Symphony of Destiny

The snow rustled softly, faint and fragmented.

Amidst it, a strange sound stood out more distinctly.

It resembled footsteps in the snow, yet something about it felt off.

Like a limping person trudging through the snow—each step uneven, one heavy, the next light.

This peculiar sound grew gradually louder, drawing closer, until even the crisp shattering of snowflakes against clothing could no longer drown it out.

Xia Yueshan heard it. Driven by instinctive curiosity, he turned his head slightly, wanting to catch a glimpse of the source of those odd footsteps.

Just then, a melodious ringtone chimed, interrupting his movement.

Xia Muzhu lowered her head and fished her phone from her bag. With a single glance, the faint smile always gracing her lips instantly brightened into delight. She held the screen up to Xia Yueshan, exclaiming in surprise:

"Look, Xiaoshan!"

"It's a WeChat call from your phone!"

"Wha—?"

Xia Yueshan’s attention snapped to the phone. Staring at his own grinning Pikachu profile picture, his face lit up with equal excitement.

"No way!"

"Did someone find my phone?"

"Must be," Xia Muzhu nodded with a chuckle, lightly tapping the screen to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi there."

"Did you happen to find this phone?" she asked gently.

A few seconds of silence passed on the other end before a voice—familiar to both—spoke up.

"Zhu-jie, it's me."

"Lin Yu?!"

Xia Muzhu’s voice surged with joy. She quickly pressed, "Is that really you, Lin Yu?"

Hearing the name, Xia Yueshan buzzed with excitement beside her, pressing close to his sister, his focus entirely on the phone. The creeping footsteps behind him faded from his awareness.

"It’s me," Lin Yu replied softly from the other end.

Xia Muzhu’s face glowed with unconcealed happiness. That Lin Yu had reached out unprompted thrilled her.

Yet she also knew Lin Yu wouldn’t call without reason. Gently, she ventured:

"Lin Yu, is there something you needed?"

"I—"

Lin Yu had barely uttered a word when Xia Yueshan suddenly cut in, shouting eagerly:

"Lin Yu-ge!"

"How’d you end up with my phone?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Xia Yueshan’s grin froze. A flicker of unease struck him.

Why was his phone in Lin Yu’s hands?

Flashback to Friday—just yesterday.

He’d realized his phone was missing after buying snacks from the school store, right after homeroom.

From the last time he’d seen it to when he noticed it was gone, barely an hour had passed.

And in that hour, he hadn’t left campus once.

How could his lost phone have wound up with Lin Yu?

That made no sense at all.

This was... beyond unreasonable.

Xia Yueshan’s faint eyebrows knitted tightly. The sheer illogic of it all stirred a vague foreboding in his chest.

Unbidden, his mind replayed Lin Yu’s earnest warning before... everything had happened.

To outwit fate, one must observe life meticulously, scrutinizing every detail—no matter how trivial—and remain a hundred and one percent vigilant at the slightest hint of anything amiss.

Perhaps only then.

Can we barely manage to stay one step ahead of destiny.

Lin Yu's words echoed in his ears, as if dispelling some unseen curse.

Xia Yueshan noticed it again—the irregular crunch of footsteps in the snow, uneven and erratic. This time, the sound grew faster, as if someone was now running, and worse, right behind him!

Xia Yueshan whipped his head around.

A face twisted with fury loomed inches from his own. A hand shot up, gripping a gleaming knife, its blade flashing coldly as it arced toward his throat...

...

"Ahhh!!!"

A piercing scream tore through the phone receiver, startling Lin Yu so badly he nearly dropped his phone.

"Yueshan!"

"Ah!"

"Shit!"

"!@@#!"

"Watch out!"

"!Blood#!"

"Stop fighting!"

"Stop fighting!"

"!#Damn it@#!"

"..."

The phone was a chaos of garbled shouts, sobs, shrieks, and agonized cries. Lin Yu froze, bewildered.

But realization struck fast.

Xia Yueshan and Xia Muzhu were in danger.

"Hey!"

"HEY!!"

"Sis Muzhu, are you there?"

"Say something!"

"ANSWER ME!!!"

His frantic yells reverberated down the hospital hallway, unanswered.

The sounds from the phone grew fainter, muffled—as if the device had been dropped in the snow. Or worse...

Lin Yu’s mind raced to the darkest possibility.

Had the attacker taken it?

No.

A sudden clarity hit him.

If the phone had fallen into the wrong hands, the call would’ve been cut immediately.

But it was still connected.

Which meant the phone was just lying in the snow.

The distant, muffled screams and shouts, like voices trapped under a blanket, sent a surge of helpless urgency through him. He had to get there—now.

But as he sprang to his feet, Lin Yu faltered.

Where was "there"?

He had no idea where Xia Yueshan and Xia Muzhu even were.

How could he reach them?

A wave of powerlessness crashed over him. His head spun, legs buckling as he slumped back onto the waiting room chair.

Was he really going to sit here, forced to listen to this nightmare unfold?

No.

Absolutely not.

Gasping for breath, Lin Yu racked his brain for any way to help the siblings.

Then it hit him.

The police.

But just as hope flickered, it died just as quickly.

How could he explain the situation to the police when he didn’t even know the location?

For a moment, despair threatened to drown him, crushing the air from his lungs.

"Call them anyway!"

"I have to call!"

"The police will have more resources than me!"

Lin Yu clenched his jaw, pulling out his phone. His fingers trembled as he dialed emergency services...

...

Lin Yu helplessly put down his phone. Just as he had expected, the police couldn’t dispatch anyone based on such vague information—no specific address, nothing. They only advised him to stay alert and update them immediately if there were any new developments.

The intermittent screams, curses, and Xia Muzhu’s tearful, blood-stained pleas from the phone left Lin Yu curled up on the rest chair, his heart drowning in helplessness and agony.

Time stretched endlessly.

At some point, the heavy snow must have buried the phone completely, cutting off all sound.

Lin Yu remained huddled on the chair, his pain numbing into a dull ache.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, a rustling noise broke the silence—as if someone had dug the phone out of the snow.

Lin Yu snapped to attention.

Pressing the phone’s speaker tightly against his ear, he held his breath, terrified of missing even a single syllable.

From the receiver came a voice, young but seething with rage—like a fighter who’d won a brawl but was still itching for more, now being dragged away mid-tirade:

“Fucking idiot!”

“Piece of shit!”

“I’ll beat you to death, you bastard!”