After the doctor touched the mysterious black jade sphere that had appeared in the hallway, he fell into complete darkness. When he regained consciousness, he found familiar scenes appearing before his eyes: somewhat old dormitory buildings, similar roads, and plane trees along the roadside that almost blocked out the sky… Wasn’t this his university campus?

Along the roadside were stalls displaying various old items. Both the vendors and browsing customers were students. After observing for a while, the doctor confirmed this was his graduation year, just before leaving school…

The doctor’s childhood dream had been to become a doctor who saved lives and healed the wounded. He had always worked toward this goal and graduated from medical school with excellent grades. He had already found a hospital for his internship, and everything was proceeding according to plan. The doctor was full of fighting spirit.

As a yearly tradition at the school, during the week before the internship period began, graduating seniors would set up stalls along both sides of a designated road on campus, selling things they couldn’t take with them. Textbooks, reference notes, basketballs and footballs, daily necessities—the variety was dazzling, attracting many junior students to hunt for treasures. From early morning, the entire road would be packed with people.

The doctor and his roommate Chun Ge had also set up a stall with old items, selling them symbolically for three or five yuan each. With so many similar competitors around, the sports equipment had been swept clean, while other items remained untouched.

They weren’t in a hurry though. Their internship positions were already secured, making them more leisurely than others, which is why they’d been recruited as vendors. The money from selling old items wouldn’t be much anyway—they’d use it to fund their dormitory’s farewell dinner.

Like someone with OCD, Chun Ge arranged everything on the plastic sheet neatly before satisfactorily dusting off his hands. He watched the doctor repairing an alarm clock nearby and frowned: “I heard you’ve secured an internship position? At the city hospital?”

“Pretty much settled. I’ll go for the final interview next Monday, should be fine.” The doctor had been incredibly busy these days, falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow each night. This was the first chance he’d had to chat with Chun Ge about this matter. Hearing this, he wore an expression of disappointment: “Why don’t you come with me to that place? With your grades, if you work hard, you should be going to a Grade A tertiary hospital.”

The doctor helplessly rolled his eyes. His good friend was sometimes just too naive. Did he think prestigious Grade A tertiary hospitals were places you could just walk into for internships? His grades weren’t the best in medical school, and he had no connections in hospital leadership to consult or ask favors from. He was running around like a headless fly—finding a Grade B tertiary city hospital willing to take him was already quite good! Besides, he was still somewhat anxious about his abilities. He’d heard competition in hospitals was particularly fierce, and wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Starting from a lower position to accumulate experience wasn’t bad—he could climb higher once his abilities improved.

But he knew Chun Ge meant well, so he slowly explained his thoughts. Chun Ge, however, still couldn’t accept it. In his view, retreating before even trying was simply cowardly behavior.

The doctor was powerless to refute and didn’t know how to argue back. Chun Ge came from a medical family and had been immersed in the field since childhood. Everything he saw, heard, and experienced involved top-tier hospitals, so naturally his thinking was completely different from ordinary students. Meanwhile, the doctor had lost both parents and struggled alone in this city without any backing, naturally prioritizing stability.

With different perspectives and understanding, neither could convince the other—communication was impossible. The doctor knew Chun Ge actually wanted to work at the same hospital, but reality wasn’t a fairy tale—how could it be so easy to achieve? The doctor patiently listened to Chun Ge’s nagging for a long time before finally putting down the alarm clock and making an excuse about browsing other stalls, leaving Chun Ge to watch their booth.

Though surrounded by noise, the doctor found peace. He had initially come out just to wander casually, but as he browsed, he couldn’t help becoming serious—he wanted to buy so many things!

But wait, he was here to sell old items, not to buy more old items to take back! The doctor restrained his shopping impulse and wandered from one end of the road to the other, discovering a somewhat special stall at the far end.

The booth had a cardboard box with “Charity Sale” written on it. The vendor was a male student with a buzz cut, explaining the situation to inquiring students gathered around. Only then did the doctor learn that these old items were the belongings of a medical student who had died in a car accident. The deceased student was named Yin Han, an outstanding student ranked among the top in medical school. Apparently, he had already secured an internship at the same Grade A tertiary hospital Chun Ge was going to—a true academic achiever. Unexpectedly, fate was unpredictable, and he had passed away so young.

Yin Han’s parents lived in a remote mountainous area. They had come to the school to handle formalities, taken his clothes as mementos, and returned home. The remaining books, textbooks, and miscellaneous items were left behind. His roommates decided to hold a charity sale of these belongings, with the proceeds to be sent to Yin Han’s parents.

The buzz-cut student was average-looking but eloquent, quickly persuading the gathered students to open their wallets. Nothing on the booth had price tags—everything was pay-what-you-want. Medical students had dissected corpses, so naturally they wouldn’t find the belongings creepy. Moreover, since Yin Han had good grades and studied seriously, his textbooks and notes were quickly snatched up, and even stationery items were mostly sold. By the time the doctor squeezed through, the booth was nearly empty.

Many students stuffed money into the cardboard box even without taking anything. The doctor also pulled out his wallet and stuffed in a red bill. He knew Yin Han too, though they weren’t close—just nodding acquaintances—but he was willing to contribute what he could. Perhaps because the denomination he contributed was rather large, the buzz-cut student saw him turning to leave and quickly pulled him back, urging him to choose something from the booth.

“Consider it a keepsake—we were schoolmates after all.”

The buzz-cut student was indeed persuasive. The doctor couldn’t help but turn back to scan the remaining items on the booth, finally picking up an antique-looking lamp. This lamp resembled an old kerosene lamp, less than twenty centimeters tall, made of bronze with some patina from age. It had six sides, but only one side was covered with paper—the other five sides were opaque black glass. It looked antique and elegant, yet had an electrical plug, though it was probably broken.

“Oh! Excellent eye! This was Yin Han’s favorite lamp—supposedly a revolving lantern. Originally it used candles, but later the dormitory banned open flames, so he converted it to use a light bulb himself. Supposedly it rotates automatically when plugged in.” The buzz-cut student was eloquent, though he said “supposedly” it could rotate automatically—he hadn’t actually paid attention to whether it really worked.

The doctor didn’t mind. Since he’d picked it up, it would be awkward to put it back down. He had the buzz-cut student find a plastic bag and carried it away.

When he returned from his wandering, Chun Ge didn’t bring up their previous topic again, but instead teased him about buying another impractical old item, urging him to just put the revolving lantern out for sale.

The doctor refused. He wanted to see what this revolving lantern would look like when plugged in. That evening, back in the dormitory, he eagerly plugged it in. The revolving lantern wasn’t broken—it flickered once before lighting up with a warm yellow glow that softened one’s mood. On the single paper-covered lampshade, a paper-cut picture appeared.

“Huh? What’s this picture showing?” Chun Ge leaned over to ask.

The paper lampshade was somewhat yellowed and wrinkled from age, but one could still make out that the paper picture showed two people on the left and a departing horse on the right.

“Two people and one horse—following loyally? But the positions don’t match!” Chun Ge complained.

“It’s not a picture riddle for idioms.”

“…Didn’t they say this lamp was a revolving lantern that turns by itself? How come we haven’t seen it change sides after so long?”

The two waited in front of the revolving lantern for ages without seeing the image move, so they gave up hope. Honestly, the lamp being able to light up already exceeded their expectations. Besides, the revolving lantern’s glow was indeed warm and easy on the eyes, so the doctor didn’t turn it off and simply left it there as a bedside lamp.

Chun Ge counted the unsold old items and took his share home first. With graduation approaching, the school didn’t require graduating students to stay on campus daily. Living locally, he went home on weekends. After saying goodbye to the doctor, he left.

After spending two days at home, Chun Ge returned to the dormitory and froze upon opening the door, asking in shock: “Why are you still in the dorm? It’s almost eleven o’clock! Weren’t you supposed to go to the city hospital for your final interview today?”

The doctor looked up and frustratedly slammed the alarm clock onto the desk: “I thought I’d fixed this alarm clock, but it’s still broken—it didn’t ring at all this morning! I even set an alarm on my phone, but somehow I didn’t hear it either.”

“So… you overslept?” Chun Ge looked sympathetic. “Did you call the personnel department?”

“I did. They said the positions were filled and told me not to bother coming.” The doctor hung his head dejectedly. The interview was the final hurdle with a 70% acceptance rate. He had originally had a 70% chance of being accepted, but now that he hadn’t shown up, he didn’t even have a 1% chance.

Chun Ge didn’t know what to say for a moment. After sitting quietly with the doctor for a few minutes, his gaze fell on the revolving lantern on the desk and stopped. Perhaps because the revolving lantern’s glow wasn’t harsh, it hadn’t been turned off at night. “Oh! This lamp really can rotate by itself? The paper picture I saw before wasn’t like this, was it?”

The doctor glanced over listlessly and noticed that while the left side of the paper picture still showed two people, the right side now showed two horses running back. He didn’t care whether the paper picture had changed or not, sighing disinterestedly: “Maybe it’s different? Who knows—I haven’t been paying attention.”

Chun Ge felt the meaning depicted in these two pictures seemed familiar somehow, but couldn’t quite remember for the moment. After sitting a while longer, he suddenly noticed a folder—the doctor’s resume materials that were supposed to be brought to today’s interview but now lay quietly on the desk due to their owner’s carelessness.

“Sigh, you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you? I’ll go to the cafeteria and bring back some rice with toppings.” Chun Ge quietly picked up the folder and put it in his backpack.

“Oh, thanks. Get me spicy diced chicken and tell the cafeteria workers to add extra chili peppers.” Despite his bad mood, the doctor still had plenty of demands when it came to food.

“Got it, got it! Wait here!” Chun Ge grabbed his bag and headed out.

The doctor felt like he was in a dream these past few days. After missing the city hospital interview, he was listless all day, but then received another interview notification call that evening.

It was actually the provincial hospital where Chun Ge was going! Chun Ge’s explanation was that Yin Han, who was originally supposed to go to this hospital, had died unexpectedly, leaving a vacant position. He had used his family connections to submit the doctor’s resume, but whether he could get in still depended on the doctor’s own efforts.

The doctor knew that although Chun Ge spoke lightly about it, he had definitely called in a huge favor. Thinking he must find a way to repay this kindness later, the doctor accepted this timely help.

The interview went very smoothly. The doctor signed the employment contract on the spot and treated Chun Ge to a big dinner that evening. In their joy, they drank lots of beer and supported each other back to the dormitory, where the revolving lantern on the desk was glowing with gentle warm light.

“Hey! This lamp is great! It can serve as a night light—no need to turn on the harsh overhead light when getting up at night.” Chun Ge sat drunkenly in his chair, leaning over to look at the revolving lantern, then froze: “This lamp really can rotate by itself! Look, the paper picture has changed again!”

The doctor walked over and indeed saw a different paper picture—it showed a person who had fallen from a horse, holding his leg which appeared to be displaced. The doctor instinctively diagnosed: “This person’s leg should be broken, but this posture is wrong. He shouldn’t be holding the broken leg like that, or the bones will be misaligned and unable to heal properly. If handled incorrectly, there will be complications.”

Hearing this, Chun Ge rolled his eyes: “Come on, are you so obsessed with preparing for interviews that you’re analyzing a paper picture this thoroughly?” The doctor’s drunk head was dizzy, and after a brief moment of clarity, it was muddled again: “You… you keep looking. I’m going to wash up and sleep.”

But Chun Ge felt more and more that something was off: “Hey! Do you remember the previous two paper pictures? What did they show?”

“Two people one horse, two people two horses, and now one person one horse.” The doctor summarized each picture with four words, identifying key points quickly and accurately—truly someone experienced with exams.

Chun Ge muttered to himself, then suddenly slapped his thigh: “This is… ‘The Old Man at the Frontier Lost His Horse’!”

“Yes! The two people refer to the old man and his son. The first paper picture shows the old man’s family losing their horse, the second shows the lost horse bringing back a fine horse. And now this one shows the old man’s son breaking his leg while riding the fine horse. Tsk, this revolving lantern depicts the story of ‘The Old Man at the Frontier Lost His Horse.’ Quite fitting indeed!”

“Huh? It really is.” The doctor nodded. “‘The Old Man at the Frontier Lost His Horse’—who knows if misfortune is actually fortune? Fortune and misfortune are interdependent. Hehe, this is quite similar to my situation these past few days! Look, didn’t I miss the city hospital interview because my alarm clock was broken? But who would have thought I could still get into the provincial hospital!”

Chun Ge looked at the grinning doctor with a complex expression, having to pour cold water on him: “If we follow this logic to its conclusion, then what you should encounter next is misfortune.”

“…Are we even brothers? How can you say such scary things?” The doctor sobered up halfway instantly.

“Hehe, just joking!” Chun Ge didn’t take his own words seriously either. After chatting a while longer, they went to wash up and sleep separately.

Only the revolving lantern remained, casting its ethereal glow in the dark night.