Half an hour later.

Zhang Jingchan and Li Weiyi sat back on the master bedroom’s large bed. He had one arm around her while his other hand held the golden Buddha.

The golden Buddha was the size of Li Weiyi’s thumb. It had now been split into two halves, revealing extremely small, folded white paper inside.

There was a shopping mall near Li Weiyi’s home with a gold shop inside. They had just returned from the gold shop.

The paper hidden in the golden Buddha’s belly was clearly made of special material, thin as a cicada’s wing. When gently unfolded, it was as large as an A4 sheet. Eight years had passed, yet it showed no damage and the writing remained clear.

“Achan, Weiyi:

When you read this letter, I should already be dead. Perhaps I’ve been dead for many years.

Today is August 19, 2014. I’ve made three copies of all the evidence I’ve collected. I’m keeping one copy, planning to hand it to the police after successfully selling the futures in mid-September. The second copy, I’ve given to Li Jinxiong to safeguard. The third copy, I’ve buried in Li Weiyi’s family courtyard.

I don’t know why, but even though this should be a sure thing, the closer we get to September, the more uneasy I feel.

I’ve dreamed more than once of my own death. Sometimes I dream that all my hair has turned white and I’m lying in a strange, dilapidated house—the taste of drinking pesticide is truly unbearable, my intestines and stomach rotting through. Sometimes I dream of jumping from a building. Sometimes I dream of lying in the villa in Yanghuai, being held down and force-fed medicine, then waking from heart pain. Sometimes I dream of fire everywhere, unable to find a way out no matter what…

Perhaps some people’s fates cannot be changed. You’ve changed so many things, yet only my death has never changed. This might be heaven’s punishment for my past greed, stupidity, and selfishness.

You’ve traveled through time again and again, suffering so much, even nearly paying with your lives, all to correct the mistakes I made, all to keep me alive. Achan, Father already knows he was wrong. You taught Father to trade futures, allowing me to atone for my mistakes. Father is truly grateful to you and proud of you.

But this time, if Father still dies, my only wish is that you don’t come back anymore. If I manage to take down those beasts in 2014, that would be the best outcome and you won’t need to come back. If I don’t succeed, then find the third copy of evidence and hand it to the police—that will be enough to convict them, just a few years later.

Don’t come back to 2014. If saving me would put you two in danger again, I’d rather be dead.

Achan, I’m very happy you could wake up. Li Weiyi is a very kind and loyal girl—treat her well from now on. And your mother—if I die these years and you’re a vegetative patient, she’ll probably make a complete mess of her life. Don’t blame her. All these years, I’m the one who spoiled her into having this princess personality, and I was happy to do it. Buried together with the evidence is a bank card. The password is your birthday, and it contains five million yuan I managed to set aside. Use this money as startup capital to restart your career. My son is different from me—he’s a dragon who can soar through clouds and accomplish great things wherever he goes.

Achan, Weiyi, remember my words. Don’t come back. End the cycle. Go live the lives that belong to you.

Your father: Zhang Moyun

August 19, 2014.”

When Li Weiyi saw the instruction to “end the cycle,” her eyes grew hot. The son tried every way possible to save his father’s life, but the father’s dying wish was for his son to live a peaceful, normal life.

Zhang Jingchan lowered his head. His hand left Li Weiyi’s shoulder as he folded the letter and put it in his pocket.

“I’ll go back to Chen City tomorrow,” he said.

“I’ll go with you.” Wanting to cheer him up, she shook his arm and said, “With this evidence, when we travel back through time, we can send those people to prison.”

Zhang Jingchan poked her forehead with his finger and said, “Are you being silly? Setting aside the fact that we can’t bring 2022 items back with us, we just said we’ll return to September 11, 2014, when my father and Uncle Li both have evidence in their hands. This copy won’t be needed.”

Li Weiyi froze.

Zhang Jingchan rested one arm on his raised leg, his eyes distant as he said, “This evidence—he only left it for 2022, hoping I could fulfill my wish and stop entering the cycle.”

Li Weiyi pressed his arm and leaned over to give him a light peck on the lips. He turned his eyes to look at her.

Just this small action had exhausted all of Li Weiyi’s courage. Even her ears turned red, but her voice was as soft as water, “Then let’s travel back through time again and make him so angry he stomps his feet, okay?”

Zhang Jingchan stared at her intently and laughed.

He lowered his head close to her reddened ear, “Okay.” His breath brushed against her ear and neck, making her entire body tingle. She instinctively wanted to dodge, but he had already begun his mischief—seemingly biting yet not quite, seemingly licking yet not quite—playing with her ear. His body also tilted slightly as his two hands pressed on either side of her body, encircling her in his embrace.

Li Weiyi couldn’t handle this at all. Even her toes went numb. She pleaded with a trembling voice, “Achan, it tickles… do you have hooks on your tongue?”

Zhang Jingchan was both annoyed and amused. But this single utterance of “Achan” in such a delicate, tender voice sent an extremely pleasurable tingling sensation across his back, that fatal feeling rushing from his tailbone all the way up to his neck. He exhaled deeply, looking at the woman in his arms with flushed cheeks and glistening wet eyes. He fiercely took another hard bite of her ear, then spread and clenched his ten fingers, spread and clenched them again. Finally, he released her, lay back beside her, and said, “Sleep!”

Li Weiyi blinked, looking at his obviously tense neck and his not-so-pleasant expression. She said “Oh” obediently and also lay down.

After the two were quiet for a while, Li Weiyi burrowed closer to him again, resting her head on his arm. He immediately raised his hand to let her pillow on it.

“Go sleep in your own room,” Li Weiyi pushed him.

He said, “Don’t provoke me.”

So Li Weiyi fearlessly rubbed her face against his neck, “How am I provoking you? You’re the one whose spirit is willing but flesh is weak, right?”

He looked at her heavily, then suddenly grabbed her hand and reached under the covers. The moment Li Weiyi touched it, she snatched her hand back, her face flushing red as she buried it in his chest.

“Weak?” He snorted.

Li Weiyi had no response to that.

Zhang Jingchan slowly exhaled several more breaths, finally calming down. Seeing her still burying her face like a quail, even her slender neck tinged with pink, he laughed lowly. He raised his fingers and gently stroked her neck, saying, “Sleep well.”

“Mm!” she answered in a muffled voice, “Who’s not sleeping well?”

He still tireless stroked her skin, saying in a low voice, “After we travel back through time this time, I won’t be a vegetative patient anymore, and my body will recover to be the same as before.”

Li Weiyi nodded, “That’s good then.”

Seeing she hadn’t understood his meaning, Zhang Jingchan just smiled. He pulled the covers over both of them but didn’t dare hold her while sleeping. He only held her hand, “Good night.”