A brief silence.
Cheng Mengxue left Jiang Ran’s shoulder and sat up.
“It probably... would.”
She softly voiced the answer that Jiang Ran also thought was obvious.
He knew Qin Feng very well.
If their positions were reversed, if Jiang Ran were the one trying to bring back his father who had died ten years ago, Qin Feng would definitely agree.
Not only would he agree.
He would agree without the slightest hesitation.
Because that was the kind of person Qin Feng was—resolute, decisive, deeply loyal and righteous. That was also one of the things Jiang Ran admired about him.
However.
Jiang Ran did not think he was someone without loyalty or affection either.
He had simply always been very cautious.
Even if Qin Feng always said he was overly cautious.
His misgivings and worries were always greater than other people’s.
If Qin Feng’s father had not died ten years ago... but one month ago, or even ten months ago, he might have agreed.
Ten years.
That was truly too long.
Who could guarantee that the tornado of the butterfly effect would not blow toward him, toward Cheng Mengxue, toward Qin Feng?
“Xiaoxue, actually, there’s something I’ve never told you.”
Jiang Ran raised his head and looked at the small blackboard.
On it was still written the string of numbers 289269426494642, as well as the code deciphered with the nine-key input method—
[Don’t trust Ha]
“I’ve always felt that the final ‘Ha’...”
He said in a low voice:
“Is referring to Qin Feng.”
?
!
“Ah?”
Cheng Mengxue cried out in shock. She truly had never thought of this.
“Jiang Ran... wh-why would you think that?”
“I can’t really say.”
Jiang Ran shook his head.
“It’s just a kind of intuition. From the very beginning, when I saw that string of numbers, I felt it was reminding me, warning me about something.”
“Especially after seeing the four words ‘don’t trust,’ the first person I thought of was Qin Feng... I thought it was my future self sending me a text, warning me not to trust Qin Feng.”
“I know this kind of thought is wrong. How can I suspect my own friend? But this has always been my concern, and it’s also the reason I oppose bringing Qin Feng’s father back to life.”
...
After speaking his true feelings, Jiang Ran instead felt much lighter.
On one side was trust in his friend, and on the other was suspicion toward his friend. That was why he had never been able to make up his mind.
A long while later.
Cheng Mengxue looked at him.
“Can I say what I think?”
“Of course.”
“Jiang Ran.”
Cheng Mengxue took his hand.
“Do you think Qin Feng is hiding something from you?”
“No.”
Jiang Ran shook his head without hesitation.
Qin Feng had always said whatever was on his mind. He did not hide anything from him.
Including his desire to use the spacetime text message to bring his father back to life—strictly speaking, that could not be considered concealment either. On the contrary, when Jiang Ran asked him about his wish, he had said it outright. That was even more a kind of honesty.
Besides, it was perfectly normal for Qin Feng to have such a thought.
If it were any other boy, losing his father at a young age, suffering humiliation and bullying, and now having the ability to undo the tragedy and save his father... who would not think of that first?
“Then do you think Qin Feng has secretly done anything behind your back?” Cheng Mengxue asked again.
Jiang Ran shook his head.
“No.”
Everything Qin Feng did was open and aboveboard.
When modifying the positron cannon, he had explained every detail without holding anything back. And as for secretly doing something...
To put it bluntly.
If Qin Feng really wanted to do something in secret, it would be far too easy.
He was the one who had repaired the positron cannon. Before the knob control panel was installed, only he could control it.
The spare key to the club activity room was hidden under the flowerpot at the stairwell. That had always been the Film Club’s tradition, and they had no plans to move it.
The activity room’s fragile wooden door had always kept out gentlemen, not villains... it was a piece of junk that could be kicked open with one foot. The key was purely decorative.
So.
If Qin Feng really wanted to secretly start the positron cannon and send a text message to himself ten years ago, it would be far too easy.
Qin Feng could have completely bypassed the two of them and saved his father who had died ten years ago.
But he did not.
Instead, he handed the right to choose to the two of them, which was no different from handing it to Jiang Ran himself.
“Qin Feng trusts us a lot.”
Cheng Mengxue continued:
“And he also cherishes us a lot. He actually could have secretly sent a spacetime text message behind our backs, but he never did.”
“I know.”
Jiang Ran opened his eyes.
“But no matter what, I have to be responsible for the safety of you two.”
He stood up and repeated the same old refrain.
“You two have never actually experienced spacetime changes, nor have you felt a worldline transition... That kind of helplessness, passivity, and fear when facing the laws of spacetime—neither of you can understand it.”
“Every time the worldline changes, before I open my eyes, I feel afraid. I’m afraid I’ll never see you again, afraid you’ll be devoured by the spacetime butterfly effect.”
“I really don’t dare gamble! Ten years is truly too long!”
Cheng Mengxue also stood up, smiling faintly.
Then, with a pop, she pried open the skull of the rice-cooker Rhine Cat, took out the faintly blue, round and plump spacetime particle Rhine Cat from inside, and handed it over.
“What are you doing?”
Jiang Ran was a little bewildered.
“Here, I’m giving it to you for now.”
Cheng Mengxue stuffed the spacetime particle Rhine Cat into Jiang Ran’s hand.
“According to the backstory of the spacetime particle Rhine Cat... this is something that can bring miracles and strength.”
“You sound like you’re talking about a magical girl.”
“Hey, don’t interrupt me!”
She stroked the spacetime particle Rhine Cat’s fur, which was like an electric current, her expression gentle.
“Apparently, this is a symbol of courage and bonds. It represents the most sincere friendship and the utmost trust.”
“Boruto?”
“Are you going to let me talk or not!”
Cheng Mengxue punched him.
“In short!”
She said huffily:
“In short, just like Qin Feng, I trust you, believe in you, and will follow any decision you make!”
“Haven’t the two of us been like this since we were little? I’ve always been running along behind you. Wherever you go, I go.”
“So, no matter what choice you make... I will always be behind you.”
Cheng Mengxue blinked. Within her eyes, it seemed as if starlight flickered.
“I think Qin Feng should be the same.”
...
Two days later, the rooftop of the club activity building.
Creak—
Jiang Ran pushed open the iron door of the stairwell and looked at Qin Feng, who was gazing into the distance beneath the setting sun.
The scene was just like it had been a dozen days ago.
One person stood at the edge of the building; one person had just come out of the stairwell.
Only now, at this very moment, their positions had been reversed.
The setting sun draped Qin Feng’s shadow over Jiang Ran. He slowly walked forward.
“These past few days, I’ve thought about a lot.”
Jiang Ran spoke as he walked.
“The butterfly effect spanning as long as ten years is something we have no way of predicting.”
“And that mysterious string of numbers... Those inexplicable words it transformed into—we can’t completely ignore that kind of hint. We should—”
Qin Feng slowly turned around.
Facing those expectant yet flustered eyes, Jiang Ran’s words caught in his throat, and he could say nothing.
All his arguments were stuck in his throat.
They would not come out, and he could not swallow them down.
That was right.
Qin Feng was so smart.
Did he not understand these principles?
Did he not know these circumstances?
What need was there to say them aloud?
“Qin Feng.”
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
A gust of wind blew the cans on the rooftop into rolling. A plane drew a horizontal trail of cloud and smoke, cutting the sky in two.
Jiang Ran faced Qin Feng’s gradually dimming eyes beneath the fiery sunset clouds.
“[I’m sorry.]”
He said softly.
...
...
...
Qin Feng lowered his head.
Hands in his pockets, he walked over.
One step away, he placed his right hand on Jiang Ran’s shoulder.
“It’s all right.”
He smiled faintly.
“[I don’t blame you.]”