Prodigy’s Playground

Chapter 173 Return to the Origin

Hangzhou, Jingshan Bamboo Cemetery.

Step by step, Jiang Ran and Wang Hao climbed the stone stairs until they arrived in front of Cheng Mengxue’s gravestone.

“Will this spot work?”

Wang Hao pointed to a patch of grass-covered earth to the left of the gravestone. “It’s all stone around here. This is the only place we can dig.”

“Yeah.” Jiang Ran nodded.

After that, Wang Hao looked around like a thief, darting his eyes in every direction. Only after confirming it was safe did he shake out his sleeves and pull a folding shovel from inside one of them.

Although Jingshan Bamboo Cemetery had already removed the metal detectors at the entrance and no longer required security checks, openly bringing an iron shovel here was still extremely risky. It would be far too easy to get labeled a “grave robber” and hauled straight to the police station.

Click. Click.

After assembling the folding shovel, Wang Hao bent over and began digging. He was making a small pit to the left of Cheng Mengxue’s gravestone so Jiang Ran could bury something there afterward.

As clumps of damp soil were turned over one after another, the air gained the fresh fragrance of wet earth.Jiang Ran took the glass bottle containing the letter from his pocket.

Then he stepped back.

He looked at the black-and-white photo embedded in the stone, at the girl who felt both familiar and impossibly distant.

Suddenly.

He remembered what Chi Xiaoguo had said the first time they met, when she described the charm of film cameras—

[What’s real is real, and what’s fake is fake.]

Now, he understood those words from the bottom of his heart.

Why had he always felt a sense of resistance toward the Cheng Mengxue impersonated by Li Yini?

Why had he always believed the Cheng Mengxue before his eyes was fake?

Why had he always wanted to find flaws in the girl?

The reason was simple.

Because—

She really was fake.

A fake is a fake. It can never become real, and it could never give Jiang Ran a real feeling.

Now that he looked back, the answer had already been laid out in front of him from the very beginning—from that “thousand cups without getting drunk” night at the Black Pearl Restaurant. It was just that, faced with that nostalgic and familiar smile, there had always been something inside him unwilling to open his eyes.

But now, every right and wrong had come to an end.

[The Positron Cannon still has to be repaired somehow.]

[The spacetime shuttle still has to be built somehow.]

[The dead Cheng Mengxue still has to be saved somehow.]

Just as Wang Hao had said, now that the farce was over, everything had returned to the proper track, returned to the origin, and his thoughts had become clearer and more direct.

He turned around.

And looked down the stone steps.

Now, there was nothing there at all—so clean it was as if nothing had ever happened.

But just a few mornings ago—

Smoke had curled through that very place. The smoke bomb’s haze had swallowed all sight and sealed away time itself.

At that moment, the girl with a gaping hole blasted through her chest, her face twisted in agony, her cheeks streaked with muddy tears, had begged him to save her.

No matter who that girl had been before, at that moment, she had definitely been Cheng Mengxue.

Cheng Mengxue, who had always been terrified of pain and rejected anything sharp, had still stepped in front of that sniper bullet to save him.

This was already the second time Cheng Mengxue had shoved him away from danger.

At the same time, it was Cheng Mengxue’s first death.

How could one person die twice?

The more he turned that sentence over in his mind, the more absurd and tragic it felt.

“It’s done digging!”

Over there, Wang Hao wiped the sweat from his forehead, then wiped his hands on the hem of his shirt before straightening up. “Alright, hurry and bury it. If someone sees us, we’re done for. They’ll definitely think we came here to steal ashes.”

Jiang Ran nodded, placed the glass bottle into the pit, and used his foot to push dirt over it, working together with Wang Hao to fill the ground back in.

After that, Wang Hao carefully pieced the turf back together, poured a bottle of mineral water over it, then bounced up and down a few times with his massive weight to restore the site and cover their tracks.

“Sigh.”

Wang Hao let out a long breath. “Never would’ve thought the thing that saved your life in the end was the time capsule Xiaoxue buried back then.”

“You know, if that handwritten letter hadn’t awakened Xiaoxue’s consciousness at the last second and pushed you away, the one getting buried here right now would’ve been you. Today I’d have had to buy two bouquets—one for each of you.”

“Can your mouth show a little respect for once?”

Jiang Ran frowned at him. “Did your tongue get poisoned by the cold?”

“I’m stating facts!”

Wang Hao spread his hands. “Who could’ve guessed that the time capsule Xiaoxue buried as a joke over ten years ago would actually be dug up by you more than a decade later and successfully delivered to her future self?”

“Seriously—fate is incredible. Without that letter, your brains would’ve absolutely been splattered everywhere. Don’t act smug just because you got lucky.”

“Speaking of which, who exactly did you offend? For someone to want you dead badly enough to use a sniper rifle, what kind of unforgivable thing did you do?”

Jiang Ran shook his head. “I want to know too.”

That was the truth.

More than anyone, he wanted to know why Wu Yuanzheng wanted him dead.

The people the Mutual Aid Society of Regrets had killed before were all scholars or scientists. Judging from that alone, he didn’t even qualify.

If they had their eyes on the Positron Cannon, at most they could only have discovered it this semester. But he had already been targeted by that group during summer break.

The only barely plausible explanation was the micro-film he wrote, Prodigy’s Playground.

But even if he had accidentally leaked some secret, was there really any need to kill him to silence him?

Too many people had handled that micro-film. Too many had seen it. That secret was doomed not to stay buried forever—it would inevitably come to light sooner or later.

Could Wu Yuanzheng really kill all one hundred members of the film club, along with every judge at the film festival?

If he really had that level of resolve, Jiang Ran would have nothing to say. At least that would mean he treated everyone equally—anyone who saw it died.

But the reality was that Wu Yuanzheng had only fixated on killing him, paying no attention at all to the film club members, and likely not caring whether anyone else truly leaked the secret.

So the conclusion was obvious:

[The reason Wu Yuanzheng singled me out—and later wanted me dead—cannot be that shallow, cannot be that simple. There must be some deeper factor.]

That was also what Jiang Ran most urgently wanted to understand.

“Man, it’s not just you. Xiaoxue’s family got hit hard too. Not only did Xiaoxue die in that car accident, her parents vanished too.”

Wang Hao sighed again. “Looking at it that way, there’s an eighty percent chance her parents are gone for good too.”

Jiang Ran pressed his lips together and said nothing.

That was indeed the truth.

Officer Liu had cooperated with U.S. police to investigate Cheng Mengxue’s parents, but they hadn’t found a single clue.

A place like America had too many missing persons every year. People disappeared without explanation all the time, impossible to trace. But just as Wang Hao said, there was an eighty percent chance the worst had happened.

That was another reason Jiang Ran’s determination to rewrite history and return to Worldline 0 had only grown stronger.

On this Worldline 1, too many people had been crushed by fate because of uncontrollable temporal butterfly effects.

Although it wasn’t Jiang Ran’s fault, he believed he still bore some responsibility.

So.

He had to shoulder that responsibility.

And undo all of this.

Over there, Wang Hao pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. “Forget it, no point overthinking it. Thinking too much about this kind of thing won’t solve anything.”

“Besides, no matter what, this whole real-and-fake Cheng Mengxue thing proved one truth.”

“The dead can never truly come back. All we can do is mourn and accept it.”

Hmph.

Jiang Ran gave a quiet snort. “Not necessarily.”

“Hey! You’re impossible!”

Wang Hao looked deeply dissatisfied. “Jiang Ran, do you have some kind of reflexive-contrarian personality? Doesn’t matter whether what people say is right or wrong—you always have to argue back.”

“You’re the one who said this first! When Cheng Mengxue suddenly showed up, you kept insisting she was fake, saying the dead are destined never to return, and now you’re slapping yourself in the face?”

“Science, brother. You’ve gotta believe in science. Unless you can invent a time machine and go back to the past like Doraemon and Nobita to stop that car accident, what are you going to use to resurrect Xiaoxue? Your head? Are you a magician or a witch?”

“Would you hurry up and shut that crow’s mouth of yours.”

Jiang Ran shot him an annoyed look.

This dead-fatty’s slick tongue was practically blessed.

“Let’s go.”

Before leaving, Jiang Ran looked back one last time at the heart-soothing smile on the gravestone.

I owe this life to you.

He said silently in his heart.

So—

Xiaoxue.

No matter what.

I will bring you back.

America, Philadelphia, Garner Life Sciences Research Institute.

Qin Feng stood atop an artificial rock formation, looking toward the brightly lit institute several hundred meters away.

Staff moved in and out constantly, carrying equipment and instruments from inside to the trucks parked outside, trip after trip.

Police detectives had set up caution tape and were coordinating with judicial personnel.

After Wu Yuanzheng’s death, Doctor Garner had been liquidated under multiple charges. Prison time was naturally unavoidable, and his remaining assets would also be seized and auctioned according to judicial procedure.

People always said when one whale falls, all things flourish.

Without the Mutual Aid Society of Regrets murdering scientists and scholars, perhaps the world would move toward a brilliant future.

Or perhaps it would head toward even deeper madness.

But Qin Feng didn’t care.

Humanity’s future would find its own road, its own direction.

He had no grand ambitions.

He only wanted to undo his own mistakes and bring back his friend.

“It seems Garner doesn’t have any backup of Cheng Mengxue’s memories. Dartmouth doesn’t either. But I absolutely do not believe the Puppet would be generous enough to hand over the only volunteer data from his consciousness-upload experiment to the Priest.”

The phone in his right hand lit up.

“So, Mister Magician, who is your next target? The Puppet?”

“That’s right.”

Qin Feng spoke softly. “Once I destroy the Priest’s gold coin, along with the King Coin in his possession, Prodigy’s Playground will fall into chaos again. That won’t just give me more room to move—it’ll also create plenty of opportunities.”

“My primary target is still the Clown. He remains my greatest threat right now. If I don’t eliminate him—”

“—I can only keep sneaking around like this forever.”

“But what the Puppet has done has already crossed my bottom line. Once I settle accounts with the Priest, it’ll be his turn.”

“Two years ago, I had no choice but to seek his help and upload Cheng Mengxue’s consciousness. I only wanted to preserve the slightest possible chance to bring my friend back.”

“I thought he would honor our agreement and keep that data safe. But the truth proves I was too naive. Not only did he share it with the Priest and create a Cheng Mengxue convincing enough to fool anyone, I suspect he’s still using Cheng Mengxue’s memories for other dirty dealings.”

“I don’t regret that my mistake from two years ago left me surrounded by enemies and trapped in a passive position.”

“I only regret that I failed to protect my friend—not only did I fail to revive her, but even after death, her memories and consciousness continued to be exploited.”

At that, Qin Feng sighed and closed his eyes.

[I ruined everything.]

His hand tightened.

[I tried every possible method. I made every possible attempt. None of it brought Cheng Mengxue back. So the only remaining way to save her… is to win this game and become the final victor of Prodigy’s Playground.]

“Do your best, Mister Magician.”

Lilith’s clear, melodious voice rang from the phone. “Although Lilith would personally prefer your motivation for winning the game to be a little more noble and grand, the rules do not impose such restrictions. The victor may win everything. No matter what means are used to achieve victory, we respect the choices of time and fate.”

“But Lilith should kindly remind you of one thing, Mister Magician—your phone is about to die. If necessary, I can arrange for a small drone to deliver you a power bank for only 420 points.”

“Heh.”

Qin Feng couldn’t help laughing. “Lilith, if you weren’t so chatty all day and could talk a little less, my battery wouldn’t drain this fast.”

“Hehe, that’s because you haven’t hung up~”

Lilith’s voice was playful and smug. “If you don’t want me disturbing you, all you need to do is say something like ‘Goodbye, Lilith,’ or ‘That’s all for now, Lilith,’ some kind of farewell. I’ll disappear immediately.”

“But honestly, Mister Magician, Lilith likes talking with you very much. Because—you talk to me the way you would talk to a friend. It makes me feel very close to you.”

Qin Feng nodded without denying it. “That’s true.”

He spoke honestly.

“I’ve always been a bit withdrawn since I was little. I never really had friends. I loved spending time with my father and listening to his stories, but he was never home.”

“Then my father was killed by the Clown, and after inheriting the Magician seat, I’ve spent all this time hiding and running.”

“So…”

He gave a helpless smile.

“It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I really don’t have any friends. You’re the only one I can talk to.”

Lilith fell silent for a few seconds.

“But—Mister Magician, didn’t you say you once had two best friends?”

“Even if, in reality, you never met face-to-face and never exchanged a single word, you’ve done so much for them. If you went to find them, I’m sure you’d become good friends again.”

Qin Feng looked at the brightly lit institute in the distance and let out a long breath.

“I’d need to be able to face them first.”

He lowered his head and smiled bitterly.

“How could I not want to meet them? It’s just that one of those two friends died because of the butterfly effect caused by me, and the other was dragged into danger because of my mistake too…”

“A perfectly good trio turned into this because of me. How could I possibly face him?”

“More importantly, for the past ten years I’ve been hunted by the Clown. If I recklessly make contact with Jiang Ran now, I’ll only hurt him by putting the Clown’s eyes on him.”

[Cheng Mengxue already died because of me. I can’t… let history repeat itself and get Jiang Ran killed too.]

“What strange friendship,” Lilith complained.

“So when do you plan to see them?”

“At the very least, after I deal with the Clown.”

By then, I can go find Jiang Ran, tell him everything, and fight alongside him to win this game and bring Cheng Mengxue back.”

Qin Feng’s gaze hardened with resolve.

“The iron triangle has to be three people—

not one less.”