novelraw Chapter 127 Brother
Chapter 127 Brother
Click.
With that final strand of suspicion, Jiang Ran pressed the sheet of paper filled with deductions about 42 to the very bottom.
All the current guesses were no different from blind speculation.
Better to wait until the next trip to 2045… and find a way to clearly hear the second half of Qin Feng’s last words—what exactly came after “42 is.” Jiang Ran rubbed the pen between his fingers.
The second takeaway from this journey to the future was the exact timing at which he was forcibly “kicked” back to 2025 by the worldline.
It had already been established that there were only three ways to return from the future world of 2045 to 2025:
1. Death.
2. Do nothing—wait until 12:00 noon, at which point the worldline would forcibly “kick” him out.
3. The instant Qin Feng was beheaded.
However, there was a coincidence between the second and third methods—Qin Feng’s execution time was precisely at 12:00 noon.
Because of this, Jiang Ran had never been able to determine whether he was being “kicked” back to 2025 because noon had arrived, or whether the real cause was Qin Feng’s beheading and death.
But after this trip to the future, he had completely figured it out…
[He returns to 2025 precisely at 12:00 noon, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Qin Feng being beheaded.]
The evidence was that this time, Qin Feng’s execution had been advanced by about one minute. As a result, Jiang Ran not only witnessed the entire beheading process, he even endured a rain of blood and locked eyes with Qin Feng’s severed head for more than ten seconds… only afterward did the dizziness and disorientation set in.
In contrast, during the previous time, Qin Feng had been executed exactly on schedule. The moment the executioner’s blade descended through the air, Jiang Ran had immediately experienced the dizziness and spatial distortion.
“So Qin Feng’s execution and death are not the fundamental reason why I return to 2025.”
Jiang Ran summarized on the paper:
“The duration of my stay in the future world is fixed—roughly from the morning of September 17, 2045, at 10:00 a.m., to September 17, 2045, at 12:00 noon. The total duration is about two hours.”
If he had had access to a digital clock from the beginning, he could have calculated the exact duration.
But there was no helping it.
His initial “spawn point” had been a prison cell. There was no way to obtain a digital clock or a watch, so he couldn’t measure the time precisely. “For now, I’ll just summarize it as two hours.”
Jiang Ran wrote down this conclusion.
Next came the third takeaway from this trip to the future.
[Fang Ze.]
This was the Killer’s real name.
At first, Jiang Ran had only asked casually. After all, they had escaped together so many times, and he had relied on the other party’s help more than once—he felt it was only right to at least ask for his real name.
There had been no deeper intention.
But unexpectedly—
The Killer’s name was such a coincidence. It differed by only a single character from that of his handsome dormmate!
One Fang Ze, another Fang Ze.
Both even shared the same water radical, and the same surname. There was a high probability they were brothers.
Considering their ages, the possibility was significant.
The Killer looked to be in his forties. Twenty years earlier, in 2025, he would have been in his twenties.
As for Fang Ze, Jiang Ran had already seen his age on his enrollment card—nineteen this year, the same as himself.
So the possibility that the Killer—Fang Ze—was Fang Ze’s biological older brother was not small.
“I’ll ask Fang Ze when I get back to the dorm tonight…”
Jiang Ran smiled faintly.
“Maybe there’s even a chance to have a meal with the Killer in 2025.”
After class, Jiang Ran left the teaching building, found a secluded corner, and burned the sheet of paper on which he had just summarized his thoughts.
Though it might seem overly cautious, being careful was always better.
Especially when he wasn’t even sure whether he was being watched—and had no idea who his enemy was. It was an extremely passive position to be in.
In the evening, Cheng Mengxue invited Jiang Ran to eat at the cafeteria, and then take a walk around the track field.
Jiang Ran didn’t refuse.
It had to be said—this feeling was incredibly familiar, and deeply nostalgic.
On Worldline 0, the three of them had been together every night, inseparable.
Sometimes they would sit on the track field chatting idly. Sometimes they would stroll through the pedestrian street outside campus. Sometimes they would pass time in the library, bored, reading books… In short, their university life had been plain and simple, yet full of happiness.
Happiness was something without a concrete standard.
Especially at their age—whether one was happy depended solely on who one was with, and had nothing to do with any external factors.
This time.
Walking side by side with Cheng Mengxue on the track field again, chatting idly.
Jiang Ran felt her presence more vividly than ever…
Just as Wang Hao had said, she remembered every trivial detail from childhood, adolescence, and high school. Her manner of speaking, her expressions, her gestures—everything was exactly the same as the childhood friend in his memories.
They talked about one topic after another, circling the track again and again. At times, Jiang Ran felt dazed, as though he had temporarily returned to the longed-for Worldline 0.
During this period, he often found himself thinking—
Were Cheng Mengxue from Worldline 0 and Cheng Mengxue from Worldline 1 actually the same person?
Intuitively and theoretically, the answer was no.
But in reality, it was hard to distinguish.
Because how, exactly, should one define a [person]?
Body, DNA, personality, appearance…
From these perspectives, Cheng Mengxue of Worldline 0 and Cheng Mengxue of Worldline 1 were no different.
The only difference lay in the two years from 2023 to 2025.
One had studied with him at Donghai University. The other had gone to the United States for medical treatment, living under a concealed identity.
If one were to separate Cheng Mengxue into two entirely different people simply because of those two years of differing experiences…
Then what about all the times, on Worldline 0, when they had sent time-traveling text messages and rewritten the history of “three days” over and over again?
The Cheng Mengxue who lost her phone, and the Cheng Mengxue who didn’t;
The Cheng Mengxue who failed calculus, and the Cheng Mengxue who passed;
The Cheng Mengxue who had no money to buy groceries, and the Cheng Mengxue who won the lottery;
By that logic, would all those altered versions of Cheng Mengxue no longer be the original Cheng Mengxue? No longer the childhood friend who had grown up with him?
Jiang Ran didn’t think it could be judged so hastily.
But the moment this thought crossed his mind, he immediately shook his head, refusing to dwell on it further.
Because he realized—
[The moment he began hesitating over these questions, it meant he was already gradually accepting this Worldline 1.]
Sure enough, the longer he stayed on this worldline, the more it influenced the firmness of his heart.
…Sigh.
He still needed to repair the Positron Cannon as soon as possible, or find Lu Yu and research the spacetime shuttle together—correct the lost history and return to Worldline 0 as early as possible.
But unfortunately…
Where could he find the old data for the Positron Cannon?
And where had Lu Yu, who should have enrolled on time, gone?
By the time he returned to the graduate dormitory, it was already ten at night.
After a simple wash, he sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard, his gaze drifting toward the window.
There—
Fang Ze, wearing a loose white shirt, sat on the armchair like a sculpture. His left hand supported his cheek, while his right held a copy of Strait Is the Gate, reading intently.
It had to be said—he truly looked like a beautiful boy straight out of a romance comic.
The desk lamp, blended with moonlight, fell across his pale face and slender neck, accentuating an elegant, cold fairness.
His hazy bangs half-covered his eyes, adding a quiet, melancholic air.
Everything was meticulously refined.
Everything looked like a painting.
Jiang Ran simply watched him in silence, considering how to begin asking about Fang Ze.
Directly asking Fang Ze whether he knew Fang Ze seemed inappropriate.
After all, they had known each other for less than four days. They maintained polite friendliness as classmates, but in reality, their relationship wasn’t that close—there was still a certain unfamiliarity between them.
Perhaps it would be better to start with a general topic—family background.
Jiang Ran’s gaze drifted from top to bottom, settling on Fang Ze’s fingers.
Only then did he notice that Fang Ze and Fang Ze shared an unusually similar trait.
That was—
Both of them had fingers that were fair, long, and strikingly beautiful.
Recalling that future prison, where the Killer’s arms had moved like snakes and his fingers like a brush… the way he now held the book bore an uncanny resemblance.
Could this also be some kind of hereditary trait?
Sensing Jiang Ran’s unusual gaze, Fang Ze pressed his lips together slightly and glanced over.
Then he lowered his head again, continuing to read.
But…
Jiang Ran’s gaze did not move. It traveled up and down, lingering on him, making Fang Ze increasingly uncomfortable.
“Um.”
At last, Fang Ze set the book down and looked at Jiang Ran.
“Jiang Ran, is there something you want to say to me?”
He glanced down at his shirt collar, then at his right hand holding the book, and smiled helplessly.
“I just feel like… you’ve been studying me from top to bottom.”
“Ah?”
Realizing his stare had been inappropriate, Jiang Ran sat up from the edge of the bed.
“No, no—I just think you look pretty good.”
Fang Ze’s eyes widened.
He quickly turned to the window and pulled the curtain open. Moonlight poured in.
“Haha.”
Turning back, he gave a light laugh.
“Thank you for the compliment. I know you don’t mean anything by it, but to be honest… as a guy, hearing that still feels a bit awkward.”
“You’ve misunderstood.”
Jiang Ran explained,
“Maybe because you’ve lived abroad for so long, you’re not very familiar with domestic culture. Over here, it’s quite common to compliment guys for being delicate-looking, gentle, refined, scholarly…”
“To be honest, Dragon Country doesn’t really favor that foreign image of rugged, muscular men. Most people prefer a more clean and refined look.”
“So when we say a guy looks good, there’s absolutely no intention of belittling or insulting.”
Fang Ze blinked, intrigued.
“Oh? Is that so?”
He set the book on the coffee table, adjusted his posture, and faced Jiang Ran.
“Don’t let the fact that I’ve lived abroad fool you—I actually have a pretty good understanding of Dragon Country’s culture, traditions, and society.”
“Uh…”
Jiang Ran scratched his head.
“May I ask—through what channel did you learn all that?”
“Movies,” Fang Ze replied.
“Then what the hell do you know!”
Jiang Ran couldn’t help but complain.
“It’s like how we watch American movies—there’s always some dumb jock football captain acting as the school bully, with a cheerleader girlfriend. Do those combinations actually exist in American universities?”
Fang Ze thought for two seconds, then shook his head.
“When you put it that way… you’re right.”
“In American high schools and universities, both the football captain and the cheerleader captain have extremely high status—they’re idols of the entire student body. Those aren’t positions just any idiot can get.”
“Especially the cheerleader captain. Even being outstanding academically and morally isn’t enough. A girl who can become captain—beauty and physical ability are only the most basic of her advantages. She definitely wouldn’t be as arrogant and domineering as portrayed in TV dramas.”
“Exactly.”
Jiang Ran spread his hands.
“In reality, the youth of Dragon Country has nothing to do with those melodramatic ‘painful youth’ stories—fights, love triangles, pregnancies, running in the rain, leukemia, tragic fallen angels… none of that applies to 99.9% of teenagers.”
“Wait, how did we even get onto this? Actually, when I was looking at you earlier, I was just a bit curious about your family situation. Are you an only child?” Jiang Ran smoothly steered the conversation.
Unexpectedly, Fang Ze nodded without hesitation.
“Yes.”
Ah?
This definite answer caught Jiang Ran off guard.
“You don’t have any siblings?”
“No.” Fang Ze shook his head calmly.
“Oh… alright.”
To be honest, Jiang Ran felt a bit disappointed.
He had spent the whole day thinking that the Killer Fang Ze and his roommate Fang Ze must be connected somehow.
But it turned out Fang Ze was an only child.
It seemed his earlier sense of similarity had just been an illusion.
After that, neither of them spoke.
Jiang Ran lay on his bed, scrolling through his phone, while Fang Ze picked up his English copy of Strait Is the Gate again, holding it in front of his chest.
But this time…
He didn’t turn the page for a long while.
His gaze remained fixed on the left page, his eyes unmoving. It was as if… his eyes were there, but nothing was truly being read.
A long time passed.
Five or six minutes, perhaps.
With a snap, Fang Ze closed the book.
“Alright.”
He spoke softly.
“Sorry, Jiang Ran. I lied just now.”
Resting his head on his hand, Fang Ze gave a slightly guilty smile.
“Actually…”
“I do have an older brother.”