owlsbooks Chapter 513, 494: The lock is open.
Chapter 513, 494: The lock is open.
Chapter 513, Page 494: The Lock is Open
A small brass lock hangs on the side of the simple blue diary.
The lock body is simple and has a luster from the wear of time. What's strange is that the bottom of the lock is smooth and flat, without any trace of a keyhole.
Jiang Jianxin had pondered this countless times, but still couldn't figure out how to open the lock.
Now, she suddenly understood.
She simply clutched the diary tightly, leaned against the wall, and waited quietly, her gaze fixed on the brass lock.
Time seemed to be stretched and compressed, the surrounding light flickered, and the distant sound of traffic sometimes swept past, while at other times the low growl of a monster echoed in the deathly silence.
Suddenly, the screen of the old-fashioned phone in my palm flashed, and the date jumped back ten years.
Almost at the same instant, the tightly fastened brass lock in her eyes vanished silently.
There were no changes in light and shadow, no mechanical sounds, as if it had never existed, leaving only a very shallow dent on the side of the diary.
Jiang Jianxin's breath hitched suddenly.
The disappearance of the lock proves that the problem is not her mind, but the world itself.
Indeed, the timeline is sliding and intersecting in a chaotic manner.
She immediately opened the cover.
The written record of the past that was expected did not appear.
The first page contains only four sparse, ink-written characters:
The Guide to Foresight
Jiang Jianxin frowned and quickly flipped the page.
The next page featured handwriting that was both familiar and unfamiliar to her—the handwriting of the "prophet," her own.
When you open this diary, it means you've discovered the "nail." It's a reference point for the world, and also the only key to this diary.
My story can wait. Because right now, you are on the edge of the most dangerous precipice. The distorted timelines and timelines are enough to shatter even the strongest spirit in an instant.
More important than dwelling on the past is maintaining stability in the present. So, let's get straight to it.
The writing ends here.
"Shall we talk directly?"
Jiang Jianxin muttered to himself, his confusion deepening. How could he converse with a diary, with a "self" that existed in the past, perhaps merely a written record?
"Knock, knock, knock."
Just then, a clear and steady knocking sounded at the door. Exactly three knocks, neither too loud nor too soft. Immediately afterwards, a voice pierced through the door. The voice still held a touch of youthfulness, yet the tone possessed a calmness and detachment beyond its years:
"Hello. Am I, now grown up, not planning to invite my younger self in for a visit?"
Jiang Jianxin's pupils suddenly contracted.
Without hesitation, she put the diary on the bed, stepped to the door, and flung it open.
A little girl dressed in a plain white robe stood outside the door.
Her face was indeed the vague outline of her teenage years deep in her memory, still childish, but her eyes were calm, clear, and deep, as if they contained the entire starry sky, or as if they had already pierced through the mists of all time.
The pressure from that gaze made Jiang Jianxin instinctively straighten his back, and his tone became serious:
"...The Precognitive?"
Despite knowing full well that this was his past self, the strategist who was recorded in history as having made infallible plans and was feared by the geniuses of his time, the memories belonging to "Jiang Jianxin" have not been revived.
Facing this legendary "self," a mixture of respect and unfamiliarity made it impossible for her to relax.
Yu Zhijia nodded, his expression calm.
The way she spoke instantly reminded Jiang Jianxin of the God of Deathly Silence—a rationality stripped of most emotions.
However, there are subtle differences between the two. The God of Death is a cold emptiness that signifies the end of all things, while the tone of the Prophet reveals a rigorous logic.
"it's me."
Jiang Jianxin was still somewhat confused and tried to sort out the current situation:
"So... I really did travel through time and go back to the past?"
She vaguely remembered seeing a related discussion on some unscientific forum, which mentioned that it was actually impossible for two versions of oneself to coexist in the same spacetime.
However, what we see before us has undoubtedly shattered its theory.
Yu Zhijia raised his eyelids, his gaze seemingly able to pierce through Jiang Jianxin's chaotic thoughts:
"Two identical 'people' cannot coexist in the same space and time. Unless, one is a 'person' and the other is... a 'god'."
Jiang Jianxin paused for a moment, then immediately understood:
"Am I... that 'god'?"
Yuzhi nodded, then sighed and said:
"You have been gone for many years. Human beings cannot be resurrected. In the end, you were not resurrected. Instead, the timeline was reset time and time again, returning to the time when you were still alive to reincarnate and try to become a god."
"If you attain godhood, you will be free from the cycle of reincarnation; if you do not, you will fall into the cycle of reincarnation and become the very white ring of reincarnation."
Yu Zhijia looked at Jiang Jianxin:
"The fact that you can stand here already makes you a god, and your body is that of a god of death and silence."