Zhou Mingrui waved his hand in farewell.
“Alright then, I wish you a safe trip.
Remember to bring something to keep you awake so you don’t miss your stop on the high-speed rail and end up sent all the way to Siberia to dig potatoes.”
Naturally, he didn’t understand Lin Chuan’s artistic, stream-of-consciousness remarks.
What “hometown I’ve never actually seen before”?
It sounded like an attack of second-year syndrome.
With Lin Chuan’s usual personality—preferring to lie down rather than sit—it was utterly unbelievable for him to say something like that.
But they were both adults in their twenties, and boundaries were necessary in friendships.
Seeing that Lin Chuan didn’t intend to elaborate, Zhou Mingrui didn’t press the matter.
Even if Lin Chuan didn’t mind telling him, he wouldn’t ask.
Zhou Mingrui believed that his best friend was not the type to act on impulse on a whim.
That being the case, it meant this truly mattered to Lin Chuan, even more than staying home to sleep.
It wasn’t as if supernatural arts or extraordinary abilities capable of mind control actually existed in this world, right?
Zhou Mingrui was almost amused by his own thought.
If anyone really believed that, they were either a Madman or a fool.
Lin Chuan nodded and was just about to leave when he stopped, as if remembering something.
He took out a blue notebook from his backpack and handed it to Zhou Mingrui.
“Here.
I was so busy shooting the breeze with you last night and ended up drinking too much, so I almost forgot to give you your birthday gift.
These are some settings I wrote by hand for that new book.
It’s probably the only copy in the world, so don’t show it to anyone else.”
Zhou Mingrui took it and, without flipping it open first, patted Lin Chuan’s shoulder firmly.
“Be careful on the road.
Don’t get picked up by some creep while you’re out drunk.”
“Get lost,” Lin Chuan swore with a laugh.
“I’m off then?
Bye.”
“Bye.”
Zhou Mingrui didn’t go to work today.
There had been an error when submitting documents at the bureau a while ago, forcing the entire staff to work back-to-back overtime for several days.
Today, his request for compensatory leave happened to be approved.
This was the only benefit of a low-paying government department: although the pay was low and there was little room for promotion, as long as they weren’t dealing with civil or hygienic city inspections, working overtime at least meant they could rightfully get their leave back.
First, he quietly made breakfast for his parents, who hadn’t gotten up yet, then slumped onto the sofa, intending to take a good look at the new book Lin Chuan had prepared for him to see if it really was “super cool art style, ultra-high battle power” like the guy bragged.
Opening the first page, a small sticky note attached to the flyleaf caught his eye.
On the note was dense handwriting written in black gel pen:
‘Go to my place.
The key is under the doormat.
Inside, on the right, the second cabinet counting from the left—there’s a lottery ticket inside.
It’s about three or four million?
After taxes it’ll be a bit less, I didn’t pay attention, but anyway, take it and say you won it.’
‘Don’t come looking for me.
I’m definitely gone by now, my phone is turned off so you can’t reach me, and all my posts on platforms are scheduled.
So don’t bother trying to contact me, and don’t feel reluctant to accept it.’
‘This money isn’t for you, it’s for your mom.
You mentioned before that she has some chronic condition.
It’s best not to delay treating that kind of illness—it’ll be a living hell in old age and shorten her lifespan!’
‘You know my family situation; those two completely cut off contact with me years ago, and to be honest, there’s no affection left anyway.’
‘Don’t even think about making excuses or saying you can’t accept it.
Don’t make me look down on you.
Just take the money obediently and bring your mom to a big city hospital for treatment, or even abroad if necessary, got it?’
‘I believe that with your ability, you’ll definitely achieve great things in the future, but that’s for later.
Right now, you’re just a clerk in a low-paying office.
How long will it take for you to save enough money?
I checked into this kind of illness, and domestic medical insurance doesn’t cover it for now.’
‘That’s enough writing.
No time to lose, go get it now.
Don’t forget that lottery tickets have a deadline to claim prizes.
I remember…
today seems to be the last day?
If you leave now, you might still make it.’
“Holy shit?!”
Zhou Mingrui forced back the scream that was about to burst out of his throat, popping off the sofa like a coiled spring.
He clamped his hands tightly over his mouth, darted a glance at his parents’ closed door, his heart pounding wildly.
…
Meanwhile, aboard the speeding high-speed train.
Lin Chuan leaned back in his seat, the corners of his mouth curving into a smidgen of amusement.
“I hope Comrade Little Zhou has seen the birthday gift I gave him.
I’m really looking forward to his expression.”
“Pity.
If I had actually stayed there, although Little Zhou would probably take it in the end, he would put on airs to save face in front of me.
How could that compare to leaving him to squirm on his own?”
He sat up straight, pulled down the tray table on the back of the seat ahead, and pulled a thick hardcover notebook out of his backpack.
This was originally his predecessor’s diary, which he later used to jot down various random notes over the years since transmigrating, along with occasional diary entries.
On the cover, he had even mischievously engraved a line of text, cosplaying the notebook from “Your Name.”
His predecessor’s meager and long-severed family ties…
Not this page;
Dark history from when he first transmigrated…
Not this either; oh well, at least it’s a valuable memory;
The day he finally changed his name back to his original name in the household registration system…
The survival contingency plan he made when his paranoia flared up, mistakenly thinking this was the Lord of Mysteries world…
Damn, why haven’t I torn out something so unlucky yet?
Lin Chuan chuckled helplessly as he flipped past those old accounts and absurd contingency plans, his pen tip finally settling on a blank page.
Uncapping his fountain pen, he wrote rustlingly on the paper with a hint of satisfaction from a successful prank:
“What I wrote in the note about it expiring today was obviously just teasing Zhou Mingrui.
The lottery ticket was bought three weeks ago, so it won’t expire even if I wait until I return.”
“However, Zhou Mingrui doesn’t have the habit of buying lottery tickets, so he’ll definitely believe it.
Or rather, with his personality, even if he knows my playful nature, how could Little Zhou, coming from a working-class family, dare gamble that the ‘expiration’ was just Lin Chuan fooling him when faced with such a huge sum of money?
Right now, he’s definitely cursing my name while running frantically to my house.”
“Installing cameras in someone else’s house is impolite, but installing them in my own home is completely reasonable.
Little Zhou’s shocked, frantic, and conflicted expressions in a moment will undoubtedly be recorded crystal clear by the security camera, which is perfectly reasonable.”
“Alas, poor Zhou Mingrui, played like a toy in the palm of Lin Chuan’s hand.”
Having finished writing the last line, Lin Chuan capped his pen with satisfaction and casually signed today’s date in the bottom right corner.
“—March 5, 2018”
Tucking the notebook properly back into his backpack, Lin Chuan turned his gaze back out the window.
The high-speed train was about to enter a dark tunnel, the window glass reflecting his still-young face.
The joy of the prank gradually faded, replaced by the melancholic hesitation of approaching home.
“The world is but a fleeting inn, and I, too, am a traveler…”
He murmured softly, closing his eyes and letting the high-speed train carry him speeding toward that unknown “hometown.”