novelraw Chapter 73 An Old Acquaintance
Chapter 73 An Old Acquaintance
Hng!
Hng!
Hng!
At the very last moment before consciousness vanished, all pain and discomfort disappeared in an instant.
Accompanied by the familiar dizziness and vertigo, the world spinning violently, Jiang Ran lost his five senses once more.
Just as expected.
The temporal-shift reaction appeared again.
Exactly as he had anticipated—
[As long as I die during this “time travel,” whose reality is still unknown, it will trigger a temporal shift and send me back to 2025.]
Two seconds later.Feet on solid ground. Warm sunlight. A gentle breeze.
Jiang Ran opened his eyes again.
“Senior!”
“Senior!”
The same voice came from two different directions.
One from the window of the Film Camera Club activity room, the other from the phone with the connected call.
“Did this experiment succeed?”
“Did this experiment succeed?”
Jiang Ran lowered his head and looked at the call interface on his phone.
[Call duration]
[00:03]
[00:04]
[00:05]
Exactly the same as during the first “time travel.” No matter how long he spent on the 2045 side, on the 2025 side it was only an instant.
Jiang Ran hung up the call and gave Chi Xiaoguo an OK gesture through the window.
“Wait for me in the activity room. I’ll be right there.”
After circling back and returning to the Film Camera Club activity room, Jiang Ran reported to Chi Xiaoguo:
“Whether it succeeded or not is hard to say, but at least… I think I’ve found some patterns.”
He didn’t go into detail and continued:
“Can we try once more tomorrow morning?”
“Of course!”
Seeing Senior Jiang Ran pull himself together again, with a faint spark reigniting in his eyes, Chi Xiaoguo felt both happy and relieved.
“Then I’ll come at the usual time tomorrow morning!”
After that, Chi Xiaoguo headed to the cafeteria—she still had classes in the morning.
Come to think of it, it wasn’t just Chi Xiaoguo who had classes. Jiang Ran also had classes to attend over at the junior college.
It was just that—
With how busy he was now, who had time to worry about classes?
At the junior college, either his roommates would help him answer roll call, or Wang Hao would go in his place. As long as it could be muddled through, they’d muddle through; if it really couldn’t be covered up, then he’d just get marked absent by the instructor—there was no helping it.
Jiang Ran was all-in now, gambling his graduation certificate on the Positron Cannon.
As long as the Positron Cannon could successfully send time-traveling text messages and reset the worldline, all those absence records at the junior college would be wiped clean and wouldn’t count.
And if, in the end, he failed to reset the worldline…
“Gulp.”
A chill ran through Jiang Ran. He didn’t dare imagine the consequences.
Forget returning to Donghai University—at the junior college, he’d probably be barred from exams due to excessive absences and end up without even a graduation certificate.
“Wait. That’s not right.”
He suddenly remembered that junior colleges didn’t issue degree certificates anyway—only graduation certificates.
But that wasn’t the point.
Skipping classes endlessly wasn’t a solution. He had to hurry up and solve the problem at hand.
After Chi Xiaoguo left, Jiang Ran closed the activity room door and began organizing his thoughts on the small blackboard.
This perfect replication of the May 15 “time travel” allowed him to summarize several recurring patterns:
1. As long as a call is connected within 0.7 seconds of activating the Positron Cannon, a similar temporal-shift reaction occurs—dizziness and vertigo from a worldline transition—sending him to around 10 a.m. on September 17, 2045.
2. No matter the cause of death, the buzzing dizziness returns, and he is sent back to the moment in 2025 when the Positron Cannon was activated, completely unharmed.
3. What happens on September 17, 2045 is fixed and unchanging, unless he deliberately interferes.
From these three points, an obvious conclusion could be drawn:
[The Positron Cannon has indeed malfunctioned and is temporarily unable to send time-traveling text messages, but by sheer accident it has produced other functions.]
“At present, there’s only one most urgent question that needs to be answered.”
Chalk in hand, Jiang Ran wrote heavily on the small blackboard—
[Is the future world of September 17, 2045 that I travel to real, or fake?]
This question was critically important.
If he could prove that all these travels—and that future world—were real, then what the Killer said would also be real.
A time-travel machine.
A machine that could send people back to the past.
And its inventor was at Donghai University.
“If this information is true…”
Jiang Ran muttered to himself,
“Then even if the Positron Cannon can’t send time-traveling text messages, I could still use the time-travel machine to save Cheng Mengxue!”
In a sense,
The time-travel machine and the Positron Cannon worked on the same principle.
According to the Killer, the time-travel machine transported a person’s entire body back into the past, allowing them to rewrite history and reshape the worldline as a time traveler.
That was very similar to Hollywood films like The Terminator, Back to the Future, and Twelve Monkeys.
The Positron Cannon couldn’t transport a human body—only text messages—but it could still rewrite history and reshape the worldline.
Truly a case of despair giving way to hope.
When he’d realized the Positron Cannon was malfunctioning and unable to function normally, Jiang Ran had nearly collapsed emotionally, seeing no possibility of saving Cheng Mengxue.
And now, hope had returned.
That was also why he’d asked Chi Xiaoguo to run another experiment the next morning.
“The Killer is full of secrets, and the rumors about the [time-travel machine] are vague at best, but… for now, I should first confirm whether this so-called 2045 is real.”
Only after confirming that the “time travel” was real—that it was the true future twenty years later—would the information obtained from the Killer have any meaning.
Otherwise, it would all be empty delusion.
“One step at a time.”
Jiang Ran clenched his fist.
Fortunately.
Fortunately.
There was still a way forward. Not letting Old Qi dismantle the Positron Cannon yesterday had been the right call.
He couldn’t help recalling the Killer’s final words:
“The time-travel machine… is a device that lets people… travel through time, back to the past…”
“They say… the person who invented the time-travel machine… is at… Donghai University.”
Donghai University.
Truly a place of hidden dragons and crouching tigers.
Not only had it produced a pioneering senior who built the Positron Cannon, but also a super-genius capable of creating something as science-fictional as a time-travel machine.
“Who could it be?”
He couldn’t help feeling curious.
“Which genius alumnus… could possibly be that capable?”
The next day, Jiang Ran arrived at Donghai University early.
His mind was singularly focused—he needed to confirm as soon as possible whether the 2045 world was a real future.
If it was, how did it relate to the present 2025? Were they on the same worldline?
“Hmm… probably so.”
Jiang Ran recalled Cheng Mengxue’s question to Professor Zhang Yang back on Worldline 0. At the time, Professor Zhang Yang had clearly stated that [our world can only operate on a single fixed worldline].
But when it came to things beyond human cognition, who could really be 100% certain?
He had to find a way to verify it himself.
The method Jiang Ran came up with was simple—
“If the future world of 2045 is real, then it must be possible to predict many major international events that are about to happen in 2025.”
As long as he could ask the Killer and the others about some landmark events in 2025, then wait a while and see if they occurred, he could basically confirm it.
If that miraculous “time travel” was nothing more than a delusion or a daydream, it wouldn’t be able to predict real future events.
Logically, the most efficient way would be to use a computer in 2045 to check news, football scores, or lottery numbers, then return to 2025 and verify them.
But—
He was in a prison.
A place where one lived on the edge of a blade. Where would he find a computer?
And for some reason, that prison felt extremely backward, with very few electronic devices.
It didn’t feel like 2045 at all—if anything, even a 2025 prison felt more modern.
Could it be…
That this was intentional, specifically for holding the Magician?
Jiang Ran shook his head, unable to make sense of it.
Perhaps the Magician was simply too all-encompassing—what, could he escape through the internet otherwise?
“Senior, I brought you breakfast.”
Chi Xiaoguo pushed open the activity room door, lifting a plastic bag in her hand.
“I noticed you never eat breakfast. You might as well eat here.”
“Thanks.”
He really was hungry. Jiang Ran accepted the soy milk and buns and sat down on the sofa to eat.
Chi Xiaoguo walked over to the experiment bench and examined the Positron Cannon.
“Huh?”
She noticed something different.
“Senior, I didn’t notice yesterday—doesn’t this Positron Cannon seem to be missing a part?”
She gestured a rectangle along the side casing with both hands.
“There used to be an LCD circuit board hanging here, with a few knobs labeled with year, month, day, and hour.”
Jiang Ran swallowed his bun and nodded.
“Yeah, that module was removed.”
As it turned out, Old Qi’s diagnosis had been spot on. The focusing unit inside the Positron Cannon had indeed malfunctioned and lost its adjustment function.
So—
Whether that urine-bag-like knob circuit board was there or not didn’t affect the current operation of the Positron Cannon.
“The current Positron Cannon could be considered streamlined—or rather, a modified, evolved version.”
Jiang Ran recalled Cheng Mengxue’s usual naming style.
“Positron Cannon 2.0. That works.”
“Wow.”
Chi Xiaoguo exclaimed.
“A second-stage transformation, like Frieza and Cell.”
Jiang Ran chewed his bun, squinting at Chi Xiaoguo.
This kid… could she be a hidden hardcore otaku?
Earlier, she’d effortlessly referenced Neon Genesis Evangelion, even knowing that the anime’s Positron Cannon was used to fight a cube-shaped Angel.
Now, talking about transformations, she immediately thought of Dragon Ball’s Frieza and Cell.
Interesting. This little bundle of joy was full of surprises.
A few minutes later.
They finished eating and got to work.
The process and setup were exactly the same as yesterday. After so many collaborations, Jiang Ran and Chi Xiaoguo had developed tacit understanding—no words needed.
Jiang Ran climbed onto the windowsill and flipped outside, reaching the transformer distribution box.
They say any coincidence may happen once, maybe twice, but not a third time.
So—
If this third experiment still threw him into 2045, then this “coincidence” could be treated as inevitability—a stable effect of Positron Cannon 2.0.
“Senior! Are you ready?”
Inside the activity room, Chi Xiaoguo raised her phone high.
“I’m starting the countdown!”
“5! 4! 3!”
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring
At “3,” Jiang Ran’s phone rang, showing an incoming call from Chi Xiaoguo.
He didn’t answer immediately.
His thumb hovered over the accept button.
Waiting for the final count.
“2!”
“1!”
“0!”
The instant the countdown ended, the Positron Cannon activated!
A dim blue glow lit up, accompanied by a roaring hum. Jiang Ran seized the timing and pressed the accept button.
Buzz!
Buzz!
Buzz!
Dizziness, vertigo, and that familiar sensation of weightlessness arrived right on cue!
It seemed—
His previous guess had been correct.
After the focusing unit was damaged, the Positron Cannon’s function had completely changed, making a 180-degree turn.
Though the principle was still unclear.
But now, the Positron Cannon 2.0 (battle-damaged version) seemed to do one thing: fling his consciousness to September 17, 2045—always stably around 10 a.m.
As for all the irrational and illogical aspects… those would have to be studied later.
Two seconds later, all discomfort vanished.
Feet on solid ground. Humid air. Without even opening his eyes, Jiang Ran knew he had once again arrived in that familiar, narrow, dim cell.
“Do you know what’s most important for a successful prison break?”
From next door, Qi Biao spoke right on schedule, like an NPC.
“It’s breaking out.”
Jiang Ran answered immediately.
“If you don’t even have the guts to try, how can you talk about success?”
“Holy shit!”
Cell No. 1’s Qi Biao exclaimed.
“Who’s the hero next door? When did you get locked in?!”
“That’s not important.”
Jiang Ran walked to the bars and tapped the steel.
“Qi Biao, open the door.”
A few minutes later, the five-man escape team assembled.
Qi Biao, Hothead, Bookworm, and the Killer stood in a line, looking at the mysterious man before them with confusion and a hint of fear. They wanted to ask questions but didn’t dare, waiting for him to speak.
There was no helping it.
This guy’s boss aura was overwhelming.
He looked like someone born for prison—standing there felt like he was home.
“Gentlemen.”
Jiang Ran swept his gaze from left to right.
“Before we break out, I want to ask you a few questions.”
Qi Biao swallowed.
“Go ahead.”
“Does anyone remember any major world events from 2025?”
After thinking for a moment, Jiang Ran added:
“Even if it’s not a major event—news, gossip, scandals, social hot topics—anything is fine.”
“Preferably from the second half of 2025. It’s okay if you’re not sure; just say it, and I’ll help judge.”
As soon as he finished.
The four of them looked at each other, utterly baffled.
They had no idea what this young man was getting at.
“2025? That was twenty years ago! I was just a kid back then!”
Hothead blurted out without thinking.
“And judging by your age, you weren’t even born yet twenty years ago! Why do you care about stuff that far back?”
Bookworm pushed up his glasses.
“I do remember one thing. In 2025, there really was a major event in the scientific world.”
“I’m absolutely certain—the 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded for the [quantum tunneling effect].”
“Sigh… brings back bad memories. I was imprisoned precisely because I went too deep into researching that theory.”
Jiang Ran looked at Bookworm.
Quantum tunneling?
Was the 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics really for that?
From what he recalled, the Nobel Prizes were announced around October each year. On his worldline, it was only late May 2025—June was just around the corner.
“Quantum tunneling—I remember it as a chip manufacturing term, right?”
Jiang Ran wasn’t an expert, but he had some basic understanding.
“When CPU process nodes go below 3 nanometers, electrons start exhibiting quantum tunneling, causing very low yields. It’s often seen as a sign that Moore’s Law is hitting a wall.”
“Correct.”
Bookworm nodded, smiling at Jiang Ran.
“I didn’t expect you to know that much. But the significance of quantum tunneling goes far beyond that. The reason the 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded for it is because—”
[It’s a phenomenon that exists only in the microscopic realm, yet it can be reproduced in the macroscopic world. That’s revolutionary for the development of macroscopic physics.]
Jiang Ran cut him off.
“Was there anything else in 2025?”
He wasn’t here to attend a lecture. If he wanted lectures, Donghai University had plenty.
What he needed was “future information” that could be verified immediately or in the near term.
The 2025 Nobel Prize in Physics was indeed powerful evidence. If the final result really matched what Bookworm said, then there was a high probability that this 2045 prison was a real future.
But the problem was—
The Nobel Prize wouldn’t be announced until October.
Too far away to help right now.
Bookworm shrugged helplessly.
“That’s all I can remember. Twenty years is a long time.”
He sighed, tilting his head up toward the dim light bulb.
“Being stuck in a place like this for so long… it feels like my brain’s turned to stone. I can’t remember much anymore.”
“2025… it feels so distant. Back then, I was still teaching at Donghai University.”
Jiang Ran’s head snapped up.
“What did you say?”
He looked Bookworm up and down—white hair, deeply wrinkled face.
“You were a teacher at Donghai University?!”
Beside them, the Killer looked at Bookworm with interest.
“I’ve never heard you mention that before.”
Bookworm pushed up his glasses and gave a bitter smile.
“You never asked. Why would I bring up my past for no reason? Talking about it just makes things hurt more.”
“Teacher! Which school were you from?!”
Jiang Ran hurried forward, leaning into the light to examine Bookworm more closely.
On Worldline 0, he’d studied at Donghai University for two years and had never interacted with teachers of this age.
But this was 2045.
Twenty years after 2025.
That meant—
Twenty years ago, Bookworm would have been in his prime!
Jiang Ran stared at that aged, deeply lined face, rapidly comparing features in his mind.
“I was from the School of Physics.”
Bookworm lifted his head and met Jiang Ran’s gaze.
As he raised his head into the light, Jiang Ran caught a familiar outline in his features.
He couldn’t help taking a deep breath and grabbing Bookworm’s rough fingers.
“Teacher… could it be that you’re—”
Bookworm’s glasses slid down. He widened his eyes at Jiang Ran.
“What? Do you know me?”
He swallowed, pushed his glasses back up.
“My name…”
“Is Zhang Yang.”