Time Travel

On the day my lady and I fled, I went east while she went west.

Dressed in her clothes and carrying her token, I drew the pursuers away for her.

At death’s door, I was rescued. My lady’s betrothed mistook me for her.

Badly wounded and stripped of my memories, I was cherished by him and carefully nursed. He even married me.

Five years later, he brought back a battered woman. It was my lady. Convinced that I had deceived him, Qi Yu hated me to the bone and sent me to my death with a cup of poison.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I lured the enemy away for her.

I returned her clothes and token, then smiled and told her: “Go east. And don’t look back.”

July 14, 2018. My flight was delayed due to weather, and I didn’t land until three in the morning.

As soon as I turned on my phone, I received a call from my senior. He told me to get to Baoshan Hospital immediately. Now!

I asked him what was wrong, telling him to explain himself first.

“Xiaoyu,” he said. “Something happened to Xiaoyu.”

My ears began to ring, and a splitting headache took hold.

That day was the third anniversary of my relationship with Qiu Xiaoyu. If the plane hadn’t been delayed, I would have proposed at midnight.

At four-thirty in the morning, I saw her at the hospital.

She was covered with a white sheet. Her exposed skin was deathly pale, and when I took her hand, it was cold and stiff.

It didn’t feel like Xiaoyu’s hand at all.

But the autopsy report stated it clearly: Qiu Xiaoyu had died in a car accident at 6:10 PM at the intersection of Qinghe Road and Wenshuo Road.

“It was a truck. The driver was exhausted and didn’t slow down before… Li Tong!” My senior suddenly grabbed my hand tightly.

My hand was just about to lift the white cloth covering Xiaoyu’s face.

“Let go,” I said.

“Li Tong, it’s better… if you don’t look.”

Choking back a sob, I repeated, “Let go.”

He stopped blocking me.

I slowly pulled back the sheet.

She was still beautiful, her features soft, just like when she tried to sleep in every morning.

Only, there seemed to be a wound on her neck.

And that wound extended downward. It grew deeper and larger, until her entire body…

Was completely destroyed.

I collapsed to my knees.

It felt as if a knife had been driven through my heart. My eyes stung, but there were no tears, and I couldn’t make a single sound.

“Did you forget our anniversary? You have to make it up to me tomorrow.”

I knew it was an auditory hallucination; those were the words from the WeChat message Xiaoyu had sent me.

The final WeChat message of her life.

Our entire story had somehow ended on such an unremarkable sentence…

Suddenly, my throat tightened, and I retched, vomiting up mouthfuls of bile.

Wei Ze’s first love got divorced after her husband cheated on her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he broke up with me and posted to his social media feed:

“I really wish I could go back eight years and change Xu Nianxia’s fate so she never married that scumbag.”

Xu Nianxia was the woman he had never stopped pining for.

Later, he and I both traveled back in time to eight years ago.

He set out to change his first love’s fate of marrying a scumbag.

I set out to change my fate of being with him.

My mother was the discarded wife of a marquis, and everyone was waiting to laugh at her.

Yet she refused to give them the satisfaction.

She neither made my father regret casting her out nor won the heart of some handsome man.

She left the capital in disgrace, looking like a homeless cur.

Years later, I was betrothed to the son of an earl’s household.

Noble though his birth was, his endless visits to brothels had left him riddled with disease.

On my wedding day, I sat in the bridal sedan, about to take my own life.

Then horses reared and people shouted outside, throwing the procession into chaos.

The marquis’s discarded wife had returned—to steal the bride.

In my senior year of high school, the school beauty, Song Shuyao, once came to me to borrow money for medical treatment and asked me not to tell anyone.

As it turned out, she used it to get an abortion. She hemorrhaged and died on the operating table of a shady little clinic.

Years later, Lu Jingnian-the untouchable top student everyone had once admired from afar-pursued me obsessively and proposed to me.

Then, when I was eight months pregnant, he locked me in a basement in the suburbs.

He cut open my belly while I was still alive and said, “This is what you owe Yaoyao and our child.”

Only then did I learn that before Song Shuyao died, she had held his hand and told him not to blame me.

But he was convinced I had deliberately killed the woman he loved and their child.

That day, I died under Lu Jingnian’s butcher knife, my eyes wide open in hatred.

Then, carrying a hatred vast enough to drown the heavens, I returned to the day Song Shuyao came to borrow money from me.