Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Afternoon sunlight carried a lazy heat, dappling the asphalt with quivering bright spots. Cicadas screamed overhead; cheap perfume and fry-oil smoke braided in the air as laughing couples brushed past. Summer’s raw vitality throbbed around her.
Yun Xi drifted without purpose. She had escaped the suffocating apartment on the pretext of “buying supplies,” yet her feet were tugged by an invisible thread through familiar alleys until they stopped beneath a half-dead neon sign: ZHANWANG.
A thick stench—sweat, cigarettes (no-smoking signs ignored), thundering keyboards, game explosions, adolescent howls—swallowed her instantly.
A flashback: a sweltering night, the air-conditioner whining. In a greasy booth she—then Yun Xi the boy—and Wei Wu plus a couple of buddies hunched over glowing screens, towers pumping hot air. Fingers flew; an unlit cigarette dangled from her lips for cool points. Eyes sharp. “Old Wei! Rooftop right! Scope him!” She’d roared, slapping Wei Wu’s back. Victory banner, headphones hurled aside, cheap cola and sweat—shoulders slung together in wild, unfiltered joy. That had been Yun Xi’s happiness, loud and proud.
Her foot lifted to push open the heavy glass door.
It froze on the threshold.
The polished glass threw back her reflection: silver hair cascading like silk, profile too delicate for this world, deep-blue eyes lost. Expensive, minimalist casual wear sketched a slim curve. An elf who’d wandered into the wrong realm—separated by a sheet of glass from the testosterone, sweat, and swearing inside.
All men in there. Shirtless, cigarettes clamped between teeth, palms smacking keyboards, curses flying. What would happen if she entered? Curiosity? Inspection? Lewd jokes? She was no longer the Yun Xi who could sling an arm round a buddy and charge into battle. She was alien, outsider.
An icy clamp seized her heart. The lovely girl in the glass felt like mockery.
She snatched her gaze away, stepped back as if burned, spun, and fled. Heart frantic—not from running, but from bone-deep panic at being severed.
She ducked into the back-street she knew by heart. Char, cumin, chilli—smoky barbecue clouds rolled over her. Beneath the OLD ZHANG’S BBQ sign, Old Zhang’s bronze skin beaded with sweat as he flipped sizzling skewers.
Her pace slackened. Old Zhang had watched her and Wei Wu grow from punks to paycheck adults. Here they’d argued crimson-faced over ball games, wrestled jokingly for the last lamb kidney, got drunk and draped arms round each other, pouring out confusion and bravado about graduation and the future.
Zhang sensed eyes on him, glanced up. Murky, shrewd eyes narrowed through the smoke, landed on her face—scanning, puzzled, trying to place her.
A beat skipped. A shameful flicker of hope—does he see me? See a shadow of Yun Xi?
The next second his gaze slid over her silver hair, fine features, clothes that didn’t belong. Puzzlement gone, replaced by the polite distance reserved for a pretty stranger. He barked his standard line in her direction: “Miss, what’ll you have? My lamb skewers are the real deal!” Then he lowered his head, focused on the grill—she was just another customer.
Miss.
The word drove an icicle through the last ember of hope. Even Old Zhang—chronicler of their youth—failed to recognise her. Every trace of Yun Xi had been wiped clean.
Like a ghost she drifted into the quieter Community Park. Sunlight stabbed; she collapsed onto a shaded bench, desperate to escape the mute question—who are you?—in every pair of eyes.
Exhaustion and mental drain dragged her toward stupor. Back against cold slats, eyes shut, she tried to empty her mind. Instead she slid toward an abyss: Xinghui Amusement Park’s frozen laughter, shattered terror, the dissolving Cocoon of Termination—those Shadowmares, detritus of annihilated timelines. They were warped mirrors: wasn’t she, too, a fragment? Ripped from her orbit, anchor lost, future fogged—an existence adrift?
“Yes, perfect! Groom, look at your bride! More loving eyes!”
“Bride, gorgeous smile! Hold it! Picture the beautiful life you’ll build together!”
“That’s it! Hopeful—keep that feeling!”
Across the lawn a wedding-shoot crew bustled. Reflector boards hurled sunlight back. The bride, veiled in lace, beamed rose-bright, eyes sparkling with love and tomorrow. The groom’s gaze was tender, steady. Sunlight sketched a tableau labelled: HAPPINESS AHEAD.
“Beautiful life you’ll build together!”
“A feeling full of hope!”
The phrases were daggers dipped in poison, rammed into her unguarded heart.
A beautiful life? Hope?
Vicious curse. They detonated the powder keg inside her.
Her life? A “consultant” monitored by Dream Ring Tower (CAMCC)? The Time-Flower Witch who battled timeline-collapse Shadowmares? The babysitter-senior who looked after Milu? Shackles bolted on every side.
And Yun Xi’s life? The Yun Xi who’d planned with Wei Wu to save start-up cash, who’d drool over lamb skewers and football, who’d dreamed of marrying a loud girl who’d yell at the screen beside him, who’d joke half-drunk that their kids might get his eyes and Wei Wu’s nose?
All those ordinary, messy, human possibilities—gone.
The instant Meng Yun Xi’s godlike power crammed her into Yun Xi’s new skin, those futures were erased like pencil sketches under a brutal rubber. No ask, no choice—annihilated. Stripped of the basic right to map her own life.
Rage and grief, molten, burst the dam. She snapped her eyes open, glared at the bracelet on her wrist—Hengmeng Shiyuan.
Divine artifact? Freeze time? Erase nightmares? Protect existence?
What a joke.
It could rewrite timelines, guard cities, yet it couldn’t send her back to one ordinary afternoon. Couldn’t let her scream “NO!” at the being who twisted her fate. Her will, her dreams, her dignity—dust to be ground underfoot.
Sobs convulsed in her chest; vision blurred. She bit her lip until it bled, fighting the wail, only broken hiccups shaking her ribs. Tears—hot, heavy—struck the cold metal, spreading dark halos of despair. Bracelet chill against skin scalded by tears.
She hunched on the bench, a discarded statue in shadow, enduring the silent shredding of her soul. Sunlight, bridal laughter, bright futures—none of it hers. Her world: the icy bracelet and the erased past-and-future of Yun Xi.
When the tears dried, eyes raw, chest numb, she jerked her head up and scrubbed her face with savage sleeves, wiping every trace of weakness.
In her sapphire eyes vulnerability ebbed, leaving only storm-cold resolve.
Whoever stared back from mirrors—irrelevant.
Imposed duties—screw them.
Erased future—unretrievable.
But one question demanded an answer—now.
She needed an outlet, an explanation—even if it came from the presence she feared and loathed most.
Yun Xi stood, turned her back on the counterfeit happiness on the lawn, on the icy shackle. Spine straight, she strode toward the apartment, pace steady, almost fatalistic. Sunlight stretched her shadow long—past she couldn’t outrun, future she couldn’t see.