“Hello, who are you looking for?”
The door cracked open, and an unfamiliar young man stood behind it, sizing Lin Chuan up with curiosity.
For some reason, he felt like the person outside was like a frozen stone.
A moment of dead silence.
Lin Chuan’s voice carried a slight tremor that he himself didn’t even notice:
“Excuse me…
did a family surnamed Lin live here before?”
The young man shook his head and replied, “I don’t know, you must have the wrong place.
This house was built by my grandfather ten years ago.
If you go back a few decades, maybe it’s possible.”
Lin Chuan instinctively glanced inside.
The layout was completely different from his memory; even the apartment plan wasn’t the same.
Forcing down the urge to step inside and look around, he politely closed the door for the other party.
“I’m sorry, I must have misremembered.
Sorry to bother you.”
Lin Chuan didn’t ask anyone else.
That would be a futile struggle.
He told himself with absolute clarity: “This is the end.
There is no sequel, no plot twist.”
Because his grandfather had built the house in 2007, and he was born the following year, whereas that young man looked to be in his twenties.
Lin Chuan recalled a school spring trip back in elementary school.
He and a few close classmates had taken a group photo in the park, but after it was taken, he felt like something was off, until a friend beside him pointed it out:
“Why didn’t you put yourself in the picture?”
The train station, the department store, the plaza, the convenience store…
The world was like a master painter, perfectly replicating the entire scroll of the mortal realm, yet forgetting to paint Lin Chuan into it.
And his previous actions were merely those of an obstinate wanderer, seeking a shred of comfort in a dream.
But dreams must eventually end.
Like a colorful bubble floating in the air for a moment, only to burst silently.
Lin Chuan staggered out the door and leaned against a billboard.
As the sky gradually darkened, he heard the parents of the family behind him calling their child to dinner over and over again.
“…Don’t stay up late again today.
You sleep late and wake up late, and you never show up when it’s time to eat.”
The voice seemed a bit faint, as if separated by a layer of water.
He couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
I have to eat on time.
Lin Chuan struggled to stand up straight, stepping somewhat stiffly onto the concrete road of the alley.
He walked through the alleyway, not looking at the unfamiliar buildings on either side, nor turning back even once.
I have to eat on time.
He retraced his steps, feeling like a long time had passed before he saw the outline of the department store.
However, when he reached the fifth floor, the buffet restaurant was still brightly lit, which meant not much time had actually passed.
Lin Chuan paid for three people and the deposit, calmly explaining to the waiter, “There are two more.
They’ll be here in a bit.”
Entering the restaurant, he clumsily searched for a familiar spot—a cushioned booth by the window, which should be further inside.
A warm family of three was sitting there.
A little girl was running around excitedly, taking plate after plate of mousse cake.
Her father reminded her not to take too much, as they would be fined their deposit if they couldn’t finish it.
The Mother simply snuck the extra desserts back.
Lin Chuan watched them quietly from a distance.
His eyes were vacant, as if looking right through the parents to see another family from years ago.
Back then, his father would tap him on the head, complaining that he “only picked the things that weren’t worth the price,” but would ultimately let him just “take whatever you like.”
Lin Chuan withdrew his gaze, turned, and chose a nearby seat to sit down.
Of the four-person table, he only occupied the corner against the wall, leaving the rest of the space completely empty.
He took three sets of bowls and chopsticks, filled them with different foods, and placed two sets on this side and one set on the opposite side.
Lin Chuan twitched the corners of his mouth, forcing a smile.
Although he couldn’t see his own expression, it probably didn’t look very good.
He suddenly felt a sense of empathy with the original novel’s Klein; except Klein only took one night, while he hadn’t dared to face it until five years later.
He reached out with his chopsticks, poked the marrow out of a lamb chop, and put it in his mouth.
It tasted exactly the same as before.
“Dad, Mom.”
Lin Chuan swallowed the food, his voice extremely soft, like a whisper to someone:
“I’m doing okay now.
You don’t have to worry about me anymore, I can support myself.
I even made a friend in college.
He’s really a great guy, I’ll introduce him to you when I get back.
Oh, right, I’m also planning to take the postgraduate entrance exam this year.
Once this year is over, your son will be a graduate student…”
He finally couldn’t go on.
His vision grew blurrier and blurrier, like riding a bicycle on a rainy night in the past, unable to see or hear anything.
He actually knew the answer; he just refused to give up hope until he confirmed it with his own eyes.
An Earth where the National Soccer Team actually made it to the World Cup, and where his college roommate was named Zhou Mingrui, had no place for an outsider like Lin Chuan.
It made perfect sense.
Lin Chuan closed his eyes and slumped over the table, covering his face with his hands, letting out only stifled sobs.
I’m back, I will return, I will return again.
…
The lights in the buffet restaurant went out one by one.
Almost everyone had left, with only a few waiters still tidying up the tables and chairs.
Lin Chuan was the last to leave.
In the end, he didn’t finish the food he had taken, nor did he intend to ask for his deposit back.
But the restaurant owner stopped him and insisted on stuffing the deposit back to him.
The middle-aged man, who clearly looked like he had a story to tell, patted him on the shoulder.
He was about to say something, but saw Lin Chuan stuff the money into his pocket and walk away without looking back.
Money given to him for free—why wouldn’t he take it?
He wasn’t a fool.
The owner froze, momentarily at a loss as he stood there.
However, he saw the young man ahead wave his hand with his back turned, shouting back with a laugh:
“Boss Gao, you’ve got to be more careful.
Being such a soft touch, no wonder you go out of business after the New Year.
Remember to watch out for your partner friend.
I still want to come back for another meal next year—”
How did this kid know his surname?
Did he know him?
And what was he talking about?
Boss Gao was a bit bewildered.
He wanted to press for answers, but the young man’s tone was too natural, like casual small talk.
Still, he let out a chuckle.
“Damn, that back view actually looks pretty cool.”
At least he didn’t have to worry that this young man, who looked like his entire family had just died, would go out and jump into a river.
The owner turned around; he had things of his own to do.
But, watch out for his partner?
Although he was a strange guy, maybe he should try to keep an eye out.
…
Lin Chuan walked out of the department store and stood at the intersection.
Before him was a constant stream of passersby and endless traffic.
Even in this small county town in 2018, the city had its own breath.
He went nowhere, sitting on a stone bench by the roadside all night, watching the night fall and the lights turn on again.
The crowd dispersed and gathered once more.
As the sun rose in the east, the aroma of steamed buns drifted from the neighborhood.
Lin Chuan recalled that before coming here, he had mentioned to Zhou Mingrui that he would “probably be back in about a month.”
This month could either be a time to reunite with and settle his parents, or it could be a time for a lost soul, frozen at the age of seventeen, to bid farewell to the past.
But looking at it now, it wasn’t actually necessary.
Lin Chuan leaned down, scooped up a handful of loose soil, and opened his fingers, letting it slowly sift through.
This was not his hometown, and there was none of his native soil here.
But that didn’t matter.
He was still alive, he still had a chance, and he would return to his hometown sooner or later, no matter how long it took.
He would bring his friends along and tell his parents about his experiences after leaving home with a smile.
Would that be a good story?
It definitely would be.