Prodigy’s Playground

Chapter 108 Truth and Falsehood

[July 21, 2025. Weather: clear.]

[Finally.

After waiting so long, the mission has finally arrived.

I have waited for far too long… I can barely hold on anymore…

I am willing to pay any price, as long as the end result is a good one.

This is the most important thing in my life.

And also the last thing in my life.

I must obey.

I must succeed.

I must… make up for the regret.I know very clearly that I am only a chess piece of the Mutual Aid Society, insignificant and expendable.

But I do it willingly, without complaint, even with gratitude.

After all.

My life, my past, my future—they all exist to serve this very moment.

It has been a long time since I last wrote in a diary.

During these final days, I should record a little more.

At least then something will secretly remain in this world, in case… someday… ah.

Forget it.

Let me bear this sin alone.

There is no one I can speak to. Writing it here is enough; putting it down feels better than keeping it locked inside my heart.

I’m sorry!

I’m sorry!

I’m sorry!

I know what I’m doing is wrong.

But…

I’m sorry.

I had no choice.]

“Ahhh!!!!”

At the entrance of the hotel, the moment several of the female classmates saw the girl’s face clearly, they covered their mouths and screamed at the same time, desperately hiding behind the homeroom teacher! The boys were no different—whatever drunken haze remained vanished instantly, their faces turning pale as they instinctively took a step back.

Thump!

Wang Hao stood there blankly, eyes fixed and unfocused. His legs suddenly gave way and he dropped straight to his knees, his kneecaps pressing down onto Jiang Ran’s sneakers.

But Jiang Ran had no time to care about that.

He held his breath, staring rigidly at the water-blue figure standing in the evening breeze.

That was…

A figure he had longed for day and night, a figure he had never forgotten for even a single moment.

That was…

The childhood friend he had known since they were little, the person who had spent most of her life beside him.

That was…

The girl who had been mercilessly erased by the butterfly effect within the vortex of the Worldline Transition—someone he had not seen for three entire months!

“X… Xiaoxue?”

Jiang Ran’s lips trembled slightly, unable to believe the scene before him was real.

Yet how could he possibly mistake that face?

Only this girl.

Only the girl he knew best in the entire world.

Only the girl who had been his neighbor since birth, who had grown up with him, who had never once been separated from him—from elementary school to middle school, from high school to university…

He would never mistake her.

[The same figure, the same hairstyle, the same face, the same eyes—even the curve of her collarbone and the lines at the corners of her eyes matched perfectly, down to the smallest detail.]

There was no doubt.

The girl standing before him was the childhood friend he had searched for endlessly, the one he had tried every possible way to pull back from the grave of the worldline.

Cheng Mengxue.

But the problem was—

On the current No. 1 worldline, Cheng Mengxue had clearly died.

Two years ago, in that car accident, all forty-one teachers and students present had witnessed it. Jiang Ran and Wang Hao had even visited the cemetery several times to sweep Cheng Mengxue’s grave.

How could she possibly be alive?

No wonder the girls were terrified, hiding behind the homeroom teacher with pale faces.

Jiang Ran himself felt his scalp go numb, goosebumps rising all over his body.

If the person standing there, “returned from the dead,” were anyone other than Cheng Mengxue, he probably would have reacted exactly like the girls.

Someone who had clearly died.

Cremated.

Buried.

A ghost?

A spirit?

Anyone would think the same.

But Jiang Ran was different.

He had experienced multiple worldline changes, and immediately thought of another possibility.

[Could it be that just now, at some unnoticed moment, the worldline had quietly shifted—quietly transitioned? That this was no longer Worldline No. 1, but a brand-new Worldline No. 2, or perhaps even a return to Worldline No. 0?]

That was the most reasonable explanation for what was happening.

But—

Clearly, that was not the case.

First of all, the familiar symptoms of a spacetime shift—ringing in his ears and overwhelming dizziness—had not appeared.

That was ironclad proof the worldline had not transitioned.

It had been verified countless times before. No matter what caused the worldline to jump, he would always experience a buzzing in his ears, a spinning sensation, dizziness lasting roughly two seconds.

Since none of those symptoms had occurred, the worldline had definitely not transitioned.

Second—and even more telling—

All the other classmates were shocked by Cheng Mengxue’s “return from the dead.”

That meant the worldline truly had not changed.

The fact that Cheng Mengxue had died in the car accident two years ago remained established history, something everyone present knew perfectly well.

So…

[Who exactly is the Cheng Mengxue standing before us?]

Or rather—

[Who is this girl who looks, sounds, and matches Cheng Mengxue in every possible detail?]

Contradiction.

Horror.

Resistance.

All these emotions and questions left Jiang Ran frozen in place, unable to take even a single step toward her.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the classmates erupted into chaos.

“My god!”

“X-Xiaoxue?!”

“A ghost!”

“How is that possible?!”

“You—you already…”

“Zhou Xiong is dead, and now Xiaoxue is alive again?!”

The classmates—boys and girls alike—were frantic, their eyes wide as they stared at Cheng Mengxue, who had appeared like a ghost.

“Ahaha…”

Cheng Mengxue scratched the back of her head awkwardly and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry about that. I guess I scared everyone.”

“I actually didn’t plan to appear like this… I was worried it would scare you all, which is why I didn’t say anything in the class QQ group before, and didn’t contact anyone in advance.”

“I wanted to come back earlier and explain everything in person… but things didn’t work out, and it kept getting delayed. If I didn’t rush here now, I might have missed the reunion entirely.”

Xiaoxue’s words.

Xiaoxue’s voice.

Xiaoxue’s way of speaking.

To Jiang Ran, it felt as if only a single day had passed.

Just like the laughter and bickering three months ago in the Film Camera Club room at Donghai University.

The Cheng Mengxue before him was no different from the Cheng Mengxue back then.

Not even slightly.

Exactly the same.

As if copied and pasted.

As if she had walked across a long bridge of blue butterflies through spacetime, stepping directly from Worldline No. 0 into Worldline No. 1.

Just as before.

Just like the past.

As if she had never died in this world.

The classmates stared at one another, exchanging bewildered looks.

No matter how one thought about it, Cheng Mengxue herself admitted she had frightened everyone—meaning she knew perfectly well that her sudden appearance was abnormal.

That calm, logical explanation gradually helped the crowd settle down.

How could the dead come back to life?

They believed Zhou Xiong indeed possessed immense wealth, connections, and influence.

With those resources, he might easily grant everyone’s wishes.

But reviving someone who had already died?

That was impossible.

Physics itself would not allow it.

Even if Zhou Xiong possessed wealth rivaling entire nations and connections reaching the heavens, he could never accomplish something so absurd.

It was only because so many shocking events had happened tonight that everyone’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point, causing Cheng Mengxue’s sudden appearance to frighten them so badly.

Now that they calmed down and thought carefully—

The old classmate Cheng Mengxue standing before them was alive and breathing. How could that be fake?

Since that was the case, it meant the death incident two years ago must have hidden circumstances.

Considering Cheng Mengxue had just mentioned the words “return to the country”…

Could it be that—

[After the accident back then, due to some special reason, Cheng Mengxue’s family had been forced to leave the country and hide abroad under assumed identities?]

The more they thought about it, the more it seemed like the only possible explanation.

“Xiaoxue, you…”

If anyone present was least surprised by Cheng Mengxue’s appearance, it was undoubtedly Teacher Gao.

Teacher Gao and Cheng Mengxue’s father were fellow villagers. They had grown up together, childhood friends with a very close relationship.

So within the class, this was no secret.

Everyone knew about it.

…

(Students crowded around Cheng Mengxue, asking questions nonstop. Wang Hao finally climbed up from the ground and rushed into the crowd.)

Meanwhile, at the noisy hotel entrance, only Jiang Ran remained standing off to the side, watching the continuation of this surreal spectacle from a short distance.

To be honest—

Jiang Ran’s heart was full of contradictions.

Imagine if, at this very moment, he had genuinely used the old electronic cannon to send a time-traveling text message—then experienced the buzzing dizziness of a worldline shift—and after opening his eyes two seconds later…

Cheng Mengxue appeared in front of him like this.

In that case, he would be more excited than anyone.

He would rush forward first, grab Cheng Mengxue, and pour out everything that had happened.

Qin Feng’s betrayal.

His own struggle to repair the old electronic cannon.

How he had passed through countless trials to bring her back.

At that moment, Jiang Ran would truly feel joy, excitement, and exhilaration.

He would tell Cheng Mengxue everything honestly.

Without hiding a single detail.

After all—

[In his heart, Cheng Mengxue was the closest person in the world besides his parents—the person he trusted most.]

But now—

He did not dare.

And he would not do that.

The Cheng Mengxue before him looked completely genuine, completely alive.

Yet she was not someone he had personally brought back.

He did not understand how Cheng Mengxue had “returned from the dead.”

Was it really as she said—that she had simply gone abroad with her parents under an assumed identity for two years?

Or—

Were Zhou Xiong and the so-called Lilith truly capable of miracles?

Was that phone, the one said to grant any wish, really powerful enough to resurrect Cheng Mengxue?

Jiang Ran could not judge the truth.

Just like he could not determine whether the Cheng Mengxue before him was real or false.

That was the greatest difference between him and everyone else.

The others had never experienced time travel.

They had never personally witnessed a Worldline Transition.

And Zhou Xiong’s and Lilith’s so-called “superpowers,” to them, were nothing more than “money power”—every fulfilled wish ultimately boiled down to wealth and influence bending the world.

So to everyone else, Cheng Mengxue standing here had nothing to do with truth or falsehood.

If she was alive, then she was real.

There was no possibility of deception.

What you see exists.

What exists is reasonable.

What is reasonable is fact.

That was the logic everyone believed.

But—

Jiang Ran was different.

He had experienced too much.

And combined with Lilith and the phone that could grant any wish—two things that matched almost perfectly with the cringeworthy fantasy concept collection he had once written—these coincidences forced Jiang Ran to question whether the Cheng Mengxue before him was genuine.

If she was real, then everything was simple.

But—

What if she was fake?

The mere thought made his spine run cold.

What kind of “fake” could it be?

Cloning?

Plastic surgery?

Disguise?

Impersonation?

Countless strange possibilities flashed through Jiang Ran’s mind, yet none could convince him.

Because—

[Fake is fake. Real is real.]

This was not copying antiques or producing counterfeit luxury goods.

Cheng Mengxue was a living person.

To impersonate someone who had lived for over a decade—with a past, experiences, family, and friends—

How could that possibly succeed?

Wouldn’t the disguise fall apart almost immediately?

And so—

Jiang Ran simply stood there.

Silently listening.

Over by the crowd, the atmosphere gradually turned cheerful.

Everyone asked questions one after another, surrounding Cheng Mengxue. And just like before, she remained gentle, kind, and patient, answering them all.

Two years ago, it turned out, the car accident had left her with severe brain injuries.

She had been on the verge of death.

At the time, there had been no hope of treatment in China. In desperation, her parents accepted a new experimental medical proposal from an American scientist and took the entire family to the United States.

The treatment involved the latest research results.

The scientist’s team had extremely strict conditions.

The first requirement was absolute secrecy.

Not a single detail could be revealed.

Even more extreme—after the treatment succeeded, they still had to remain in the United States for two additional years to cooperate with follow-up research.

Their plan had been for Cheng Mengxue’s parents to publicly pretend their daughter had died.

A cremation would be arranged.

A funeral held.

The team helped handle the details, eventually burying an urn in the bamboo cemetery at Jingshan to deceive everyone.

Afterward, Cheng Mengxue’s parents sold their house and left for the United States.

Under the strict agreement, they cut off all contact with China.

Not a single message could be sent.

“We didn’t dare disobey them,” Cheng Mengxue explained honestly.

“First, my parents were afraid that if we broke the agreement, the team would stop my treatment. They didn’t dare gamble with my life.”

“Second, the scientist’s team treated our family extremely well. They spent enormous resources to save me, helped with my recovery, cared about my education, and even arranged for me to attend a university in the United States.”

“You could say that aside from the strict secrecy and the requirement not to contact China, they asked nothing else of us. They took good care of us there, and even helped my father start a business.”

“So… my parents and I truly feel grateful to them. We were also willing to keep our promise and honor the contract by not contacting anyone in China for two years.”

Piece by piece, Cheng Mengxue’s experiences over the past two years emerged through the classmates’ questions.

Everything became clear.

Everyone understood the full story.

And most people sympathized with her family’s decision.

“I think it makes sense to keep the secret if that’s what they asked. I mean, China had already given up treatment, and they were still willing to try at any cost.”

“Yeah, if it were my parents, they’d do the same. When it comes to your child’s life, nothing else matters.”

“Honestly, that scientist doesn’t sound heartless. I thought they’d imprisoned your family or something. But they sent you to the University of Pennsylvania and even helped your father start a business… the only condition was two years without contact with China. That sounds acceptable.”

Tonight’s reunion had been twisting, bizarre, almost surreal.

First Zhou Xiong had flaunted his wealth and influence.

Then came the tragic shock of murder.

And now, the unexpected “return from the dead” of Cheng Mengxue.

Horror and joy had arrived one after another.

When Cheng Mengxue heard that Zhou Xiong had been murdered, she was shocked and deeply saddened, falling silent for a long time.

It was already very late.

At the crime scene nearby, the police cars and ambulances had long since departed. The caution tape had been removed.

The restaurant’s final table of customers left.

The staff began cleaning.

The forty-two teachers and students had chatted outside for far too long.

Before they realized it, midnight had arrived.

“Everyone, it’s late. Please head home safely.”

Teacher Gao still looked deeply saddened.

After all, one of his students had died tragically tonight.

Even though another student thought to be dead had returned with good news, it could not fully erase the grief of the one who had been lost.

Wang Hao worried Teacher Gao might still be drunk and helped him toward the street to hail a taxi.

The other classmates followed along.

And so the reunion of classmates two years after graduation ended amid reluctant farewells and a strange sense of surviving disaster.

At the entrance of the restaurant, only two people remained.

Jiang Ran—who had never joined the crowd, never spoken a single word to Cheng Mengxue.

And—

Cheng Mengxue, who had repeatedly glanced toward Jiang Ran from the crowd, wanting to say something yet holding back each time.

Now the other classmates had all left.

The two of them stood beneath the moonlight on the roadside.

In the summer night filled with the sound of cicadas.

Separated by only a few meters, they looked at each other through the darkness.

Finally—

It was Cheng Mengxue who moved first.

She slowly walked over to Jiang Ran and gave a small wave.

“Hi, Jiang Ran.”

It was clear she wanted to use a relaxed smile to quietly dissolve the two years of separation between life and death.

As if their last meeting had been yesterday.

As if neither of them had ever disappeared from the other’s time.

But only one second passed.

And Cheng Mengxue collapsed into tears.

She could no longer hold it in.

The forced smile vanished instantly from her face, replaced by endless longing and guilt in her eyes.

“Jiang Ran…”

Her lips trembled.

Tears streamed down like beads on a string.

“I’m sorry.”