Chapter 3

When faced with an impending crisis or change, going to pray to the Buddha seems a bit like grasping at straws.

However, Qingchen felt that this supernatural phenomenon on his arm should be handled by a supernatural being.

For Qingchen, praying wouldn't hurt him.

He liked to prepare in advance, not leaving any room for regret.

It was 9:30 PM.

Qingchen sat on the bed and glanced down at his phone. The only light in the bedroom was the faint glow from his phone, and the only message in WeChat was a brief note from his desk mate, Nan Gengchen. No one else had sent him any messages.

His mother, Zhang Wanfang's WeChat profile picture was quiet, which made Qingchen feel a bit disappointed.

Of course, it was just a bit.

He didn't know what he was expecting.

Actually, he didn't blame his mother.

His father's gambling had sold off multiple properties, and he had been violent and unfaithful. Qingchen didn't think his mother was wrong for initiating the divorce.

On the contrary, Qingchen, who had witnessed his father hitting his mother, was even happy about her choice.

Because it was the right thing to do.

On the eve of his parents' divorce, his grandmother had advised his mother not to divorce: "You're a woman with a teenage son. How will you form a new family? Who will marry you?"

Hearing all this, Qingchen chose to live with his father when his parents divorced.

He remembered the surprised looks on his parents' faces, but Qingchen knew it was the right choice.

Now that his mother had started a new life and formed a happy new family, Qingchen might feel a bit disappointed, but he was very careful not to disturb her.

Countdown: 2:31:12.

Qingchen suddenly thought of a question: If this were the last two and a half hours of his life, what should he do?

This question was both serious and romantic.

Because it was asking what you most wanted to do in your life but hadn't had the chance or the courage to do.

Unexpressed love, people you wanted to see but didn't, places you wanted to go but didn't, and words you wanted to say but didn't, all fell into the answer.

This question went straight to the heart.

Qingchen got up and put on his coat. Despite the limited time left on the countdown, he chose to go out again.

He pushed his old bicycle out of the house and rode it towards his destination.

The autumn night was a bit chilly, and the pedestrians on the road were gradually thinning out.

Qingchen's face was calm as he rode the bicycle, and the wind on the bridge blew his coat's sleeves backward.

He had many regrets and many things he was afraid to do in his life.

But tonight, he didn't need to be timid or fearful; he only needed courage.

At one moment, Qingchen thought that if he really were to die tonight, he should finish the most important things first. He had no time left.

He first went to the Peony Grand Hotel, then to the Luocheng Grand Hotel, and finally to the Luoyin residential area, but he didn't find the person he was looking for.

Qingchen rode his bicycle through the alleys, over the Qili River Bridge, and arrived at a residential building.

When he saw the familiar old second-hand motorcycle parked downstairs and heard the mahjong sounds from the second floor...

He then picked up his phone and dialed 110: "Hello, officer. I want to report a gambling den at Longteng Community, Building 17, Unit 2, Room 201 in JX District."

The police officer on the other end seemed to be stunned for two seconds before reacting: "Okay, we'll send officers right away."

Only then did Qingchen feel relieved, and he turned to ride his bicycle home.

His thoughts were clear.

When he got home, Qingchen looked at the white pattern on his arm, and the countdown read 1:02:21.

He began to re-evaluate his preparations.

Wait, should he wait for that moment at home?

Qingchen had once seen a horror movie where the protagonist encountered a ghost, and the ghost would find him every midnight at 12:00.

The protagonist would hide here and there, even in the deep mountains, but the ghost would always find him.

At that time, Qingchen thought, why didn't the protagonist go to a crowded place?

Although ghosts were powerful, people generally felt safer in crowded places.

For example, the protagonist could go to a nightclub and stay there. When the ghost came at midnight, the hundreds of people in the nightclub, dancing to the loud music, would make the ghost feel more afraid...

So, Qingchen began to think about whether he should also go to a crowded place.

Or, he could go directly to the White Horse Temple in Luocheng... after all, there were Buddhas there.

Not only Guanyin Bodhisattva, but also Manjushri Bodhisattva and Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.

It seemed very safe.

However, Qingchen ultimately chose to stay at home. He felt that when the countdown ended, it was more likely that zombies or something similar would appear.

If that were the case, going to a crowded place would be no different from seeking death. Besides, the Buddhas didn't seem to handle such matters.

Qingchen had already prepared supplies at home. If zombies did attack, he could hide and hold out for a while.

Countdown: 00:31:49.

In the last half hour, Qingchen turned on the desk lamp and quietly wrote a will, leaving it on the table.

If he died today, perhaps his family and friends would see his final words someday.

If he didn't die, his life might be a different story.

Countdown: 00:00:12.

After writing the will, Qingchen sat up straight, tightly gripping a bone knife in his right hand. His clear eyes narrowed.

The closer to the last moment, the calmer his emotions became.

It was like the moment before a tsunami engulfs an isolated island, the sea is still, and there are no undercurrents, leaving only deep thought and fierce courage!

10...

9...

8...

7...

6...

5...

4...

3...

2...

1.

No ghosts, no zombies, no disasters.

Qingchen quietly watched as time around him froze. The time on his phone seemed to be permanently stuck at 12:00:00.

The second hand on the wall clock suddenly stopped, and the light outside the window no longer flickered.

He stood up, and the frozen time seemed to shatter with his movement, as if the world around him was breaking like a mirror.

Qingchen held the bone knife and looked around. The desk was gone, the room was gone, and only darkness remained.

Then, he too was enveloped in darkness.

...

Time seemed to pass, but it also felt like just a moment. In that instant, Qingchen lost his sense of time.

In the darkness, the fragments of the world began to reassemble, forming a brand new world in an instant.

Qingchen lay on a narrow, hard bed in a completely unfamiliar environment, a place he had never been before.

He first looked at his palm, which was empty; the bone knife he had been holding was gone.

He then looked at his arm and was startled to see that the white pattern had changed.

"Return countdown: 48:00:00."

48 hours, or 2 days, Qingchen thought.

The next moment, the countdown ticked one second: Return countdown: 47:59:59.