2022.

Tan Ziheng tore off the page for June from the calendar.

Lin Shilan had been in a coma for over a month. He came to the hospital to see her every day.

That she had become like this—Tan Ziheng always felt he bore inescapable responsibility.

He clearly knew Lin Shilan’s mental state wasn’t good, yet he still left her alone sitting in the private room at the seafood restaurant while he went out to order food.

When Tan Ziheng found her again, Lin Shilan was lying on the first floor of the department store. She seemed to have jumped down from upstairs. No one knew how she had entered the closed mall.

Fortunately, Lin Shilan only suffered minor injuries. However, she hadn’t woken up and remained in a sleeping state.

The words Lin Shilan said on the phone before the incident—Tan Ziheng was very troubled by them.

This past month, he had tried to figure out what had happened to her.

Tan Ziheng had searched for nearly everyone around Lin Shilan—Cao A’yi, her doctor, teachers at school, her former landlord… From their accounts, Tan Ziheng reconstructed the story of Lin Shilan’s past few years.

Four years ago, the flood left indelible trauma. Lin Shilan developed PTSD.

Rainwater could trigger her stress reaction, so every rainy season, Lin Shilan would fall into hallucinations. The heavier the rain, the more severe the hallucinations. In Lin Shilan’s fantasies, she could travel back to the former Yan County, back to before the disaster occurred.

When the rainy season came this year, Lin Shilan accidentally broke the bracelet she had worn for four years.

This bracelet held extraordinary meaning for Lin Shilan.

Due to psychological protective mechanisms, at one point she had forgotten the heaviest memory for her—that someone had sacrificed themselves to save her in the flood. She watched that person die with her own eyes and waited desperately for rescue.

The breaking of the bracelet made Lin Shilan remember the person who saved her. Because of this, her illness worsened. She even constructed a virtual companion called “Tan Jin” who accompanied her through the rainy season in her hallucinations.

Lin Shilan was trapped by her fantasy rainy season and fantasy companion, remaining unconscious until now.

Tan Ziheng didn’t know when the “Tan Jin” in her mind would be willing to let her go. Lin Shilan’s condition wasn’t optimistic. If this continued, her body wouldn’t be able to hold on.

July 1, 2022.

On Lin Shilan’s birthday, the rain stopped.

In the morning, Tan Ziheng came to the hospital as usual.

Pushing open the hospital room door, he saw the scene he’d most hoped for over the past month.

Lin Shilan was awake.

She had raised the bed. Where she lay, a ray of sunlight fell right on her shoulder.

She had been ill too long—her skin was deathly pale, her eye sockets sunken, already emaciated and gaunt. That head of beautiful black long hair had been dyed light chestnut by the sunlight, radiating a fragile golden glow.

Lin Shilan squinted her eyes, looking out the window—outside the weather was clear, the sunlight gentle and warm.

Tan Ziheng called her name, but she didn’t turn her head.

A subtle unease rose in his heart. She looked like a paper-thin piece of cicada wing, as if she would immediately be melted by the sun, slowly float up, and evaporate from the world.

Walking to the bedside, Tan Ziheng drew the curtains.

From regaining consciousness to being discharged, Tan Ziheng and Lin Shilan had chatted many times. But he hadn’t heard her mention even once that story about “traveling through the rainy season to a parallel spacetime.”

That story—she had told it to many people, over and over, tirelessly telling it.

Tan Ziheng, like everyone else who had heard the story, thought her story was full of holes and completely unreasonable.

Traveling to the past? The dead coming back to life? Parallel universes?

—Those only existed in science fiction novels. No one in reality had ever seen such things.

The real world had only one sick Lin Shilan.

The frightening thing about the mentally ill was this: she was logically rigorous, articulate, and the phone call she made to him was genuinely emotional. Tan Ziheng had almost been convinced by her, almost believing that Tan Jin hadn’t died.

Seeing that she no longer spoke nonsense or discussed her delusions, Tan Ziheng secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Lin Shilan’s mental state now was very good. She ate meals on time and received IV drips. Except for her body being slightly weak, she was already completely a normal person.

On the day he picked her up from the hospital, Tan Ziheng noticed Lin Shilan was very focused on looking at her phone.

He sat beside her and asked curiously: “What are you looking at? So seriously?”

“Looking for graduate school entrance exam materials,” Lin Shilan said earnestly: “I’m planning to take the graduate entrance exam to switch majors. I want to study physics and astronomy in the future.”

Planning to take the graduate entrance exam was a good thing. Tan Ziheng smiled: “Why are you suddenly interested in physics?”

He glanced at her phone—the page was densely packed with text all related to graduate entrance exams. Tan Ziheng’s attention was drawn to the search history beside the phone browser.

[Five-dimensional space]

[Four-dimensional space]

[Parallel spacetime]

[Descending Stairs Amusement Park]

[Amusement park Yan County]

Before Tan Ziheng could finish reading, she turned off the phone screen.

Lin Shilan said: “The universe is vast. Humanity’s understanding of it is just the tip of the iceberg. Many mysteries remain unsolved. I want to study and research deeply. Taking the graduate entrance exam is laying a foundation for the future.”

“Xiao Lan, I saw your search history…”

Parallel spacetime—these four large characters made Tan Ziheng alert, afraid she had relapsed. He probed indirectly: “Descending Stairs? Five-dimensional space? What are those?”

“Descending Stairs is a magical night amusement park I’ve been to. After my search, I can’t find this place in either present or past reality. I’m guessing the park exists in five-dimensional space.”

“We live in three-dimensional space. Other dimensions—spaces parallel to us—we cannot see. In other words, the existence of parallel worlds is four-dimensional. And beyond parallel worlds, some places, some consciousness—they exist in the even higher five-dimensional space.”

Tan Ziheng’s expression was blank. Lin Shilan explained her words more simply.

“Compare our world to a line. All parallel worlds are countless lines. The night amusement park and the consciousness of the departed are in between the lines. They don’t belong to any single line, don’t belong to any single parallel world, but they exist. Since they exist, there must be a way to find them.”

Lin Shilan spoke with certainty. Tan Ziheng listened with alarm.

He studied science and engineering. The concepts she spoke of—he had heard of them slightly.

The problem was, before these theories were “scientifically” proven, they were all “unscientific.” Tan Ziheng couldn’t agree with her, but he also couldn’t refute her.

She believed parallel worlds existed. She believed five-dimensional space existed. But he hadn’t seen them and couldn’t believe.

They were like two groups of people—”believers in God” and “non-believers in God”—unable to convince each other, unable to find evidence for their own side’s arguments.

Thinking of this, Tan Ziheng realized he had been drawn in by Lin Shilan again.

She was mentally ill, yet he couldn’t help but get serious with her again.

“Xiao Lan,” he sighed: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Lin Shilan was calm: “Brother Ziheng, there’s no need to understand.”

“This is inherently an extremely complex concept. Even the greatest scientists haven’t researched it thoroughly. No one can provide proof of whether parallel spacetime exists. What I’m saying is just my own presumptuous inference. Just whatever comes to mind I tell you. Much of it I’m also uncertain about and can’t explain clearly.”

She actually had self-awareness about the weakness of her argument. Tan Ziheng’s mood became even more complicated.

Putting her phone in her pocket, Lin Shilan patted his shoulder.

She began packing her luggage. When leaving the hospital, she had to take everything with her.

Tan Ziheng went outside to smoke a few puffs, composed his mood, then came back to help her pack.

“Brother Ziheng, do you have any extra bags? I have a few clothes that won’t fit in my backpack.”

Tan Ziheng looked left and right, then remembered: “Open the cabinet by the bedside. Behind the fruit basket there’s one of your handbags.”

“My handbag?” She put on slippers and walked toward the cabinet.

“Mm. I chatted with your former landlord—that old lady gave it to me.”

Recalling the old lady’s words, Tan Ziheng repeated them for her.

“She said originally she thought your bag had been thrown away by the cleaning company. Who knew her daughter-in-law thought the bag was quite large and kept it when moving to use as a shopping bag.”

Lin Shilan half-knelt on the ground, her back to him.

He saw her pull open the cabinet door and take out the bag.

Her hand reached into the bag, feeling around left and right several times.

Then Lin Shilan’s movements stopped.

She slowly lowered her head…

What Tan Ziheng didn’t know was this.

In Lin Shilan’s palm was a bead.

The bead was round and plump, with a warm luster.

It had seen the young man’s hidden feelings during the flower season; seen their secrets, seen her cry; seen the sweetness of first heartbeats, seen reluctant farewells.

It had witnessed the rain they walked through together.

After leaving the hospital, this bead was strung on a new chain. Lin Shilan once again wore this touch of gray-blue on her wrist.

She had never doubted Tan Jin’s existence.

He was an unsolved mystery in the humid rainy season.

Lin Shilan stepped forward from this patch of ground beneath her feet.

The universe was vast, the world chaotic; even if she spent her entire life and never found the answer, she already had enough calm to face it.