“Right! I just remembered something.”
Ji Xun suddenly sat up straight, as if struck by a thought. “When I was researching this symbol earlier, I came across a theory. It said that during the Middle Ages, some remote Western kingdoms had legends about the Ouroboros. At the time, some believed it was the earthly representative of a deity. By worshipping it, they could become followers of the god and attain immortality. They even founded a sect for it. I can’t remember the English name, but the Chinese translation was the ‘Descendants of God Cult’.”
“This cult proposed a strange idea: they believed ‘time’ was a lie fabricated by false gods. According to their teachings, there was no such thing as the concept of time in the world. All cause and effect in the universe occurred simultaneously. Everything was interconnected, both the beginning and the end… It was all a convoluted mess, honestly. I got dizzy just reading half of it.”
Shen Kui pondered this. “Everything interconnected, both the beginning and the end…”
“Exactly. That idea perfectly aligns with the image of the Ouroboros. Endless, with no beginning or end. So they believed there was no such thing as death in this world. Life might change forms, but it never truly disappears.” Ji Xun scratched his cheek. “You know, it kind of makes sense.”
“So, Lu Ting and Uncle Xu’s tattoos might represent their religious beliefs?” Shen Kui felt she was starting to piece things together. “I remember Uncle Xu telling me he got the tattoo when he was young and foolish. Maybe he didn’t even know what it meant at the time. That would explain it.”
Uncle Xu had always treated Shen Kui well. From a personal standpoint, she didn’t want him to be involved with the forum incident.
“If that’s the case, your boss might not be a problem, but Lu Ting is definitely suspicious. Hiss… But then again, all the suspicious things about her could just be coincidences.” Ji Xun hesitated, looking at Shen Kui. “I think…”
“What do you think?”
“Not to be selfish or anything, but objectively speaking, I think we should focus on one thing at a time. At least the forum incident has some leads. These scattered pieces you’ve got, I can’t even make heads or tails of them.”
Ji Xun spoke with rare seriousness. “Even though I don’t agree with your friend’s theory, I’ve spent enough time with you to see you’re a clear-headed and rational person. It’s unlikely you’d hallucinate every night for half a month… There’s probably more to it. But we have limited energy. Why don’t we focus on the leads we can actually follow? After all, the last two nights have been fine. As long as nothing else happens, we can just let things unfold naturally. What’s meant to come will come.”
After listening, Shen Kui thought for a moment, then crossed out “3 a.m.” and “Lu Ting’s Death” on the paper. “I agree. Let’s set these two aside for now.”
After a pause, she added, “Provided nothing happens starting tonight. I don’t want a truck crashing into my house in the middle of the night.”
“Pfft. If you were going to die, you’d have died already,” Ji Xun said dismissively.
Shen Kui glared at him. “Easy for you to say.”
Ji Xun quickly explained, “No, I mean, we’ve been keeping watch for two nights, and nothing happened, right?”
“Hard to say. But you’re right. What’s meant to come will come.”
“So you’ve got to adjust your mindset. Look at me. Didn’t I accept all these weird things pretty quickly, too?” Ji Xun boasted shamelessly.
“You?” Shen Kui laughed. “Who was it this morning who got so scared by the camera that they cried and refused to go home?”
Ji Xun’s expression stiffened. “Ahem, that was just a moment of panic…”
Seeing his timid look, Shen Kui inexplicably felt a bit more relaxed.
“By the way, has 412L still not replied?” Shen Kui changed the subject.
“No. I followed your advice and sent them messages for two days straight, but there’s been no response.” Ji Xun took out his phone and handed it to her. “They haven’t been online at all these past two days. I wonder if something’s going on.”
“Speaking of which, what if they never come online again? Won’t we lose contact with them?” Ji Xun said worriedly.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Shen Kui replied. “What about your dad? Did you ask him?”
“I couldn’t get through on the phone. I asked my aunt, and she said he went abroad on a business trip and won’t be back until next month.” Mentioning this, Ji Xun was filled with frustration. “If it weren’t for this urgent matter, I’d never contact him.”
“Then it seems we still have to start with the belongings,” Shen Kui pondered for a moment. “Alright, let’s make time tomorrow to go to the museum again and try to get the list of lost items. Once we have it, we can split up and see if we can find other survivors.”
“Alright, sounds good.” Ji Xun nodded readily, then hesitated as he thought of something. “There’s one more thing I want to remind you.”
“After you passed out, I called you many times, but couldn’t get through. Later, your best friend answered for you, and that’s how I found out you two almost had an accident. Over the past two days, she and I have been running around quite a bit. I think…”
He glanced cautiously at Shen Kui. “I think your best friend is a good person, but she’s just too timid. Besides, she has nothing to do with all this, so maybe you shouldn’t involve her anymore.”
“I know. After tonight’s class reunion, no matter what happens, I won’t let her get involved in these matters anymore,” Shen Kui said calmly. “I don’t want to drag her into this either.”
“Well, it’s not exactly about dragging her in. I just think we got mixed up in these unfortunate things involuntarily. Since she has a choice, there’s no need for her to wade into this mess, right?”
Shen Kui nodded silently.
Seeing Shen Kui in low spirits, Ji Xun started rambling about random topics to lighten the mood.
He was cheerful and talkative, chattering nonstop once he got going, touching on all sorts of subjects. Shen Kui, on the other hand, was steady and sharp, often leaving Ji Xun speechless with her pointed remarks.
After chatting for a while, as dinnertime approached, Shen Kui interrupted Ji Xun’s chatter. “Alright, it’s about time. Let’s find a place to grab a quick bite, and then you should head home to rest.”
Ji Xun widened his eyes. “Oh, right, I still haven’t bought surveillance cameras!”
“You’re really going to buy them?”
“What else? They can spy on me, but I can’t spy on them?” Ji Xun said indignantly. “No way, I’m going right now. I won’t dare go home until I buy a dozen or so to install.” With that, he turned and left.
Shen Kui was still searching for nearby restaurants on her phone. When she looked up, he was already gone.
She sighed. No longer in the mood to look for food, she simply ordered takeout to be delivered home before hailing a cab back herself.
*** ***
Back home, Shen Kui habitually took a shower first.
While looking in the mirror, she noticed that the bathroom mirror had returned to the way it looked when she first moved in. The vase on the dining table, which had inexplicably shattered half a month ago, was also perfectly intact and back in its original place.
All of this seemed to support Tian Ke’s “illusion theory”. But Shen Kui knew very well that everything she had experienced at three in the morning over the past half month was not an illusion.
After her shower, she sat by the bed and quietly thought for a long time.
She repeatedly recalled everything she had seen and heard during this period, every detail, every clue. Constantly analyzing and pondering them in her mind.
After a long while, Shen Kui took a deep breath. She stood up, walked to the bookshelf by the bed, and reached up to retrieve a miniature camera from the top.
This camera was a birthday gift from a friend a few years ago. She occasionally used it to film things she found interesting, so its battery was often fully charged.
Rewind to two nights ago, the night Shen Kui was involved in the taxi accident.
When she discovered the pinhole camera hidden in the smoke detector, she quickly made the same decision as Ji Xun—to fight fire with fire.
That night, she plugged in the camera, hid it behind a stack of books, and left it running continuously for the two days she was away, recording everything that happened in the apartment.
Although she had told both Tian Ke and Ji Xun that she would temporarily set aside the “three in the morning” incident, only she knew that it would remain a thorn in her heart. If she didn’t uncover the truth, she would never be able to sleep peacefully again.
However, out of concern for Tian Ke and Ji Xun, she hadn’t fully revealed her thoughts to them.
After all, Tian Ke was completely unrelated to the incident. Her peaceful life shouldn’t be disrupted because of it. As for Ji Xun, although he was connected to the forum incident, the anomalies at three in the morning had so far only occurred to Shen Kui herself. She couldn’t ask him to take on additional risks.
This unknown fear was something she had to face alone.
Shen Kui looked at the camera in her hand, much like gazing at Pandora’s box she was about to open.
She wanted to see for herself how the vase on the dining table, which had long been shattered, had returned here completely intact.
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152