“I don’t need to become anyone else. I am myself.”
Shen Kui gazed at her reflection in the mirror, repeating the words she had spoken to Lu Zhengrong earlier, syllable by syllable.
This statement seemed to infuse her with an endless stream of strength. As she looked at the person in the mirror, her eyes gradually brightened, and a renewed sparkle returned to her clear gaze.
Yes, no matter how many overlapping existences there might be in this vast universe, the life that belonged solely to her could never be replicated or replaced.
The soul that had once shone brightly in the long river of her life would not vanish due to changes in time or space.
Shen Kui gave herself a powerful boost of motivation, feeling invigorated as she continued reviewing the footage.
She imported all the content captured by the three devices into her computer, isolating the abnormal segments and comparing the footage from different angles.
After repeated observation and comparison, Shen Kui realized that the anomalies recorded in these videos all followed a startling pattern without exception:
She discovered that as time approached the special threshold of 3 a.m., the abnormal phenomena occurring around her became increasingly frequent. At first, they might have been just minor, unnoticeable details. But as the moment drew nearer, the footage gradually began to show varying degrees of interference. Then, precisely at 3 a.m., the images from all three devices distorted simultaneously, as if a giant hand had crushed that space in an instant.
In the very next second, everything returned to normal.
In the footage, Shen Kui slept peacefully, as if nothing had ever happened.
This stark contrast sent chills down Shen Kui’s spine. An intuition told her that this was likely the truth Tian Ke had desperately tried to prevent her from discovering!
But… why?
Why keep it from her?
Even if she knew about such anomalies, given her current abilities, she seemed powerless to stop these changes from occurring. So why would Tian Ke go to such lengths to keep her from uncovering the truth behind it all?
What else was hidden behind this abnormal time point?
Shen Kui carefully recalled everything related to 3 a.m. From the strange noises half a month ago, to Lu Ting’s death, to the taxi accident… and then to Tian Ke’s intervention, and Tian Ke’s death.
Wait!
Shen Kui felt something flash through her mind. She abruptly stood up, hurried to the door, then quickly turned back. She realized she was on the verge of grasping the key, but the crucial point remained just out of reach. This feeling of being so close yet unable to break through was like scratching an itch through a boot. It’s utterly frustrating.
Just then, her gaze fell upon the pure black business card on the coffee table.
It was Lu Zhengrong’s card.
After dinner, he had proactively added her on WeChat and expressed undisguised anticipation for their next meeting.
Lu Zhengrong…
Shen Kui’s thoughts drifted for a brief moment, but she quickly forced herself to refocus. Yet, at that very instant, the scene from dinner abruptly resurfaced in her mind:
Under the dim, warm light, Lu Zhengrong’s handsome face wore a meaningful expression as he slowly raised his hand and made a “shh” gesture.
Shen Kui shivered involuntarily: Could it be…?
A terrifying conjecture gradually began to take shape in her mind.
She recalled the words Tian Ke had spoken by her bedside the night she woke from her coma after the taxi accident…
Why had she been jolted awake at three in the morning for half a month without encountering any accidents?
Why had mishaps occurred on two consecutive nights as soon as she began her investigation?
Why had the strange phenomena abruptly vanished after she suddenly fell into a coma?
Could the source of it all… be herself?
Just as Lu Zhengrong had mentioned the concept of an observer, if applied to this situation, wasn’t Shen Kui herself the hidden observer regarding all the anomalies at three in the morning?
Shen Kui suddenly understood. No wonder Tian Ke had desperately tried to stop her from probing further. The deeper her “observation” went, the greater the impact on that moment in time would likely become.
If she were allowed to continue unchecked, who knew what might happen?
Shen Kui thought of Lu Ting’s death, of the taxi accident…
Had these events truly occurred because of her?
Shen Kui dared not dwell on it.
*** ***
Early the next morning, Shen Kui hurried out to take the subway to work.
Line 2 was always packed. During the morning rush, Shen Kui would simply stand by the platform door, and the dense crowd would surge in like sardines. Mingling among them, she drifted like a jellyfish, effortlessly flowing into the carriage without even needing to exert herself.
With two large dark circles under her eyes, she clung to a hanging strap held by three or four others, her gaze vacant. Like countless sleep-deprived workers around her, her soul had long since drifted elsewhere.
The conclusion she had reached the night before had shaken her deeply. Although it couldn’t yet be confirmed, the mere speculation had effectively curbed her desire to continue investigating the secrets of 3 a.m.
Realizing this, she had gone to bed early, forcing herself to fall asleep before three. But perhaps due to pre-sleep anxiety, a night of nightmares left her more exhausted than if she had pulled an all-nighter.
She arrived at the company at 8:30 a.m., grabbing a simple breakfast downstairs. On her way up, she ran into several colleagues. Shen Kui was highly capable at work and had always maintained good relationships in the office. Greeting colleagues as she went, she had just stepped through the company doors when a sugary “Good morning!” made her take half a step back.
She looked closely. It was the new receptionist, a woman in her early twenties, young and delicate. Perhaps it was her first day on the job, as her enthusiasm seemed a bit over the top.
Shen Kui offered a friendly smile in response to the greeting.
The receptionist immediately bowed at a ninety-degree angle. Shen Kui waved awkwardly, signaling it wasn’t necessary, then quickly turned and walked away.
She first swung by the legal department’s office. The colleague she was looking for still hadn’t arrived. Someone noticed her lingering there for two days and asked, “Xiao Shen, who are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for Sister Juan. I’ve been studying photography lately and wanted to get advice,” Shen Kui replied naturally.
“She’s on annual leave. She won’t be back until next week. If it’s not urgent, you can wait till she returns,” the colleague answered.
Shen Kui said amiably, “Alright, we’ll see.”
She returned to her workstation, pulled out her phone, and opened the chat window with Ji Xun.
After speaking with her boss yesterday, Shen Kui was almost certain that he was somehow connected to the problems they were currently facing. She had shared this lead with Ji Xun, hoping he might find a way to gather some information from the outside.
Ji Xun’s father was one of City A’s prominent entrepreneurs, well-known locally. Although Ji Xun rarely brought him up, he had to admit that in certain situations, his father’s influence could be useful. Even though Ji Xun’s father was currently abroad, limiting their ability to leverage his connections, it was still an option worth considering.
After a moment of thought, she sent Ji Xun a message, asking about his progress.
A full day had passed, so Ji Xun’s investigation into 412L must have yielded some results by now, Shen Kui mused.
Ji Xun’s reply came quickly. He first scolded Shen Kui for disappearing for an entire day, then went on at length about how much effort he had put into uncovering the details about Sanjiang Law Firm.
According to the information Ji Xun had gathered, the man they had met that day was named Qiao Yu, one of the partners at Sanjiang Law Firm. Qiao Yu had been living in City B for years but had recently returned to City A for work. His social connections were simple, and his family background matched what he had shared during their meeting. Barring any surprises, he was likely one of the survivors of the incident back then.
If his identity was genuine, then what was the meaning behind his reaction upon seeing Shen Kui?
And the story Qiao Yu had told… what deeper message was hidden within it?
As Shen Kui was lost in thought, a new colleague from the front desk approached her.
With a shy smile, the colleague took out an envelope and handed it to Shen Kui. “Sister Shen Kui, you are Shen Kui, right? This… seems to belong to you.”
“What is this?” Shen Kui asked, puzzled as she took the envelope. It was thin, with no name written on it. She examined it from all angles but couldn’t see any connection to herself. “How do you know this is mine?” she asked, confused.
“I found it in the front desk drawer. It was probably left by a previous colleague. You’ll understand once you open it,” the new colleague said nervously.
Shen Kui opened the envelope. Inside was a photograph.
Slowly, she pulled the photo out.
With just one glance, Shen Kui understood why the colleague had said it belonged to her. Because it was the group photo of the seven people from the forum!
Shen Kui abruptly stood up, her voice urgent. “You said you found it where?”
“I… I found it in the front desk drawer.”
“Please take me to see it,” Shen Kui said, her expression darkening almost to the point of dripping with intensity. She never expected that just as she was about to put the matter of Lu Ting behind her, such a clue would resurface so unexpectedly!
The front desk girl had no idea what had suddenly agitated Shen Kui, but cautiously led her to the front desk cabinet. “It was here. Today was my first day, and I wanted to organize things a bit. That’s when I found this photo in the drawer.”
Shen Kui nodded. “Can I take a look?”
“Of course, go ahead,” the front desk girl quickly agreed, stepping aside to make room.
Shen Kui quickly rummaged through each drawer but found no other related items. The appearance of this photo seemed like an accident. Aside from that, Shen Kui couldn’t detect any other clues.
Standing still in contemplation, Shen Kui’s series of reactions seemed to hint at something to the receptionist, who cautiously suggested, “Um, Sister Shen Kui, when I came in today, they also gave me a key to the changing room. I haven’t gone in yet. Would you like to check it out?”
Due to different job functions, the receptionist needed to wear formal attire for work. In the past, Lu Ting had converted a storage room into a changing room, which only she used. Not many people in the company knew about it, and Shen Kui was hearing about this changing room for the first time.
The receptionist led Shen Kui to the changing room and unlocked the door with the key.
Inside was an extremely small space, only three to four square meters. On the left was a row of floor-to-ceiling cabinets, while on the right wall, a horizontal rod was nailed, hanging a few pieces of clothing. Below it were several pairs of high heels, seemingly left behind by Lu Ting.
Shen Kui glanced around and fixed her gaze on the row of cabinets on the left.
For some reason, a strange feeling suddenly welled up inside her.
As if guided by an unseen force, she reached out and gently opened the cabinet door. Inside, the inner panel of the door was densely covered with photos. The people in the photos, standing or sitting in various poses, were without exception all Shen Kui herself!
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152