Sixteen Years

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Fu Yan opened his eyes.

There was a barely noticeable grayish-yellow stain on the snow-white ceiling, and the round ceiling light was on, emitting a brightness that was a bit harsh for him.

A mist of haziness filled Fu Yan’s eyes, and he felt the prickling sensation brought on by the light.

Lost in thought, he gazed at the ceiling, not even reacting to the idea of closing his eyes to avoid this minor discomfort.

He seemed to be close to a bustling urban area; faint cries of street vendors could be heard from the partially open window. The sickly sweet aroma of cheap sweets seeped into the room through the window cracks, like hooks, arousing a reaction in Fu Yan.

He blinked, and tears welled up in his eyes. Gradually, his senses returned, and he closed his eyes, finally awakening from the state of half-deathly daze.

A normal day, Fu Yan thought, but didn’t I die?

The thought flowed naturally, and Fu Yan remained surprisingly calm. He slightly bent his knees and sat up from the bed, enduring the dizziness as he lowered his head to look at his own hands.

Except for a shallow scar on the back of his right hand, there were no other injuries.

His arms and legs were all intact, and nothing was missing from his body. Fu Yan lowered his head to inspect himself, realizing he was wearing a plain pajama T-shirt with the blanket piled around his waist, looking as though he had just woken up from a nap.

The ceiling light emitted a gentle, bright white light, and after staring at the bedsheet for a while, Fu Yan’s eyes felt a bit strained. He furrowed his brows and pinched his temple, his mind nearly blank.

The sticky aroma of cotton candy from outside the window was soon replaced by the scent of another food—strong barbecue aroma wafted in the air, mixed with the oily scent of beef and mutton, weaving its way into the room.

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Fu Yan’s face suddenly turned pale, and he threw off the blanket and rushed into the bathroom. He just managed to lift the toilet lid before bending over, vomiting uncontrollably.

His stomach was empty, and he couldn’t expel much, just a few mouthfuls of acidic water.

Fu Yan couldn’t stop vomiting, but his nausea was intense. The scent of meat seemed like poison to him, making him wish he could rip his stomach out and flush it down the toilet.

After over a dozen minutes, Fu Yan finally caught his breath. He put down the toilet lid, leaned against the cold ceramic wall, and leaned on the toilet tank.

The whites of his eyes were tinged with red blood vessels, and he slightly frowned, turning his head and sitting on the floor, unable to stand up, looking quite disheveled.

But this couldn’t be blamed on him—after all, half an hour ago, he had just experienced his own death.

Fu Yan panted heavily, squinting as he surveyed his surroundings.

This seemed to be a guest house-type hotel, cleaned up quite neatly. The bathroom had a floral aroma from the diffuser, smelling refreshing.

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Under the mirror light at the nearby sink, there was a small electronic clock, and the time on it blinked, striking a full hour. The date below lit up with the hourly chime, and Fu Yan, with his excellent vision, easily saw the small text.

[May 16, 2027.]

This year was three years before the last memory Fu Yan had. He lowered his eyes for a moment, then realized what happened in this particular year.

If he remembered correctly, during this time, he should have been on medical leave due to injuries.

Six months ago in this year, Fu Yan carried out a test flight mission as the top pilot in the first squadron. He was supposed to collect live data for a new research aircraft. However, the test flight encountered some issues. The radar signal suddenly cut off when entering mountainous terrain, and some of the digital equipment on the test aircraft went haywire. Even the central control panel didn’t respond.

Fu Yan switched to manual mode, but he still couldn’t save the plane. He had no choice but to parachute out.

After that incident, he received praise and was granted several months of leave. If it weren’t for the world-changing accident that followed in the next months, he should have been promoted when he returned to duty.

June 1st, Fu Yan thought.

In just over half a month, a rare and highly contagious virus would break out. Infected individuals would exhibit symptoms like anxiety, madness, bloodlust, and attacking others. Initially, these symptoms were mistaken for rabies, but a few days later, the infected would develop the “zombification” condition—rigid bodies, yet retaining the ability to move even after brain death.

Before the “zombification” condition spread, Fu Yan always thought that post-apocalyptic disaster movies were just a form of popcorn entertainment. However, when reality struck, he realized that reality was far more terrifying than his imagination.

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The disaster unfolded so rapidly and mercilessly that they had no means to resist—it led to a sharp decline in the global population, numerous cities being abandoned, and people retreating from urbanized living.

They were caught off guard by this unexpected catastrophe and could only retreat step by step.

Up until the moment of Fu Yan’s death, the disaster continued, and no one knew when it would end.

Fu Yan’s thoughts paused for a moment, then he had to recall the matter he had temporarily ignored—he was already dead.

Half an hour ago before he woke up, he and his team members were trapped in an abandoned building. In order to send out research data from a medical building, he left the main force alone and lured the zombies into a twin-level building.

He had intended to escape through the twin-level passage after luring away the zombies. However, the building had been abandoned for a long time, and the passage was blocked by heaps of discarded building materials. From the outside, it looked fine, but it was completely blocked on the inside, and not even a fly could get through.

Fu Yan was already injured at that time, and the knee of his left leg had been shattered by a sharp piece of iron. Moving was already difficult, and after struggling for ten minutes, he couldn’t hold on anymore and ended up trapped in a corner of a laboratory.

It wasn’t a good memory. Fu Yan furrowed his brows, his throat rolled for a moment, and he couldn’t help but turn his head and vomit a couple more times.

This memory was still “fresh” to Fu Yan. Now, when he closed his eyes, he could still vividly recall the feeling of being pressed to the ground by layers of zombies and being torn apart.

The stench of decay lingered around him, and the foul saliva fell on him. At that moment, he didn’t die immediately, and he clearly felt how his flesh was bitten piece by piece.

Fu Yan instinctively covered his stomach and vomited even more fiercely.

However, he didn’t stop, but rather indulged himself, replaying this memory in his mind three times until he became desensitized to it. Then he wiped the corners of his mouth and pressed the flush button.

Fu Yan staggered to his feet, glanced at the mirror on the washstand before heading out.

In the mirror, the person looked handsome and tall, but his complexion was somewhat pale, with a faint shade of blue and black under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well.

Yet, even so, compared to three years from now, his current state could be considered quite good.

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At least his arms and legs were intact now, and he could temporarily relax, not needing to worry about where to go in the next second.

Fu Yan quickly averted his gaze, stepped out of the bathroom.

He didn’t know how he had woken up back three years back, but he wanted to understand why he had come back.

Outside, the sky was already darkening. Fu Yan walked over to close the window tightly, then turned on the air conditioning and lowered the temperature by two degrees.

Taking a quick survey of the room, he noticed his suitcase neatly placed against the wall. On the table, there was a kettle of hot water that had been boiled, with the lid left open. The thermostat was set at forty-six degrees, and thin wisps of steam were rising from it.

Next to the kettle, there was a sticky note attached to the tea bag box. Fu Yan reached over and took it, realizing that it was a handwritten note.

“Remember to take your medicine. If you’re hungry, order takeout first. I’ll be back once I’m done.”

The signature was a fancifully written “Liu” character.

Looking at the note, Fu Yan finally remembered where he was.

Back in April, after Fu Yan had fully recovered from his injuries, he was formally discharged from the hospital. As a result, Liu Ruosong also returned to work.

Before Fu Yan’s accident, Liu Ruosong, an outdoor photographer, had been invited by an animal protection organization to participate in an expedition to Kekexili. The purpose of this expedition was originally to document the trip for magazine materials. Unfortunately, due to rushing back to take care of Fu Yan, Liu Ruosong’s part of the documentation was repeatedly postponed and was only recently rescheduled.

Due to work commitments, Fu Yan and Liu Ruosong rarely had the chance to be together, so this time Fu Yan had a rare few months of leave, and he decided to accompany Liu Ruosong on the trip.

Fu Yan had a good memory and his own unique way of recalling events. He could follow a thread of memories to piece together a sequence of events.

On “this day” of his previous life, Liu Ruosong was supposed to attend a magazine interview. Fu Yan should have gone with him, but he had woken up with a slight fever that morning. Worried about him, Liu Ruosong had left him at the hotel to rest and went by himself.

He was supposed to wait for Liu Ruosong to finish work and come back, but now he was feeling disoriented about his situation, so he instinctively wanted to go for a walk and see if things matched his memories.

According to the theory of time paradoxes, if you change the “history,” a completely parallel new world will emerge from the altered point.

Fu Yan didn’t know whether he had “started over” or was already on a parallel world, but he wanted to try and see if any deviations from his memories would have a small impact on the future.

He made up his mind but hesitated. For a moment, he really wanted to call the military district and warn about the disaster that would strike half a month later, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Firstly, he didn’t have any evidence at hand, and a warning made hastily might not have an effect. Furthermore, it might make others think he had some mental issue. Secondly, he wasn’t sure whether changing such a significant event would lead to a worse outcome.

After pondering for a while, he decided to start “testing” things from small matters.

So, Fu Yan got up, changed his clothes, took out two pills from the medicine box as instructed by Liu Ruosong, and then, relying on memory, he found his keys, phone, and wallet. He sent a message to Liu Ruosong.

“I’ve woken up and feel much better. I’m coming to pick you up now.”

This time, Fu Yan didn’t plan to wait in the hotel like he did last time. He intended to go out and find Liu Ruosong.