A Chan – CH 047

Chapter 47: Going Home with Him (1)

The rain was getting heavier. A black sedan stopped beside the ramp leading to the river-crossing tunnel.

Zhang Jingchan looked down at his watch: “Half a minute left.” The veins on the back of his hand, gripping the steering wheel tightly, stood out.

Time was of the essence. After learning the details of what happened back then from Ding Chenmo, Li Weiyi called her mother and sister to ask about the situation.

Then, the two rushed here. Time was of the essence, and they couldn’t investigate who was responsible for the impending traffic accident.

…

They stood at the traffic light intersection where the tragedy should have occurred for three minutes, watching the flow of people emerge from the subway station and cross the road, watching the cars come and go calmly. Only when the horns of the cars behind them blared deafeningly did Zhang Jingchan step on the gas and turn away from the intersection.

Li Weiyi couldn’t accept it: “Why didn’t he come? Why isn’t he coming?”

She was prepared to be hit and sent flying, but the culprit had stood her up!

Zhang Jingchan’s two sword-like eyebrows furrowed slightly as he pulled the car over to the side of the road, about fifty meters from the intersection, without turning off the engine, his eyes fixed ahead. Inspired by his alert calm, Li Weiyi held her breath and craned her neck to wait.

Two hours passed.

Still nothing; the car didn’t appear.

Zhang Jingchan: “Let’s go back.”

Li Weiyi rubbed her eyes: “Aren’t we going to wait anymore?”

“It’s past midnight,” Zhang Jingchan’s voice was calm. “It’s a new day.”

Li Weiyi was taken aback.

However, Li Weiyi hadn’t expected that Zhang Jingchan’s “go back” meant taking her back to his home. It was a well-known upscale residential area in the city center, consisting of several cold, opulent high-rise buildings. Zhang Jingchan parked the car in the garage, swiped his card, and led her into the equally luxurious elevator.

His home was on the 31st floor. Upon entering, Li Weiyi was struck by its immense spaciousness. The living room was enormous, sparsely furnished, and almost empty. The riverside was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering panoramic views of the riverbanks, illuminated by twinkling lights, like a giant scroll painting unfolding.

Zhang Jingchan handed her a pair of men’s slippers: “I don’t have women’s slippers; this’ll have to do.”

“It’s alright.” Li Weiyi, shuffling in her slippers, ran to the window and looked outside. Zhang Jingchan watched from behind, a fleeting smile crossing his dark eyes.

Li Weiyi, having experienced a day of intense emotional turmoil and then standing guard at the intersection for two hours, was now listless and unwilling to think about the future. She simply gazed silently at the breathtaking view through the window.

After a while, she turned around. The living room contained only a gray two-seater fabric sofa, a small coffee table, and not even a chair. On the table sat a plate of sliced ​​oranges, a cup of tea, and a steaming glass of milk. Zhang Jingchan patted the sofa beside him, gesturing for her to sit down.

Li Weiyi suddenly remembered their cuddling on the sofa earlier that day, and her legs went weak. She dared not go over. But there was nowhere else to sit; to be coy and not go would seem presumptuous. On a sudden inspiration, she strode over and plopped down on the floor beside his feet, looking up with a grin and saying, “I love sitting on the floor! Your wooden floor looks so comfortable.”

Zhang Jingchan glanced at her, said nothing, and tapped the glass of milk with his fingers.

To hide her embarrassment, Li Weiyi downed most of the milk in one gulp and slammed the glass down on the coffee table.

He stared at her with his dark, cold eyes: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll drug you?”

Li Weiyi’s heart skipped a beat. She forced a laugh, then downed her milk in one gulp, saying, “How could I? Haha, if you drugged me, I’ll admit it.”

A smile slowly bloomed in his eyes. Being at home, he seemed to relax, leaning back in the comfortably upholstered sofa, his long legs casually spread, shirt collar open, neck tilted back, and hands resting on the sofa.

Li Weiyi glanced at him a few times, then quickly lowered her gaze. She thought to herself, “Food and sex are human nature.”

“This is the second time I’ve seen you… No, the first time for you,” Li Weiyi said. “That is, the time the murderer committed the crime was pushed back a day.”

Zhang Jingchan nodded, indicating he understood.

“Do you have a pen and paper?”

Zhang Jingchan brought a pen and paper from the room. Li Weiyi wrote:

First time:

January 12, 2022

January 11-13, 2014

Second time:

January 13, 2022

March 11-13, 2014

Third time:

January 13, 2022 (Failed)

May 11-13, 2014?

She said, “Could it be that if we go back to 2014, each time we’d be two months apart, and each time we could only stay for three days? And in 2022, if we postpone it by one day, will the car accident happen? That is, tomorrow? “

Zhang Jingchan, holding his teacup, thought for a moment and said, “2014 followed the pattern. But now, in 2022, it isn’t certain.”

“Why?”

“Because what determines the 2014 part is entirely time, an uncontrollable, unknown force. But the car accident in 2022 was caused by a specific person.”

Li Weiyi was slightly taken aback.

He was right.

“Then, can we assume that if we didn’t actively seek out the car accident, the time travel would never happen again? Or, if the perpetrator changes his mind and doesn’t appear again, we’ll never have another chance to go back to the past?”

“So what we need to analyze is the perpetrator. Why did he postpone his appearance by one day last time? And why didn’t he appear this time? In other words, who is he? And why did he come?” Zhang Jingchan said. Li Weiyi exclaimed, as if struck by a sudden realization, “That’s right! You’re really smart!”

Zhang Jingchan gazed at the woman sitting cross-legged at his feet. Her face shone brightly in the lamplight, her eyes sparkling. She seemed born cheerful; no matter how sad or depressed she was, when she looked down and then up again, a light would rekindle in her clear eyes.

He said, “You aren’t bad either.”

A profound wisdom appearing as foolishness—light and insightful.

Li Weiyi dismissed it as mere politeness, waving her hand and asking, “Do we have any way to find out who that person is?”

“I’ll try tomorrow, but I doubt it’ll be easy. We only know the car model. If it’s local, I can try contacting the dealership. But if it’s a used car, a cloned car, or a car from out of town, we won’t be able to find out.”

Li Weiyi frowned. “Do you think this perpetrator has any connection to us? Otherwise, why would it be the two of us who time-traveled?”

Zhang Jingchan had never considered this possibility. He had been focused on finding the person through physical evidence—license plates, surveillance footage, and criminal records. He paused for a moment, then a sudden flash of insight struck him; certain scattered, seemingly insignificant clues were strung together by Li Weiyi’s words. He said, “Perhaps the murderer is connected to the Fuming Group?”

“How so?”

Zhang Jingchan took the pen from her hand and wrote two dates on the paper: December 10, 2014, and December 27, 2014.