This isn’t about the small cake. Song Qinglan asked something again, but Ji Yushi didn’t hear clearly: “Huh?”

Song Qinglan asked, “How does it taste?”

He looked intently at Ji Yushi’s face, still with that relaxed tone, and said, “You’ve been staring at it for so long without taking a bite. Is it too bad to eat? Where did it come from?”

Last time Ji Yushi returned to this day, he didn’t have any money, and due to equipment limitations, he couldn’t use mobile payments.

So, Song Qinglan asked this question.

“The cake shop owner gave it to me,” Ji Yushi replied, “… It’s very tasty.”

At least, it tasted exactly like he remembered.

“As soon as I take my eyes off you, someone gives you things.” Song Qinglan clicked his tongue, “Looks like I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Ji Yushi’s thoughts followed Song Qinglan’s words. These offhand comments helped ease his chaotic emotions and brought him back to reality, making his mind clear again: “The shop owner is thirty years older than me.” He leaned against the wall and replied to Song Qinglan, “I used to visit her shop often when I was a kid. She’s very nice.”

Song Qinglan smiled slightly.

In the misty rain, Ji Yushi’s voice seemed to become a bit hazy as well.

He continued, “On the day of the incident, I also bought a cake from her after school.”

Being back on that day many years ago, the memories felt distant, even though Ji Yushi still remembered every detail of what happened.

“I bought four cakes. If he worked late, I wouldn’t go hungry. When he returned late, he would usually bring back food from a restaurant he frequented, sometimes with small cards from the restaurant that had a perfume scent. The restaurant’s female owner wanted to pursue him, but he didn’t realize it. I later thought if I had warned him earlier, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe, on that day, something different could have happened.”

There is no “if” in the world; they both understood that.

But Song Qinglan didn’t refute or try to comfort him.

This day was destined to belong to Ji Yushi, to Sheng Han.

They stood under the eaves for a while, and more people started passing by. Occasionally, passersby glanced at them—mostly because Song Qinglan was so tall, and the two of them standing so close together attracted attention. Fortunately, most people were either rushing to work or to the morning market, so they didn’t pay too much attention to them, and they didn’t adjust their posture.

About ten minutes passed.

Song Qinglan glanced outside from the corner of the wall.

He saw Ji Yushi from that previous visit still sitting on the bench, still staring blankly at the small cake.

“How long did you sit there?” Song Qinglan asked, “When did you leave?”

“I left at 7:44,” Ji Yushi remembered clearly.

The incident happened around 7:50. Last time, he made up his mind and left abruptly when the time came.

Song Qinglan looked at his communicator, which showed [07:16:32].

There were still about 30 minutes left. It matched what Ji Yushi had told him when he sneaked back last time—Ji Yushi spent this opportunity lost in thought.

“What’s wrong?” Ji Yushi asked nervously.

Song Qinglan was about to answer but then paused.

Just ten meters away, the Ji Yushi dressed in black combat gear habitually pulled out a game console from his pocket, and a piece of paper slipped out with his movement, shining gold, fluttering to the ground.

It was a piece of golden foil paper.

The kind used to wrap chocolate.

Ji Yushi picked it up and looked down, his expression unclear.

Back in Rubik’s Cube, Song Qinglan had secretly given him a piece of chocolate, something only the two of them knew.

Seeing this, Song Qinglan’s heart was struck heavily, as if someone had taken a stick and smashed it against his chest. He abruptly turned his gaze away, pressing Ji Yushi against the wall to stop him from peeking out.

People came and went.

Passersby glanced at them again.

“People are watching us,” Ji Yushi whispered.

“I know.” Song Qinglan’s grip was strong, making Ji Yushi’s shoulder hurt slightly. He spoke in a low, restrained voice, “Or else I…”

Because they were so close, his words came out softly, their warm breaths brushing each other’s faces, adding a touch of ambiguity that wasn’t usually there.

Their expressions were different from usual.

But in each other’s eyes, they could clearly see the reflection of the other.

Song Qinglan’s dark eyes were like a flickering flame, giving Ji Yushi the illusion that he was about to be burned. He didn’t quite understand why the other was acting this way—he had never seen such intense emotion in Song Qinglan’s eyes before. It was as if, if he let go, the other would disappear.

Fortunately, after three or four seconds, Song Qinglan slowly loosened his grip.

He did nothing, only lowered his head and said, “I’m suddenly really grateful I gave you that chocolate.”

Ji Yushi: “?”

The timing and place were all wrong—this wasn’t the time to talk about such things.

So, Song Qinglan just smiled lightly and changed the subject, reporting the situation to Ji Yushi: “Now, the other ‘you’ has started playing Tetris.”

Of course, Ji Yushi knew what the other self, ten meters away, was doing.

Song Qinglan asked, “If we pass by now, will the other ‘you’ notice us?”

The bench the other Ji Yushi was sitting on was on the main path to the community.

Song Qinglan wasn’t sure if this was the right time to take action, or if they should wait for the other Ji Yushi to leave the bench instead of entering the community. Because if they acted quickly, they could still catch the moment when Xiao Sheng Han encountered the killer entering the community.

As long as they could get the perfect position—the bench—they would be able to see the face of the killer passing by.

“Probably not,” Ji Yushi said, “In my memory, last time, ‘I’ didn’t see two suspicious, secretly gay-looking people.”

Song Qinglan: “…”

It was the first time he heard someone describe himself and his boyfriend like that.

But it was spot on.

Ji Yushi had done so many recording missions, some of which required multiple attempts before succeeding. He was used to the idea of having multiple versions of himself existing at the same time, but this was the first time he was in a situation where he couldn’t be seen by another version of himself.

Any mistake could make the past self change his mind, even if the chance was small, they couldn’t take the risk.

“But we can still wait,” Ji Yushi checked the time, sharing the same thought as Song Qinglan, “The killer will pass by here sooner or later, and it’s not too late to move after the other ‘me’ leaves.”

[07:44:12]

The Ji Yushi who came from the end of the Rubik’s Cube mission left the bench.

The black combat gear highlighted his thin, fragile frame as he disappeared into the light rain at the end of the street.

The two hiding people stepped out from the corner of the street and walked along the eaves to the bench.

The bench stood under the wooden fence by the roadside. In spring, the lush yellow wood fragrance grew thick, forming a small shaded and rain-sheltered world. It seemed to still hold the warmth left by the other Ji Yushi.

On the bench was a small cake.

Its owner had left too despondently, leaving it behind.

Ji Yushi picked it up, walked a couple of steps, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Who would have thought he would be cleaning up wet trash for himself from a few days ago?

The main gate of the community opened onto a big road, which was a main thoroughfare.

They stood out even more here.

Ji Yushi sat back down on the bench, while Song Qinglan stood a bit further away on the other side, looking like strangers who happened to be there to avoid the rain.

They tacitly remained silent.

Both kept an eye on the time as it ticked closer.

[07:49:45]

Five minutes passed.

Everything on the main road remained normal—no suspicious individuals.

Ji Yushi started to feel uneasy.

Song Qinglan leaned against the wooden post, twirling a piece of yellow wood incense leaf in his hand, silently observing the surroundings.

[07:51:45]

“What if he was already in the community, not entering it now?” Ji Yushi suddenly stood up, ignoring everything else, his expression anxious, “I didn’t check the exact time back then. I’m not sure what time it really was, but ‘I’ should be coming out soon. The first class starts at 8:15.”

He was talking about the other him, who was on his way to school.

Eight-year-old Xiao Sheng Han.

If they waited any longer, they might miss the crucial moment.

Song Qinglan realized this too: “Let’s go in together.”

Ji Yushi’s lips had lost their color.

On closer inspection, he was trembling slightly.

Song Qinglan walked over, grabbed his shoulder, and quickly said, “Don’t worry, even if we miss the key moment, we can still see the killer after the crime!”

Ji Yushi understood that.

None of this could change anything; his father’s death was already a fact. Whether he saw the killer before or after the crime wouldn’t make any difference to him closing the case when he returned.

But, even knowing this, he couldn’t just stand by and watch his father die.

It felt like… just by seeing the killer in advance, he could stop it all.

It was a primal instinct.

This thought was dangerous.

The rain was getting heavier.

They were both soaked and hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Song Qinglan quickly pulled up Ji Yushi’s hood, placing it on his head to shield him from the rain.

Song Qinglan did this carefully, and after he was done, he kissed Ji Yushi on the forehead and hugged him tightly: “Don’t be afraid. We’re together.”

Ji Yushi: “Mm.”

They dashed into the rain together.

After a few steps, Ji Yushi suddenly stopped, his face turning pale: “Song Qinglan…”

In the rain, Song Qinglan’s nose was covered in droplets: “What?”

Ji Yushi was soaked.

His previously outdated rubber pink hoodie had darkened significantly, almost turning purple at first glance.

His unremarkable simulated face was partially covered by the hood, raindrops falling on his eyebrows and eyelashes, making his brows and eyes appear jet-black, his whole being pale as paper.

“I figured it out,” he said, “I…”

Before Song Qinglan could ask, he clenched his fist, his nails digging painfully into his skin, and said word by word, “I need to go in alone.”

Song Qinglan instinctively felt something was wrong and sternly refused: “No.”

Ji Yushi didn’t speak.

Song Qinglan wiped away the tears that had unknowingly fallen from Ji Yushi’s face, his thumb brushing across the long, thick eyelashes, and said to him amidst the rain, “I’m your guardian this time. If you go in alone, I can’t guarantee what will happen.”

Ji Yushi looked up at him, his gaze shocking: “It has already happened.”

Song Qinglan felt a chill: “What has already happened?”

“No time!!” Ji Yushi was trembling all over, clutching his clothes so tightly his knuckles turned white. He gritted his teeth, “I need to verify it! You have to let me go in alone! To do what needs to be done at the right time, don’t you remember?!”

To do what needs to be done at the right time.

Song Qinglan released him.

His heart trembled violently.

Ji Yushi also loosened his grip, turned around, and entered the community.

The plants were lush, everything as it was.

Having returned in countless dreams, this time felt more real than ever.

Step by step, he ascended the stairs like a walking corpse. The recently cleaned advertisements from the property management were posted everywhere.

Step by step, the corridor lights flickered on.

He stepped over the nine stairs and arrived at the corner of the staircase.

In front of him was a child in a yellow raincoat, carrying a backpack. The child looked a bit cute, holding onto the straps of the backpack.

He stopped and looked at the child.

The child also looked up at him.

Those eyes were clear and innocent.

Fate is a circle.

They brushed past each other.