Traveled through time (2/2)
But the man’s reaction was nothing like he expected.
Gu Yilan’s brows knitted slightly. His eyes, deep and contemplative, fixed on some point on the bed sheets as if staring into emptiness. His emotions seemed calm, revealing nothing of what he was thinking.
Su Zesui felt like a fish on a chopping board, waiting for the knife to fall.
Silence stretched across the room. He didn’t know what to say. He looked at the oxygen cylinder still warm from the man’s touch and took another few careful breaths.
“So, when you asked me yesterday whether we had met before, was it because you were afraid I might have had interactions with the you from before the time travel?” After thinking it through, Gu Yilan pinpointed the heart of the matter with precision.
Su Zesui muttered, “Yeah.”
“No need to worry about that,” Gu Yilan said.
Hearing this, Su Zesui’s heart sank. His pale, delicate fingers instinctively clenched, pulling the deep-blue sheets into anxious folds.
“We knew each other before,” he said nervously.
Gu Yilan’s lips parted slightly, ready to speak, but froze when he heard the boy’s words. “Hmm?”
“In my… previous world,” Su Zesui continued, “you gave me a voice recorder too.”
Gu Yilan’s gaze paused for a moment. A faint trace of surprise flashed across his eyes, but his expression remained unchanged.
His Adam’s apple moved as he said, “Parallel worlds work like that. Perhaps there’s also a version of me in your world. The fact that you were able to travel through time shows that the two worlds are very similar. The me you knew back then is probably not much different from the me now.”
Everything was finally clear, settled. Su Zesui struggled to catch his breath and began trembling again, physiologically overwhelmed.
He dropped the oxygen cylinder and, without thinking, grabbed Gu Yilan’s arm. “Th-then, can I return this body to the me of this world? How do I… how do I return it? Do I just have to… explode again? Is that it?”
“Suisui, calm down,” Gu Yilan said in a low, steady voice, radiating an inexplicable sense of reliability. “I already told you, there’s no need to worry about that. Because, essentially, the two of you are the same person.”
Su Zesui froze mid-action, looking at him in confusion. His voice trembled. “N-no…”
“Yes,” Gu Yilan said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Do you remember what I said about the principle of time travel?”
Caught off guard by the question, Su Zesui blinked. He had been lost in his emotions and hadn’t absorbed the explanation. Now he could only look down and fidget with his fingers.
Gu Yilan repeated calmly, “There is no such thing as a soul in this world. You are able to time travel because of ‘state reproduction.’
Every particle in your body has a coexisting quantum state.
When a quantum state collapses, your overall state is fully replicated or mapped onto the state of another parallel universe, and that’s how you travel through time.”
“In other words, every particle in your body now is identical to the you from the world you came from. You live in two universes, but coincidentally, you are exactly the same person in both.”
Su Zesui lowered his head. “B-but we’ve had different experiences, and our memories aren’t the same…”
Gu Yilan asked, “What is consciousness? What kind of things can acquire it? Have you heard of Holism?”
Su Zesui shook his head.
Gu Yilan ruffled his hair and explained, “Human thought doesn’t come from a single cell—it arises from the arrangement and combination of countless cells.
The key is in the ‘arrangement,’ not the ‘cells’ themselves.
It’s like the words I’m saying now—they carry information, but that information comes from the way the letters are arranged. It has little to do with the individual letters themselves; it’s all about their ‘arrangement.’”
Su Zesui let out a soft “Mm” and fixed his gaze on him.
Gu Yilan continued, “Consciousness, in essence, is just the arrangement and combination of atoms. During the process of traveling through time and space, it’s a ‘state reproduction’ on a microscopic scale. This means that the arrangement and combination of atoms in your body are exactly the same. If the arrangement is the same, the consciousness is the same. So if your consciousness is identical, why aren’t you the same person?”
The man’s words made sense, but Su Zesui still felt panicked. He whispered, “But in the dream just now, he… um… told me to leave his body.”
Gu Yilan smiled wryly. “Dreams are just a manifestation of the subconscious. The things you fear the most in your heart often appear in your dreams.”
Su Zesui was gasping for breath, his heart racing, his mind dizzy as he tried to process the immense information and complex emotions.
At that moment, the master bedroom door was knocked on.
The butler’s voice came from outside: “Young Master Gu, the guest you scheduled has arrived.”
Gu Yilan acknowledged with a quiet “Mm,” and said to the butler, “Have him wait in the living room for now.”
Su Zesui gently pushed him. “Who… who is it? You should… go see him. I need to… think for myself…”
Gu Yilan raised his hand and wiped the tears from the boy’s cheeks, returning the oxygen cylinder that had been set aside into his arms. “Don’t cry.”
Only then did Su Zesui realize he had been crying again.
He clutched the oxygen cylinder, fumbling to wipe his tears, words tumbling out incoherently: “I’m sorry… it’s just so sudden… I’ll think it through… I’ve caused you trouble… I…”
Gu Yilan raised a finger and pressed it gently against the boy’s lips, cutting off his panicked apologies.
“No rush. I’m going to see the last person the Gu family wants me to meet. Once that’s done, and I’m free from their control, we’ll have plenty of time.”
Looking into Su Zesui’s eyes, Gu Yilan said calmly, “You can take your time figuring out who you are, what you’ve gone through, and whether you want to be with me. I will also confront my own illness and try to live—live until… the day you tell me your decision.”
In truth, the reason Gu Yilan had come this far with Su Zesui was largely due to the boy’s psychological condition and amnesia.
Su Zesui had recently lost his memory, leaving his world empty. Gu Yilan had entered at that vulnerable moment, securing a place in the boy’s life.
But once Su Zesui regained his memories and restored his former self—his personality and emotions—would he still choose Gu Yilan? That remained uncertain.
Yet Gu Yilan had no regrets.
He respected every choice Su Zesui would make.
“Don’t… don’t go.”
Su Zesui had already classified Gu Yilan’s parents as potential threats. Hearing that Gu Yilan intended to meet someone they sent, he instinctively shook his head, fearful that his parents might have sent an assassin.
“Are you made of water?” Gu Yilan said with a hint of amusement as he grabbed tissues from the bedside and gently wiped away the boy’s unstoppable tears.
Su Zesui let him, but still clutched at him, saying, “Don’t go… he’ll hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll wear a bulletproof vest,” Gu Yilan joked.
When he controlled the situation, Gu Yilan never left any room for danger. For this meeting, he had already ensured the bodyguards checked the visitor for weapons.
“I’m going ahead. You calm yourself and take your time regaining your memory. Actually, my personal advice,” Gu Yilan paused briefly, then continued, “is to make major decisions—like whether to accept my pursuit—only after you’ve fully recovered your memories.”
. . . . .
Downstairs in the living room, a young man dressed entirely in black, with a black mask and hat, sat on the sofa. He looked about Gu Yilan’s age but carried a slightly worn and disheveled appearance.
The butler stood rigidly nearby, eyeing him like he was a threat.
With measured, steady footsteps, Gu Yilan finally descended the stairs.
The man in black turned his head, his eyes curving into a smile. “Gu Yilan? Long time no see. I hope all is well.”
Seeing those familiar eyes, Gu Yilan’s steps faltered ever so slightly, then quickly regained composure. He walked over and sat across from the man.
Pressing his thin lips together, Gu Yilan lowered his voice. “It’s not easy for them to get you here.”
“Finding me is easy. I have nothing to hide, unlike the guilty. Why should I be sneaky?” The man in black shrugged.
Gu Yilan’s expression remained unchanged. Leaning back on the sofa, he calmly told the butler, “Serve tea for our guest.”
. . . . .
Su Zesui, still uneasy about Mr. Gu, despite his physical and mental discomfort, wanted to go see him.
He dabbed at his tears with a tissue, telling himself to set aside these confusing, abstract matters for now. There were more important things to focus on.
A few minutes after Gu Yilan left, Su Zesui quietly followed.
He crouched at the corner of the spiral staircase he usually used for eavesdropping, leaning out just enough to peek into the living room downstairs—
Mr. Gu was lounging lazily on the sofa, his gaze calm, as if he were merely receiving an ordinary guest.
Sitting across from him was a man in black, but something felt off. He was dressed entirely in black from head to toe, wearing a mask and a hat to hide his face—it was clear he wasn’t here for anything good.
Su Zesui gripped the small oxygen cylinder in his hand, a thin layer of sweat forming on his palm.
In fact, the corner where he was hiding was quite obvious. The moment he appeared, Gu Yilan noticed and raised an eyebrow at him.
Su Zesui waved back, a casual greeting.
Fortunately, Gu Yilan’s presence was always so strong and imposing that it usually left visitors struggling to even catch their breath, let alone snoop around the house.
So far, no one had realized he had been eavesdropping.
Feeling a bit bolder, Su Zesui leaned out a little further, making himself more visible.
Apparently needing some hot tea, the man in black finally removed his mask and casually took off his baseball cap, placing it on the coffee table.
From this angle, Su Zesui still couldn’t make out his face clearly, but he noticed that the butler standing nearby visibly froze, as if he had seen some unimaginable monster.
Seeing the butler react that way, Su Zesui couldn’t help but feel anxious, worried that the man in black might suddenly attack.
He had a small oxygen cylinder in his hand. Though it was a mini version, it was sturdy. If the man in black went berserk, he could quickly run downstairs and throw the cylinder at him.
Downstairs, after placing the mask and cap, the man in black tilted his head to adjust his messy hair.
Su Zesui craned his neck and squinted, finally catching a glimpse of the man’s profile—but his eyes immediately widened in shock, and he froze in place.
He was socially anxious and had met very few people since coming to this world.
But he had seen this man before.