novelraw Chapter 28 Sorry
Chapter 28 Sorry
A brief silence.
Cheng Mengxue let go of Jiang Ran’s arm and sat up.
[…Probably, yes.]
She spoke softly, giving the answer Jiang Ran also thought was obvious.
He knew Qin Feng very well.
If their positions were reversed, if it were Jiang Ran trying to save a father who had died ten years ago, Qin Feng would definitely agree.
Not only would he agree.
He would agree without the slightest hesitation.
Because Qin Feng was exactly that kind of person—decisive, resolute, valuing loyalty and righteousness above all else. It was one of the things Jiang Ran admired most about him.
But.Jiang Ran did not think of himself as someone who lacked loyalty.
He had simply always been cautious.
Even though Qin Feng often said he was too cautious.
His worries and misgivings were always greater than other people’s.
If Qin Feng’s father had not died ten years ago…
If it had been a month ago, or even ten months ago, he might have agreed.
Ten years.
That was simply too long.
Who could guarantee that the tornado of the butterfly effect would not sweep over him, sweep over Cheng Mengxue, sweep over Qin Feng?
[…Xiaoxue, actually, there’s something I’ve never told you.]
Jiang Ran raised his head and looked at the small blackboard.
On it was still written the string of numbers, 289269426494642, along with the code deciphered through nine-key input—
[…Do not believe, ha…]
[…I’ve always felt that the last ‘ha’ …]
He said in a low voice:
[…is referring to Qin Feng.]
[Huh?]
Cheng Mengxue exclaimed in shock. This was something she had truly never considered:
[Jiang Ran… w-why would you think that?]
[I’m not sure either.]
Jiang Ran shook his head.
[…It’s just a kind of intuition. From the moment I first saw that string of numbers, I felt like it was reminding me, warning me.]
[…Especially after seeing the four characters ‘do not believe,’ the first person I thought of was Qin Feng…
I thought it was a message sent to me by my future self, warning me not to believe Qin Feng.]
[…I know this way of thinking is wrong. How can you doubt your own friend?
But this has always been my concern, and it’s also the reason I opposed reviving Qin Feng’s father.]
…
After laying bare his true feelings, Jiang Ran actually felt a bit lighter.
On one side was trust in a friend, and on the other was suspicion of that same friend—this contradiction had left him unable to make a firm decision.
After a long while.
Cheng Mengxue looked at him.
[Can I tell you what I think?]
[Of course.]
[Jiang Ran.]
Cheng Mengxue took his hand.
[Do you think Qin Feng is hiding something from you?]
[No.]
Jiang Ran shook his head without hesitation.
Qin Feng had always spoken his mind. He had never hidden anything from him.
Including his desire to use time-traveling texts to save his father—it could hardly be called concealment;
if anything, he had said it plainly when Jiang Ran asked about his wish, which was a form of honesty.
What was more, it was completely normal for Qin Feng to think that way.
If it were any boy—losing his father at a young age, enduring years of online abuse, and now having the ability to undo the tragedy and save his father…
Who wouldn’t think of that first?
[Then do you think Qin Feng has been secretly doing something behind your back?] Cheng Mengxue asked again.
Jiang Ran shook his head.
[No.]
Qin Feng did everything openly.
He had explained every detail of modifying the Positron Cannon, holding nothing back. And as for secretly doing something…
To be blunt.
If Qin Feng really wanted to do something in secret, it would be ridiculously easy.
The Positron Cannon was repaired by him. Before the control panel with the adjustment knob was installed, only he could operate it.
The spare key to the club room was hidden under the flowerpot by the stairwell;
this had always been a tradition of the Film Camera Club, and they had never planned to move it.
The club room’s flimsy wooden door had always been meant to keep out gentlemen, not villains…
A piece of junk that could be kicked open with one blow—the key was purely decorative.
So.
If Qin Feng really wanted to secretly activate the Positron Cannon and send a message to himself ten years ago, it would have been absurdly easy.
Qin Feng could have saved his father from ten years ago without the two of them ever knowing.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he handed the choice to the two of them—effectively, to Jiang Ran himself.
[Qin Feng trusts us.]
Cheng Mengxue continued:
[He also cherishes us.
He could have secretly sent a time-traveling text behind our backs, but he never did that.]
[I know.]
Jiang Ran opened his eyes.
[But no matter how you put it, I have to be responsible for the safety of both of you.]
He stood up, repeating an old point:
[You two have never actually experienced temporal changes, so you can’t feel what a worldline transition is like…
That sense of powerlessness, passivity, and fear when facing the laws of time—you can’t understand it.]
[Every time a worldline changes, before I even open my eyes, I’m afraid,
afraid that I won’t see you again,
afraid that you’ll be devoured by the butterfly effect of spacetime.]
[I really don’t dare to gamble!
Ten years is truly too long!]
Cheng Mengxue also stood up and smiled faintly.
Then, with a soft “pop,” she lifted the lid of the rice-cooker Rhine Cat,
took out the blue-glowing, round little spacetime-particle Rhine Cat from inside, and handed it over.
[What are you doing?]
[Here, I’m lending it to you for now.]
Cheng Mengxue stuffed the spacetime-particle Rhine Cat into Jiang Ran’s hands.
[According to the background story of the spacetime-particle Rhine Cat…
this is something that can bring miracles and power.]
[Feels like you’re describing a magical girl.]
[Hey, don’t interrupt me!]
She stroked the fur of the spacetime-particle Rhine Cat, which crackled like an electric current, her expression gentle.
[They say it’s a symbol of courage and bonds,
representing the truest friendship and the deepest trust.]
[Boruto: Naruto Next Generations?]
[Are you going to let me finish talking or not!]
Cheng Mengxue swung a punch at him.
[Anyway!]
She said indignantly:
[Anyway, just like Qin Feng,
I trust you, I believe in you, and I’ll follow any decision you make!]
[Haven’t the two of us always been like this since we were little?
I’ve always run along behind you,
wherever you go, I go too.]
[So no matter what choice you make…
I’ll always be right behind you.]
Cheng Mengxue blinked, starlight seeming to shimmer in her eyes.
[I think Qin Feng is probably the same.]
…
Two days later, the rooftop of the student activity building.
Creak—
Jiang Ran pushed open the iron door of the stairwell and looked at Qin Feng, who was gazing into the distance beneath the setting sun.
The scene before him was just like it had been more than ten days ago.
One person standing by the edge of the roof, one person just stepping out of the stairwell.
Only this time, their positions were reversed.
The sunset draped Qin Feng’s shadow over Jiang Ran as he slowly walked forward.
[These past few days, I’ve thought about a lot of things.]
Jiang Ran spoke as he walked.
[A butterfly effect spanning ten years is something we can’t possibly predict.]
[And that string of mysterious numbers…
that inexplicable sentence it decodes into,
we can’t completely ignore such a hint, we shou—]
Faced with those eyes filled with both expectation and panic, Jiang Ran suddenly fell silent, unable to continue.
All his justifications stuck in his throat.
They wouldn’t come out, but he couldn’t swallow them either.
Yes.
Qin Feng was incredibly smart.
Did he really not understand these principles?
Did he really not know these risks?
What was the point of saying them out loud?
“Qin Feng.”
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
A gust of wind rolled empty cans across the rooftop. A plane cut a white contrail through the sky, slicing it cleanly in two.
Jiang Ran faced Qin Feng’s gradually dimming gaze beneath the burning clouds of sunset.
[…Sorry.]
He said softly.
…
…
…
Qin Feng lowered his head.
Then he stepped forward.
With only a step between them, his right hand came to rest on Jiang Ran’s shoulder.
“It’s okay.”
He smiled faintly.
[…I don’t blame you.]