Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1614: Outside the Rabbit Hole

‘Where… Where am I?’

Lin Sanjiu awoke with a start, her heart pounding fiercely, her palms cold with sweat. It was her heart, her palms; her body had returned. No, it seemed as if it had never left, as if she had once again perceived her own body.

Before her vision cleared, Lin Sanjiu had already jumped up; by the time she steadied herself, she realized her neck was still twisted to the right, as if still looking in the direction where Rena had been.

Turning her head, as her breath steadied, she gradually saw more clearly.

A dozen or so steps in front of her, Wu Yiliu was sitting on a large stone among the trees. Leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, his hair soaked and clinging to his cheeks; a faint white mist was continuously whipped up from his shoulders and back, like a halo, gently enveloping him.

His face was pale from the rainwater, droplets falling continuously from his nose and chin, although there was not a drop of rain at that moment.

Thinking of this, Lin Sanjiu was slightly startled and hurriedly looked at her own arms and body, confirming that they were indeed dry.

She looked up; a pale, faded white moon floated on a sea-like black night, and the vast, deep forest silently sank into the sea’s depths.

She was too familiar with this place. Lin Sanjiu just couldn’t understand why she and Wu Yiliu had suddenly returned from Twelve Worlds Centrum to the forest where the camping cabin was located. Moreover, there seemed to be an invisible storm, violently battering this forest, but the rain only affected Wu Yiliu in front of her.

This scene also felt eerily familiar.

“Wu Yiliu?” Lin Sanjiu called softly, feeling as though many years had pa.s.sed since she had been able to move her legs again. “Is that you?”

She could sense that it was indeed Wu Yiliu, although she wasn’t quite sure of his appearance. He must have looked in the mirror during those years, but the images reflecting his face, like eating and grooming, were fuzzy and unclear.

The young man seemed not to hear her call. She approached and finally noticed that his thin lips were moving slightly, as if he was speaking, but no sound came out.

Lin Sanjiu carefully squatted in front of him.

She was beginning to understand.

She looked down at her hands—they were no different from the last time she saw them. Round nails cut short, jagged edges, not smooth. Her hair was also the same, barely touching the collarbone; carelessly cut, divided into two layers, the upper half short, the lower half long.

She had not spent several years with Wu Yiliu; otherwise, her nails and hair would not remain at this length.

“Wu Yiliu,” Lin Sanjiu called softly, “can you hear me? Is this… is this your memory?”

The young man continued to speak silently, oblivious to her presence. Although his body was indeed sitting there, he seemed like a pale shadow floating in the water, as if one touch would cause him to dissolve into ripples.

Lin Sanjiu carefully watched his lip movements for a moment and roughly reconstructed his words.

“Professor Qiao was sitting on the sofa with her hands around a teacup, looking as if the entire room was her own sanctuary…”

She s.h.i.+vered, gooseb.u.mps rising.

This was the scene when Wu Yiliu sat in the forest under the heavy rain, telling “Abby” about his old world. She had once experienced the Changeling world through that narration and memory—Lin Sanjiu suddenly stood up, stepping back quickly, quickly looking around.

This is indeed the scene of Wu Yiliu’s memory; perhaps the Wu Yiliu sitting on the large rock is an image constructed from his memory, because when people recall the past, they won’t appear from the perspective of others.

Where is this place? What does it mean?

Where did the grand prize go?

In a short period of time, Lin Sanjiu “lived” through several years of Wu Yiliu’s life, and for a moment, her original thoughts and memories seemed a bit incoherent; she only just realized now that she was with the grand prize—ah, not just the grand prize, there was also the Veda form of Yu Yuan before she was engulfed by the suddenly broken cosmic s.p.a.ce.

At first, she seemed to have fallen into a city street; after taking off her s.p.a.cesuit, she wandered for a while, not knowing how she suddenly entered Wu Yiliu’s memory. As for the grand prize and Yu Yuan, she didn’t even know where to look.

With full of doubt, she carefully reached out and touched the Wu Yiliu on the large rock. She had never experienced this kind of touch in her life before: not the warmth and flesh of a real human body, but something soft, light, and fleeting, like a touch of some novel sensation. If light were made into a soup, perhaps this would be the feeling.

She should have never seen or touched Wu Yiliu himself, but somehow lived through his memory, and the real Wu Yiliu could be in any corner of the vast world.

Since it’s not him in person, she couldn’t inquire about the whereabouts of Rena.

However, at least she knew that Rena was in Twelve Worlds Centrum—Lin Sanjiu suddenly frowned.

Huh?

In which of the twelve worlds?

Strangely, thinking about it now, Wu Yiliu’s memory spanning forty months never once mentioned which Twelve Worlds Centrum the “driver” pocket dimension was in. Even years later, when he got the visa, that part of the memory was blank about the world’s name—as if a hole had been dug out of his memory.

That’s not right, is it?

Lin Sanjiu looked at the young man. He still sat in the invisible storm, presumably reliving that past over and over, entering the pocket dimension again and again, seeing Changelings again, constantly recalling his old world.

She suddenly thought of Qiao Yuansi, the female professor she had never really met, who had vaguely told Milan that she was worried about Wu Yiliu; there seemed to be some tragedy or disaster hidden in his future, and the source was himself.

When Lin Sanjiu witnessed Wu Yiliu killing Pence and planning to starve everyone, she felt a chilling sensation towards him; but now that she had awakened from that past and looked at the non-existent “Wu Yiliu,” she felt an impulse to open an umbrella for him and s.h.i.+eld him from the storm.

He didn’t seem to have any grand plans or wisdom in the rain; he was so thin and fragile, trembling lightly in the cold rain, as if he had never left his old world, and the present Wu Yiliu was just a shadow cast by that boy.

In the end, Lin Sanjiu did nothing. She just chose a direction where the forest gradually thinned and went on her way, leaving the rain-soaked “Wu Yiliu” behind.