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Despite witnessing countless bloody scenes in his dreams, seeing a familiar person die in front of him—their lifeless body sprawled on the ground—was something Lin Xian could never get used to.

This was reality.

There were no resets or do-overs here. Once someone died, they wouldn’t be back the next day with a smile.

The man on the ground had just begun to see hope for his daughter’s awakening… but before he could enjoy any joy, he departed this world in sorrow.

At the hospital, Lin Xian and Zhao Ying Jun sat silently on a bench outside the emergency room, both frowning deeply.

Bang.

The door of the emergency room swung open, and a masked doctor in surgical scrubs emerged.

“Doctor, how is Professor Xu Yun?” Lin Xian and Zhao Ying Jun hurried over.

The doctor closed his eyes and shook his head. He then read from a report:

“The injuries were too severe. His skull shattered, his brain and chest cavity exposed, deep wounds all over, massive blood loss… By the time the ambulance got to him, he was already declared dead at the scene.” He handed over a form and looked at them. “Which one of you is family? I need a signature here.”

Lin Xian shook his head. “Doctor, neither of us is family. Professor Xu Yun’s parents died when he was young, his wife succumbed to an amniotic embolism, and his only relative, his daughter, has been in a vegetative state for many years at the affiliated hospital of Donghai University.”

“Then who are you?” the doctor inquired.

“I was Professor Xu’s student,” Lin Xian replied.

The doctor sighed. “A student’s signature won’t suffice. Contact the university and have someone in charge come over to sign.”

Half an hour later, the police arrived with the vice principal of Donghai University.

“What’s happening here?” The vice principal looked distraught, his hands trembling. The doctor led him away to complete various formalities.

Three policemen approached Lin Xian and Zhao Ying Jun, and the lead officer saluted them. “Hello, we need a brief statement to understand the situation.”

Following this, Zhao Ying Jun and Lin Xian recounted the events truthfully. Lin Xian emphasized the odd details:

“The taxi driver wore a mask, sunglasses, and a hat… it was very suspicious.”

“The right-side doors of the taxi wouldn’t open. Professor Xu Yun had to enter from the left, leading him into the middle of the road where a black Audi suddenly sped out and struck him… both drivers fled the scene.”

“I didn’t catch the Audi’s license plate, but the taxi’s plate ended in 76. Professor Xu was also brought to the banquet by that taxi; you can check the surveillance footage.”

Zhao Ying Jun confirmed Lin Xian’s account and provided additional details from the banquet. The police closed their notebooks and cautioned:

“Based on your statements, this doesn’t seem like a simple hit-and-run. But we need more evidence to support our investigation, and our final conclusions will depend on further inquiries. The results will be detailed in a police report.”

“Professor Xu Yun was a public figure, so we will prioritize this investigation. Here’s my contact information. If you recall anything else, please reach out.”

The police then left to speak with the hospital administrators.

A gurney covered with a white sheet was wheeled out of the emergency room, rolling down the corridor toward the morgue.

Seeing this, Lin Xian was overwhelmed by guilt:

Would he have come if I hadn’t personally invited Professor Xu to the celebration?

If I had insisted our company driver take him home, would he still be here?

Suppose I hadn’t helped and given him information from my dreams, allowing him to spend his life chasing breakthroughs. Would he have avoided this tragic end after his recent success?

Lin Xian’s face was a picture of distress. Zhao Ying Jun patted his shoulder, trying to comfort him:

“Lin Xian, don’t blame yourself. This wasn’t your fault.” She saw through his turmoil. “Even if you hadn’t gone, I would have invited him myself. Whatever the reason for his death, it’s not on you. No one wanted this to happen.”

She gestured to the parked Alphard minivan outside. “Come on, I’ll have the driver take you home.”

Lin Xian shook his head. “You go ahead, Ms. Zhao. I need to stay here a bit longer.”

Zhao Ying Jun sighed and left. “Take the day off, rest at home. I’ll handle things for Xu Yi.”

Her high heels clicked as she exited the hospital lobby, stepping into the parking lot and driving away.

A cold wind blew through the gap in the glass doors, dropping the temperature several degrees. Lin Xian didn’t feel the chill despite his lack of a coat. Perhaps his body and soul were already frozen.

He leaned against the hospital’s white wall, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the cold floor, staring blankly at the patterned tiles.

“Lin Xian, there you are!” The glass door opened again. Gao Yang hurried over, attempting to pull Lin Xian up. “What are you doing sitting here? Get up!”

But Lin Xian was immovable, like a dead fish. Gao Yang sighed and sat down next to him.

“Don’t be so sad, Lin Xian. You’re making me feel down too. Professor Xu Yun’s sudden death is a great loss. But accidents like this… no one can control them.”

“No…” Lin Xian shook his head. “This wasn’t an accident…”

Now, he finally understood.

Professor Xu Yun’s death was likely a consequence of his own actions—altering reality and rewriting the future.

Had he not interfered with the course of history, Professor Xu would have remained a ridiculed, mediocre “clown scientist,” unlikely to achieve anything significant. No one would have bothered to kill such an inconsequential man.

But with Lin Xian’s help, Professor Xu had completed the cryostasis fluid centuries ahead of its time, planning to make it freely available to the world. Under these circumstances, there were too many reasons and motives for someone to want him dead.

“This wasn’t an accident…” Lin Xian repeated, clutching his head in agony. “The real culprit behind Professor Xu’s death… it might be me!”