Shen Kui spent the entire morning at the office waiting for the legal department colleague, but they never showed up. To avoid raising suspicion, she didn’t ask any other coworkers about their whereabouts. After lunch, she requested leave from her boss on the pretext of feeling unwell and headed straight to University A.
Before arriving, she used her phone to search for information about Lu Zhengrong, gaining a general understanding of her old classmate’s situation.
After graduating with a bachelor’s degree from University A, Lu Zhengrong went abroad and has been conducting physics research overseas for many years. Last year, he suddenly returned to China, immediately stirring up waves in academic circles. Just the long, glittering list of achievements she found online was enough to dazzle Shen Kui’s eyes.
From any perspective, this was someone who seemed completely unrelated to Shen Kui. If it weren’t for the information she’d gathered at the class reunion, she would have found it difficult to connect him to the series of strange events.
The lecture was scheduled to begin at 2 p.m. Shen Kui arrived at University A an hour early. Before leaving, she had drunk a large cup of fruit tea gifted by a colleague, so she made a quick stop at the restroom near the entrance before entering the auditorium.
The fluorescent lights in the restroom were bright, so bright that Shen Kui even felt a bit dizzy. She splashed some water on her face, feeling much clearer-headed, and then stepped into the auditorium.
It was still early. The venue was sparsely populated. Since there were no seating restrictions, she found a corner seat, leaned back comfortably in the chair, and observed her surroundings.
Suddenly, a deep voice sounded from behind her, tinged with uncertainty: “Shen Kui?”
Shen Kui turned around at the sound and immediately recognized the tall, poised young man standing before her as the very person she had come to see—Lu Zhengrong.
She nodded calmly and said reservedly, “Long time no see.”
Lu Zhengrong smiled. His features were sharp, making him look serious when he wasn’t smiling. But when he did, his face relaxed, revealing a particularly handsome appearance.
He naturally took a seat beside Shen Kui. The sudden closeness caused her to instinctively lean back slightly. Lu Zhengrong seemed to notice her subtle retreat and apologized, “Sorry, I’m a bit excited.”
He moved back a little, extended his hand, and said politely and restrainedly, “Long time no see, Shen Kui.”
Shen Kui couldn’t quite describe her feelings. The moment she saw him, the chains of memory in her mind seemed to loosen a little. She felt briefly disoriented but quickly refocused her attention on him.
She reached out and shook his hand briefly. Lu Zhengrong said cheerfully, “I never thought after all these years, you haven’t changed at all.”
“Really? I can hardly remember what I was like back then,” Shen Kui replied, feigning nonchalance.
“You were often like this before, sitting alone in a corner without saying a word. If no one disturbed you, you could sit there all day.”
Lu Zhengrong reminisced about the past, his expression nostalgic, as if he were genuinely recalling their student days.
Shen Kui observed him discreetly. Although he appeared perfectly natural, given her boss’s earlier contradictory behavior, she didn’t dare let her guard down easily.
After exchanging a few simple words, someone behind them urged Lu Zhengrong to leave.
He checked the time and apologized, “It’s almost time to start. I need to go prepare.”
He took a business card from the breast pocket of his suit and handed it to Shen Kui with both hands. “This has my contact information. Please keep it. After the lecture, I’d like to invite you to dinner, if it’s convenient for you. I miss our student days, and I think we’d have a lot to talk about.”
He emphasized the last sentence, his gaze fixed deeply on Shen Kui as he spoke, a flicker of something she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her intuition told her that Lu Zhengrong must be hiding some clues.
She naturally accepted the card and offered the first genuine smile since they’d met. “It would be my honor.”
*** ***
The lecture was well-received, with students clamoring for Professor Lu to stay longer and share more insights. Lu Zhengrong patiently answered their questions one by one before finally leaving under the arrangements of the organizers.
The event ended an hour later than planned, and it was already approaching evening. As Shen Kui stood up to leave, the corner of her blouse caught on a rough edge of the armrest, tearing a small hole. A faint sense of unease washed over her, but she quickly brushed it aside.
Under the assistant’s arrangements, Shen Kui smoothly reunited with Lu Zhengrong. As soon as they met, Lu Zhengrong apologized, “Sorry to keep you waiting so long. You must be hungry by now. Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
Shen Kui waved it off casually. “It’s fine, I’m not picky. Besides, I found your lecture quite interesting.”
Lu Zhengrong opened the car door and invited Shen Kui inside. “Physics is truly a fascinating subject. The more you study it, the more you realize that all the mysteries of the universe are contained within it.”
“I don’t understand it too deeply,” Shen Kui admitted, “but the concept of quantum entanglement you talked about today really intrigued me. If I understood correctly, in physics, quantum particles can interact and influence each other, right?”
“Exactly,” Lu Zhengrong replied. “Recent research has proven that quantum entanglement is an objective reality. No matter how far apart two or more particles are, they can share physical states. It’s truly remarkable. This discovery has overturned many of our previous understandings. To put it in somewhat philosophical terms, you could say: suddenly, we find that the end of science is theology.”
“The end of science is theology?” Shen Kui glanced at him with a hint of skepticism. “That doesn’t sound like something a renowned physicist like you would say.”
Lu Zhengrong chuckled. While waiting at a red light, he relaxed his hands on the steering wheel and turned to meet Shen Kui’s gaze. “Then what do you think I should say?”
His eyelashes were long, and his eyes were deep-set. When he looked at someone intently, it gave the illusion of profound affection.
“Hmm…” Shen Kui thought for a moment, then joked, “At the very least, you should give me a fifty-minute lecture on quantum mechanics, complete with a blackboard.”
Lu Zhengrong shook his head with a smile. “That’s a stereotype. Who told you that studying physics means you have to act like a stuffy academic?”
“Then how do you explain the phrase ‘the end of science is theology’?” Shen Kui asked seriously.
“You’ve probably heard of the famous thought experiment ‘Schrödinger’s Cat’, right?” Lu Zhengrong patiently explained. “Physicist Erwin Schrödinger placed his cat inside a sealed box, along with a small amount of radioactive material. Over time, there was a 50% chance the material would decay and release poison gas, killing the cat, and a 50% chance it wouldn’t, leaving the cat alive. (Note 1*) In this experiment, before the box is opened, the cat exists in a superposition of both alive and dead states. The act of observation collapses these two possibilities into a single outcome.”
Shen Kui pondered this. “So, you’re saying that human observation determines whether the cat lives or dies?”
“From an idealist perspective, you could interpret it as human subjective will deciding the cat’s fate. But from a physics standpoint, it’s the act of observation itself that collapses the two potential variables into one result.” Lu Zhengrong continued, “Imagine that in the vast universe, there might exist one or more parallel worlds similar to the one you’re in now. Each independent world has its own timeline. In World A, you might be a newborn baby, while in World B, you’re already an elderly person on the verge of death. Each world evolves differently along its timeline, producing distinct outcomes. In other words, you are the cat in the box—alive or dead, young or old—all states exist simultaneously. Your life takes on different forms in each timeline.”
“Life takes on different forms in each timeline.”
Shen Kui unconsciously repeated the phrase. For some reason, it felt like a heavy blow striking her soul. She felt as though she understood something. But the fleeting thought vanished too quickly for her to grasp.
She pressed urgently, “Then how can I determine which version of me in which timeline is the real one?”
Lu Zhengrong gave her a meaningful look and uttered a chilling statement: “Have you ever considered that the world you’re living in… might be fake?”
The words sent a shiver down Shen Kui’s spine. Her scalp tingled, and she reflexively straightened up. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t rush. I’ll explain it slowly over dinner.” Lu Zhengrong gestured ahead with his chin. “The road conditions are quite complicated. For your safety, I need to focus on driving.”
Shen Kui glanced at the wide, unobstructed road ahead, momentarily unsure whether to call out his unconvincing excuse.
*** ***
Half an hour later, inside an elegantly decorated Chinese restaurant, Shen Kui and Lu Zhengrong sat facing each other. A table full of dishes emitted tempting aromas, but Shen Kui had no appetite.
As soon as the last dish was served, Shen Kui couldn’t help but steer the conversation back. “I still don’t understand what you meant earlier.”
Lu Zhengrong slid a plate of steamed sea bass toward her and smiled. “You really are impatient. Try this. It’s delicious. I used to order this dish every time I came here before I went abroad.”
“I’m just curious, what made you say something like that?” Shen Kui found an excuse for her unusual behavior. “After all, shouldn’t those who study physics be very rigorous? Why do your views seem so idealistic?”
Lu Zhengrong didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked, “What about you? Are you an idealist or a materialist?”
Shen Kui said tactfully, “I trust my own judgment.”
“Have you ever noticed that occasionally, some phenomena that current science can’t explain appear around you?” Lu Zhengrong said casually, as if the question were as natural as eating or drinking.
Shen Kui unconsciously tightened her grip on the chopsticks. She forced herself to relax as much as possible, trying not to show it too obviously. She paused for a moment, gathered her thoughts, and slowly said, “I think it’s inevitable that some things in life are beyond my understanding at this stage. But perhaps it’s not because these things themselves can’t be understood, but because my current knowledge isn’t sufficient to comprehend them.”
“You’re very rational,” Lu Zhengrong said approvingly. “You’ve been rational beyond your peers since you were young.”
He didn’t keep Shen Kui in suspense any longer and slowly explained, “Why I said that brings us back to the question we discussed in the car earlier, assuming that in different timelines, different versions of you exist. For example, two forms of you exist simultaneously in the universe: Shen Kui A and Shen Kui B. They each live, age, and die in different timelines. So, from a macroscopic perspective, which one is the real you? Or rather, how do we locate your true state across multiple timelines? It’s like Schrödinger’s cat. Alive or dead, how should we define it?”
Shen Kui took a moment to digest his words. Lu Zhengrong didn’t rush her. After a while, Shen Kui put down her chopsticks and slowly said, “It’s observation.”
“Exactly,” Lu Zhengrong said with a smile. “You’re so clever to have thought of it right away.”
“Assuming two or more versions of Shen Kui exist in the universe, only the one being observed becomes the final form,” Shen Kui suddenly understood. “That’s why you said my world might be false. Because I might not be the one being observed. The timeline I’m in is just one of the many possible branches that exist in the universe.”
“Maybe there are also Shen Kui C, Shen Kui D, Shen Kui E… We all exist under the same universe, each evolving in our own way.” Shen Kui felt her mind opening up. But this new, uncharted world of thought frightened her. “I still have one more question.”
Lu Zhengrong looked at her quietly, his gaze filled with encouragement.
Shen Kui fell silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and asked word by word, “Since every ‘me’ in the universe is an object of observation, then… what is observing us?”
Lu Zhengrong didn’t speak. He slowly raised his hand and made a “shh” gesture.
A faint smile remained on his face as he looked at Shen Kui with steady, unwavering eyes. But in that instant, the message he conveyed struck Shen Kui like a bolt of lightning, leaving her stunned in place.
Even though she had long harbored suspicions, having the truth so abruptly laid bare by Lu Zhengrong still felt like being plunged into an icy abyss.
She could struggle against and overcome tangible difficulties in reality, but… if it was “that kind of power”, could she truly prevail?
“We were just talking about physics, but you seem quite startled. What did you think of?” Lu Zhengrong said casually, as if nothing had happened. “I was just joking earlier. Please don’t overthink it.”
“Let’s eat first. We’ve been talking so much that the food is almost cold.” He gestured to the dishes in front of Shen Kui. “These are all quite delicious. You should try them.”
Shen Kui picked up a few bites without tasting them, her mind still reeling from Lu Zhengrong’s words. The new perspective he offered made her reconsider many past events. A terrifying hypothesis began to take shape in her mind.
She ate mechanically, her thoughts racing. Lu Zhengrong seemed to notice her distraction and tactfully remained silent.
After a long while, Shen Kui set down her chopsticks, sighed as if she had made a decision, and said solemnly, “There’s something I’d like to ask you about.”
*** ***
By the time she returned home, it was already past midnight. Shen Kui took a quick shower and glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. Exhausted, she sat on the edge of her bed, drying her damp hair while replaying the details of her interaction with Lu Zhengrong.
Even though she still had no memory of this person, the more time she spent with him, the more she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
This strange familiarity made Shen Kui deeply uncomfortable. She felt that there was some crucial piece of information she couldn’t yet grasp. A missing puzzle piece that left her restless and uneasy, yet she had no idea where to begin searching for it.
Through repeated discussions, Lu Zhengrong’s ideas had gradually sunk in. Shen Kui reexamined her recent experiences. Though she remained a staunch materialist, she couldn’t help but try to understand everything from another angle.
Lu Zhengrong’s concept of “Shen Kui A and Shen Kui B” strangely overlapped with a casual joke Ji Xun had once made. This led Shen Kui to wonder: if she followed this theory, could the woman in the photo who looked exactly like her be another “quantum” from a parallel universe that hadn’t been anchored?
In this vast cosmos, how many others like her existed, living similar yet distinct lives across different timelines?
With this thought, she pulled out the video recorder and pulled up the surveillance footage from a few days earlier.
Before Tian Ke’s incident, Shen Kui had noticed a brief moment of distortion in the footage. At the time, she hadn’t had the chance to investigate further, as Tian Ke’s strange behavior had immediately captured her full attention.
She hadn’t forgotten about that anomaly. Though Tian Ke had repeatedly urged her not to dig into the truth behind the 3 a.m. phenomenon, Shen Kui was stubborn by nature. She had her own judgment and respected Tian Ke, but she wouldn’t halt her actions simply because of someone else’s request. Still, out of consideration for Tian Ke’s warning, she didn’t escalate the matter. Instead, she simply set up a few more devices before bed to observe any changes during that time.
Due to limited equipment, including Tian Ke’s phone, Shen Kui only had three devices that could be used for recording. Last night, she placed them in three different corners of the room, and these three devices faithfully captured everything that happened in the room after she fell asleep.
She stared at the video recorder in her hand, feeling as if she had returned to that afternoon not long ago.
This time… what would she see?
*** ***
Shen Kui fast-forwarded the footage to 2:50 a.m. In the video, she was already deep asleep.
Shen Kui had always been a good sleeper. She fell asleep quickly, slept soundly, and her breathing was so light it was almost imperceptible. Tian Ke had once lived with her for a while and often joked that when she woke up groggily in the middle of the night, she thought there was a corpse lying beside her. It was easy to imagine how quiet Shen Kui was when she slept.
But perhaps due to the recent series of frights, the Shen Kui in the recording was clearly not sleeping peacefully.
She watched as her on-screen self tossed and turned from side to side, her hand resting on the pillow, twitching occasionally. The twitching was strange. It didn’t seem like a natural bodily tremor but rather… as if someone was pulling a thin string from above, tugging at her from time to time.
This thought sent a chill down her spine. She focused intently on the screen as her on-screen self turned over once more. But just as her body was halfway through the turn, it seemed to encounter an inexplicable resistance, pausing for a moment mid-motion!
Shen Kui’s breathing quickened. She zoomed in on the footage and replayed that segment. This time, she saw it clearly:
At the exact moment she turned, an indentation suddenly appeared on the blanket covering her, as if an invisible wall had materialized in the empty space ahead, briefly halting her movement.
But it lasted only an instant. The next moment, the footage returned to normal, as if nothing had happened, and she completed the turn.
What was this…
If her earlier conversation with Lu Zhengrong had only given her a vague inkling of something, this scene completely shattered Shen Kui’s previous understanding of reality!
Holding her breath, she continued watching. The time soon jumped to 2:59 a.m. Just as it turned to 3:00 a.m., the footage distorted abruptly, exactly as Shen Kui had anticipated!
For a moment, the image seemed to be interfered with by an unstable signal. After a brief distortion, it quickly returned to normal, eerily similar to the earlier anomaly.
Shen Kui didn’t jump to conclusions. She quickly switched devices, checking the footage recorded by her own phone and Tian Ke’s.
Indeed…
Though the angles differed, the content captured by all three devices was identical. Whether it was the unnatural phenomena occurring around her or the distortion at exactly 3:00 a.m., everything was exactly the same.
This revelation was almost too much for Shen Kui to bear. She put down her phone and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
The icy water cleared her mind.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror—her pale, gaunt face etched with fear of the unknown, her long, clear phoenix eyes filled with a confusion she had never felt before.
“Who… am I, really?” Shen Kui murmured unconsciously.
She thought of the last question she had asked Lu Zhengrong before the meal ended.
After careful consideration, she decided to test Lu Zhengrong’s attitude with the symbol of the Ouroboros.
In her eyes, this person held too many uncertainties and mysteries. She needed a breakthrough to glimpse his secrets.
She showed the Ouroboros symbol to Lu Zhengrong. His expression remained calm, showing no signs of abnormality. Upon seeing the emblem, he almost immediately said, “This is the symbol of a small, obscure Western sect. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve seen it in many places,” Shen Kui replied vaguely.
“This sect advocates the ‘Theory of Timelessness’. They believe that humans belong to a higher dimension, where time imposes no constraints. Life is an ever-flowing river. You can choose to step into it at any stage and withdraw at any moment.” Lu Zhengrong said calmly, “This actually bears some resemblance to what we were discussing earlier, except one deals with different versions of you across timelines, while the other deals with different versions of you across spaces.”
Lu Zhengrong looked at her and posed a peculiar question: “If it were you, which version of yourself would you choose to become?”
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152