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A fleeting glimmer flashed within her left eye, and through her pupil, one could glimpse a tiny, wandering point of light swirling within—that was the particle consciousness. Aiwen’s awareness experienced the world projected through her eye. Sensations transmitted through her skin reached the neurons, from there to the cerebral cortex, and the particle consciousness felt everything she felt: the caress of sunlight, the chill of clear water flowing over her hand, the fragrance of fresh flowers brushing her nose—so vivid, as if Aiwen herself were present. In the real world, only a few months had passed, but within the Duxiang time, the concept of time was uncertain; it might have felt like days or hours, all depending on Aiwen’s subjective sense.

She lived in a unique world, moving through Xian Xiaoya’s vision and mind, their communication constant, fostering a deep familiarity and tacit understanding.

In a few short months, Xian Xiaoya applied herself to the university coursework she had long neglected. She refused to give up on herself, committing to study anew, working diligently in the restaurant without forgetting her promise—to improve herself, she must continually learn. She re-enrolled in adult university, choosing a practical major, returning to the accounting specialty she had once abandoned. Perhaps due to her tireless dedication, she experienced episodes of cardiac arrest resembling the consciousness-switching phenomenon during her half-year of study; fortunately, prompt medical intervention averted disaster. For caution’s sake, Aiwen scoured the internet for leading experts on such conditions, gathering abundant information, then taught Xian Xiaoya how to regulate her heart health. Often, emotional states or poor routines were the greatest culprits. Through disciplined living and healthy habits, Xian Xiaoya’s symptoms vanished. She came to appreciate the preciousness of health—it is only with health that one can forge a brighter future.

Unwittingly, three years passed. Xian Xiaoya progressed from an ordinary technical diploma to a bachelor’s degree through self-study. Practice made perfect: her accounting skills flourished, and with a craft in hand, she no longer feared hunger. More and more companies sought her bookkeeping services. In her spare time, she pursued her interests—physics, the basics of quantum mechanics, the composition of matter, research into human consciousness, cutting-edge technologies like brain-computer interfaces and artificial intelligence—all of which left a deep impression on her during her chance encounters with Aiwen over the past three years. She was determined to understand them all. The world was so marvelous, filled with endless wonders. Since meeting Aiwen, her love for life only deepened. She accepted that she ought to seek out the novel and unknown—there was so much, so very much to discover.

At this moment, she was leafing through a popular science book about space and time—the term people often called “spacetime.” Aiwen had once said spacetime could fold; Duxiang time was not the real world but could also fold. According to Aiwen, three years ago, Holen had suddenly vanished outside the laboratory, ending the consciousness-switching experiment. Xian Xiaoya also learned from Aiwen that it was she who hacked into the SNS Experimental Center’s surveillance footage and discovered that Holen had disappeared into thin air. The scene defied belief—there appeared only a fleeting slit, a minuscule gap like a silver thread, barely visible to the naked eye. Aiwen believed that the mysterious fissure was not of the present, but perhaps—from the future.

2035.10.25

“Welcome to the new SNS Experimental Center.”

Holen slowly opened his eyes to a vision of immaculate white—a sealed chamber?

“Doctor, you should notice that here, we have more advanced experimental equipment. You will no longer be restrained. Here you can fully realize your potential,” intoned a three-dimensional voice reverberating around him. Holen searched for the speaker, hearing but not seeing anyone.

“What is this place? What do you mean by the new SNS Experimental Center?” Holen pressed, but received no answer.

After answering a mysterious phone call, he had expected to meet the caller in the woods behind the center—the one who claimed to have a solution to his father’s withdrawal of funding. Half-believing, he had hurried out, but in a daze, he was seized by a blinding light and drawn into a fissure, as if his entire being twisted like a thread and was pulled into the gap. When he opened his eyes again, he was in this strange place—

Before him was a bright, sealed, utterly white chamber—empty, yet filled with virtual apparatuses. A mere touch would activate them, and as he operated the devices, the space evolved, unfolding ever more complex and advanced instruments. Holen had never seen such mysterious—high technology? Some instruments bore a resemblance to those he had used, but these were far more sophisticated, their appearance minimalist yet intricately complex, and their intelligence astounding—more precise and intuitive than anything Holen had ever known.

Suddenly, clusters of particles appeared, swirling and morphing, combining and separating to form various symbols and words. Ultimately, the evolving text took a form Holen could read: “Welcome to today, fifteen years in the future.”

2037.4.11. Inside a café, afternoon

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A middle-aged woman with shoulder-length hair walked slowly into the café. She looked around, searching for the one she was to meet. After scanning the room, she spotted a young woman by the floor-to-ceiling window—more striking than she had imagined, her mixed heritage setting her apart from the crowd.

The middle-aged woman approached and smiled, “Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you Lawrence?”

“Yes, hello, Miss Xian Xiaoya. Please, have a seat!” Lawrence replied with a smile.

The years had left their mark on Xian Xiaoya, but though her features had softened, her temperament only grew more refined. She was now among the top three chief senior accountants at a world-renowned firm. Yet, her greatest secret was known to none. Seventeen years later, a stranger contacted her—Lawrence, sitting before her now. The reason for their meeting was a single name: Aiwen. In the end, Xian Xiaoya could not resist and arranged to meet at this café.

With just one glance, they understood everything.

A flicker flashed in Xian Xiaoya’s left pupil.

“It seems Aiwen is here as well,” Lawrence said, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Xian Xiaoya was taken aback, then the next instant, she saw a glimmer flicker in Lawrence’s right eye—a point of light circling within her pupil too.

“Is that—a particle consciousness?”

“That’s right. In truth, today—we are four, not two.”

“Who else?”

“Your friend and mine,” Lawrence answered, gazing intently at her.

“This… is simply unbelievable…” Xian Xiaoya’s awareness instantly connected with Aiwen on the other side.

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In the world of Duxiang, she saw Lawrence in person.

“It is an honor to meet you,” Lawrence said, extending her hand to Xian Xiaoya. The two exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes sharing silent conversations with the other two within, and soon all four were smiling—

2037.4.16. A university classroom, morning

In a public lecture hall, every seat was filled. Among the audience was a young girl in a Scottish plaid shirt and blue jeans, her hair naturally wavy and falling just below her shoulders—she looked every bit a university student. She was taking notes, but a closer look revealed she was not recording the lecture’s content.

She was sketching a symbol, her hand gradually bringing it to life: two hands clasped around a scepter’s handle.

This emblem had long ago appeared on the computer systems of the SNS center—a pair of hands grasping a scepter, the insignia of the Scepter Corporation. When the girl finished, she lifted her head, revealing a young, slightly mixed-race face. Her gaze shifted to her right eye, plunging into her pupil.

Within, a scene unfolded—a vast workshop filled with strange and marvelous machines. The vantage point soared above, sweeping across the plant, rapidly surveying every process until it settled on a tightly shut mechanical door. The door bore the emblem of the Scepter Corporation.

Suddenly, the image vanished—

The End