Once again back in the corridor.

Little Seven hummed that “Break bamboo, bind bamboo” ballad, swinging Mu Dai’s shoes in its hands.

Mu Dai looked down at her feet. This corridor wasn’t uncomfortable to walk on—having shoes or not seemed to make no difference. She casually removed her socks too, stepping down barefoot. The soles of her feet felt thin fine sand—those grains that had flowed down from the dial and were now under her feet, were they all her years, experiences, and life?

Mu Dai said: “Little Seven, you’ve told me many lies, haven’t you?”

Little Seven’s humming stopped abruptly, its voice sounding very agitated: “No way! I’m a good person!”

“So you’re saying you’re wholeheartedly trying to get me out?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Since you’re so good, why were you always harming people in that world, but here you’re acting like a bodhisattva? I’ve never heard of the Viewing Four Mirage Tower, but I know about mirages—those are virtual images formed by atmospheric refraction.”

“My real life is still in that world. The Viewing Four Mirage Tower is just a virtual image of my life—or rather, like a maze, and you’ve been interfering with me, blocking me, not wanting to let me out.”

Little Seven said: “Have I? Have I?”

Its thin long body went limp, collapsing on the ground like it was throwing a tantrum, seeming about to roll around on the floor: “You’re wronging me.”

Mu Dai said: “You’ve been with people too long, grown into human form, learned to speak human words, and even learned how to cleverly deceive and harm people. But whether a person is truly good isn’t determined by their own mouth, nor by acting cute and clever.”

She stepped over Little Seven, this time walking with certainty, unhurried and unworried.

Little Seven lay on the ground for a while. Seeing she wouldn’t turn back, it called out like a threat: “You’re wronging me! I won’t play with you anymore! I’m leaving, okay?”

Mu Dai ignored it.

Some demons have smiling faces and adorable behavior, but they’re still demons.

One of Little Seven’s arms slowly burrowed into the corridor’s mountain wall, its end floating up and down on the other side of the wall until it grasped another evil bamboo slip’s arm.

In a moment, it let out an eerie giggling laugh. Its thin arm suddenly retracted, then it got up and hurriedly chased after Mu Dai.

“Oh my, getting angry just like that.”

“Just a joke.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you the truth.”

Mu Dai stopped: “What’s the truth?”

Little Seven said: “The Viewing Four Mirage Tower has five entrances—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—like a pentagram. You five people are each walking such corridors, all approaching the center.”

“The center is the exit. The door is there.”

“If you arrive alone, the door won’t open. At least two people are needed, understand? At least two people for the door to open.”

Mu Dai weighed in her mind whether this was truth or lies: “Is this difficult? It sounds simple. Why couldn’t previous people complete it?”

Little Seven shrieked: “Is this simple? You’ve interfered with your past—it’s not that you can’t change things, but that events have too many possibilities. If Wenwen had run away instead of stupidly coming back to save you, wouldn’t your life have changed? Tell me!”

“You’re lucky—you’re still on the normal track now. But what about your friends? Can you guarantee they’re still heading in the same direction as you?”

Speaking to this point, its waist suddenly straightened, its thin arms pointing straight at the ripples beside them, stretched taut like a bowstring.

Mu Dai looked in the direction it pointed.

In the fragmentary ripples, she saw a familiar bar front.

Gatherings and Partings Follow Fate.

Instinctively, she looked up at the sundial’s surface. The shadow pointer was approaching a quarter of the dial.

Calculating by time, Yi Wansan should be working at the bar now, and she was about to encounter that… story about the evil bamboo slips.

Can you guarantee they’re still heading in the same direction as you?

Verify it, just verify it.

Mu Dai gritted her teeth, about to step forward, when Little Seven suddenly blocked her.

Its tone was cunning and gloating.

“I’ll tell you—before this, your life was basically repetitive. Repetitive means two, so when entering the ripples, there were two of you. If it’s no longer repetitive…”

“What happens if it’s no longer repetitive?”

Little Seven said: “Then there’s only one left.”

Mu Dai listened in confusion, hesitating as she stepped in.

Yunnan, Lijiang, blue sky, low clouds—this was a day with clear air, where you could faintly see Jade Dragon Snow Mountain’s peaks in the sky. She didn’t know if it was due to global warming, but Jade Dragon’s snow line was getting higher each year. Once, Hong Yi had even sighed, saying that in a few decades, there might be no snow left on Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.

Mu Dai pushed open the bar’s courtyard gate and entered.

Uncle Zhang was decorating the bar’s exterior wall, wrapping iron wire around colorful bottles and hanging them at various heights on nails in the outer wall. Seeing her, he cheerfully greeted: “Little boss lady.”

Mu Dai’s scalp suddenly tingled.

This was different from before. Uncle Zhang could see her—she didn’t need to enter that other Mu Dai’s body. There was only one self in the ripples. So this was what Little Seven meant by “no longer repetitive.”

Why was it no longer repetitive? What had changed?

She looked into the bar. At the counter, a bartender with bleached white hair and large silver earrings was shaking his head while practicing bottle juggling.

Mu Dai’s heart began pounding, her voice trembling as she asked Uncle Zhang: “Uncle Zhang, where’s Yi Wansan?”

Uncle Zhang looked at her strangely: “What Yi Wansan? I’ve only heard of Shen Wansan.”

Mu Dai’s heart sank.

Yi Wansan had never appeared.

This was the Viewing Four Mirage Tower for five people. In the final stretch, they had a shared life where any one person would affect the others.

Little Seven was right—this was a world full of variables and ten thousand possibilities, where five people were struggling against each other, not under her sole control.

Sweat beaded on Mu Dai’s forehead. Uncle Zhang suddenly pushed her: “Little boss lady, what are you spacing out for? The boss lady is calling you.”

Really? Mu Dai steadied herself, forcing a smile as she pushed through the door.

Huo Zihong waved her over, her tone gentle: “Mu Dai, help Hong Yi with a favor.”

She handed over a slip of paper: “Help me make a trip to Chongqing, to this address.”

Mu Dai looked down. At the end of that long string of addresses was a hastily scrawled note.

—Lao Jiu Hot Pot Restaurant.

Chongqing, Liberation Monument, cable car, Wan Fenghuo…

Mu Dai’s pupils suddenly contracted: that was where she first met Luo Ren and Cao Yanhua!

Back in the corridor, Mu Dai quickly examined the adjacent ripples—airport, hotel… there it was, Liberation Monument.

She stepped in.

It was morning. Thin mist hung over the river. The cable car had already started operating, and the first wave of sightseeing tourists was stirring.

Mu Dai couldn’t remember the exact time she had taken the cable car. Since she was here, she simply didn’t leave the station. When she reached the other side, she bought another ticket, rode back, then back again.

She put her phone in her outer pocket, with half of it showing. Someone tapped her shoulder—she thought excitedly it was Cao Yanhua, but it wasn’t. It was a gray-haired old man kindly reminding her: “Miss, you should put your phone away properly. It would be troublesome if it gets stolen.”

Mu Dai was extremely disappointed, so much so that she forgot to thank the old man for his kindness.

She forgot about her appointment with Wan Fenghuo at Lao Jiu Hot Pot Restaurant, mechanically riding the cable car back and forth. After several rounds, the cable car ticket attendant remembered her face and jokingly said to his colleague after she passed by again: “This girl isn’t going to ride until dark, is she?”

At noon, the mist cleared somewhat. The cable car swayed, the overhead cable rings creaking. Tourists around her were taking photos and playing, but Mu Dai was oblivious, staring blankly at the opposite cable car.

Luo Ren should have appeared by now, but he hadn’t. Several times, she saw Little Seven hanging grotesquely on the opposite cable, its body stretched out like it was doing gymnastics on parallel bars.

Her phone continued to show half out of her pocket, lonelily waiting for someone to steal it.

As evening approached, Hong Yi called asking if she had met Mr. Wan today.

Mu Dai softly explained: “Hong Yi, I don’t feel well today.”

She hung up immediately, afraid that if she continued talking, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from crying.

Around ten at night, the cable car stopped running. Mu Dai blankly followed the last group of passengers out of the station. The mountain city’s roads were full of ups and downs—she didn’t know where to go. After walking for a while, she sat down on roadside steps.

The wind picked up, blowing unswept garbage from the ground. Plastic bags floated past her eyes, leaflets rustled against the pavement, and the coming and going cars seemed to follow no order at all. Car lights crisscrossed chaotically, with harsh brake sounds from time to time.

Luo Ren hadn’t come, Cao Yanhua hadn’t appeared either. Their worlds had changed who knows how many times, while she sat here, at a complete loss.

There was rustling movement on the eaves. After a while, Little Seven’s football-shaped head hung down.

It said: “Oh well, things are unpredictable. This isn’t your fault.”

Mu Dai was silent for a long time before asking: “How is time calculated? About how long has passed in that real world?”

Little Seven said: “A year or two.”

A year or two that long? Would her body be covered in dust?

Little Seven said: “Are you going or not? Don’t be discouraged. Don’t you have a friend called Hong Sha? You know where she lives—you can go find her.”

Hong Sha?

Right, there was still Hong Sha. At this time, she hadn’t met Hong Sha yet. If she remembered correctly, before long she would beg her senior brother to find her suitable work, and he would take her to Kunming, to Old Yan’s house.

Mu Dai stood up excitedly, but after just taking a step, she hesitated and stopped: “What about Luo Ren and the others?”

Little Seven said: “Tsk, you’re still thinking about them. When they should have appeared but didn’t, their life trajectories have long twisted who knows where. Remember what I said—one person alone can’t get out even reaching the endpoint. At least two people are needed. You’d better pray you can find Hong Sha.”

It jumped down from the eaves, its arms suddenly extending to wrap around Mu Dai’s arm: “Let’s go, let’s go, hurry up.”

The ripples were ahead, fragmentary and flickering, like curtains hanging from the sky.

Brake sounds suddenly erupted, car lights flashed erratically. Mu Dai heard someone shouting behind her: “Little Master, Little Master, I’m Cao Pangpang!”