Chen Qin's Clock

"Mm."

"Mmm."

Ye Shuang slowly opened his eyes, greeted by a familiar, delicate face. The warmth of the coral surroundings and the body pressed against his seemed to confirm this wasn’t a dream.

"Did I really drift here?" he wondered, rubbing his temples.

Just then, Chen Qin suddenly let out a soft "Mm," giggling foolishly. "A-Ye, I’ll give you babies… ten of them… Ugh, twenty? Fine."

Ye Shuang: "…"

What kind of bizarre dream was this girl having?

He lifted his gaze slightly. The starry sky from last night had vanished, replaced by a clear blue expanse. Below, coconut trees swayed beside the ocean waves lapping at the shore.

The stars hadn’t disappeared—they were merely hidden for now, much like the girl’s feelings, which had always been there.

Ye Shuang tore his eyes from the distant view and turned to study the girl beside him. At that moment, Chen Qin’s information appeared:

[Character: Chen Qin

A woman utterly smitten with you. Last night, you just held her and slept without doing anything? Shame on you.]

Ye Shuang rubbed his eyes, wondering if he’d misread.

Was the system insulting him?

But he noticed a pink clock in the upper right corner, glowing brightly—completely different from An Shiyu’s.

Did that mean…

He could enter a specific moment in Chen Qin’s timeline right now?

Like last night?

Ye Shuang had no memory of what happened then. If he could revisit that moment, he might uncover some clues. And he could return immediately.

Might as well check it out.

After a brief hesitation, he decided to enter that space.

He glanced at the sleeping Chen Qin one last time before focusing on the pink clock.

The clock began spinning backward at an alarming speed—so fast it seemed to whirl dozens of times in an instant!

"Wait, this isn’t last night’s node? Where am I going?!"

"Bzz—"

In a flash, his vision blurred into white noise, his ears ringing.

……

……

……

The grogginess of waking from anesthesia washed over him. A familiar sound reached his ears—

Cicadas?

Back in the day, he’d hated how their chirping could drive a person mad. Now, it filled him with nostalgia.

"Kid, get up and eat! Hurry up!"

That voice—paired with the rhythmic knocking on the wooden door—

"Huh?!"

Ye Shuang’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright.

The small room had cement walls plastered with Slam Dunk posters and miscellaneous clutter. On the redwood nightstand sat a Nokia keypad phone.

A metal fan whirred nearby, blowing cool air.

"Where is this…?" He looked around in disbelief. Was he in—

Stumbling out of bed, he flung the door open.

Bang!

A middle-aged woman—short hair, apron, spatula in hand—jumped in fright.

"What’s the rush? Got a death wish?" Ye’s Mother snapped.

Ye Shuang stared at her, the woman etched into his memories, and croaked, "Mom…?"

"What? You in heat?" She pinched his ear and dragged him to the bathroom. "Brush your teeth! Chen Qin’s coming soon!"

"Ow ow ow… Mom, harder. I love it—just like this."

"Lunatic!" Ye’s Mother shoved him inside before turning to the man on the couch.

"Da Niu, your kid’s lost it."

"Just woke up, that’s all," the man chuckled, lounging in a white tank top and floral shorts.

Ye Shuang stood before the mirror, studying his youthful, handsome reflection in a daze.

But he’d pieced it together.

This wasn’t the shipwreck timeline. It was far earlier—back when his parents were alive, and he looked like a kid.

How old was he now?

He flexed his fingers, then glanced at the clock. It hadn’t budged, unlike before.

What was going on?

Did he need to meet Chen Qin for it to start moving?

After a hasty wash, he returned to find his parents already at the table.

"Mom."

"What now?"

"Pinch me again?"

Ye’s Mother reached out, concerned, and felt his forehead. Then she eyed Ye’s Father. "Should we make another? This one’s defective."

"You feeling okay, son?" Ye’s Father also found his behavior odd—the way he stared at them like long-lost relatives.

"I’m fine," Ye Shuang said.

But he had no appetite. He just wanted to memorize their younger faces.

He guessed he was about fifteen or sixteen—summer vacation, by the looks of it.

"Mom."

Sigh. "What?"

"If I ever fall for a girl and get left at the altar, promise you won’t come looking for me."

Ye’s Mother: "…"

She set her chopsticks down, genuinely worried. "You—"

"I mean it, Mom."

"Okay, I believe you." (Internally, she was googling psychiatric hospitals. Her son had clearly lost it.)

"Chen Qin would sooner let the sky fall than jilt you," Ye’s Father joked.

"Stop that," Ye’s Mother chided.

Ye Shuang blinked. They thought he meant Chen Qin?

Just then, the doorbell rang.

He opened it to find a black-haired girl beaming at him.

"Ye Shuang, morning!"

"Chen Qin…" The youthful, radiant version of her overlapped with the one in his memories.

"Huh? Move." Noticing his stare, her cheeks pinked as she squeezed past him, her softness and floral scent brushing against him.

"Uncle, Auntie! I brought ice cream!"

"Aiya, you shouldn’t have…"

"My dad bought a lot of Wuyang ice cream, so I brought some over," Chen Qin said with a smile as she chatted with Ye's Father and Ye's Mother. Meanwhile, standing behind them, Ye Shuang noticed something—

the clock had started ticking again.