Volume 1, Chapter 7: Spider Lily

Principal Shen Liang stood outside the main entrance of the auditorium, his bulky frame nearly as wide as the door itself. He fixed his gaze intently on Hu Chuan while quietly reporting something over the phone.

“The meeting has already started. Everything is running smoothly so far, no abnormalities.”

Inside the auditorium, the atmosphere was completely stirred up by Hu Chuan.

“I’ve also looked into the case of student Jin. To be honest, it pains me deeply. As the flower of our motherland, he lived in a soil that didn’t belong to him. If we could all start over, living the lives we truly desire, such tragedies would happen far less often. Isn’t that right, students?”

Normally, such routine lectures would be met with strong resistance from college students, but this uniquely thought-provoking topic sparked an animated discussion among them.

“What’s this old man trying to say? Is he talking about reincarnation? Is he here to preach?”

“Doesn’t he know there was a recent murder on campus? This is a very sensitive topic.”

“What nonsense is he spouting? I’d rather be playing games in my dorm than sitting here listening.”

Surprisingly, the old man was unfazed by these remarks.

“Everyone is free to interpret however they like. Let’s brainstorm and see who can come up with the most imaginative ideas.”

“Teacher, if there really were a potion to undo regrets, I’d go back three years to meet my freshman self and tell him not to worry—since nothing really sticks anyway, it’s better to just enjoy those three years to the fullest.”

“Right, I’d reject that guy’s confession to save myself a wasted year.”

“My biggest regret is coming to this lecture…”

The students’ spirits gradually lifted, except for Ran Yi, who stood frozen in shock.

Why did Hu Chuan speak in a way so similar to Jin Jingyang? The coincidence was almost too much to bear.

Even if Hu Chuan was unaware of the case, there was no way Principal Shen didn’t know what Jin Jingyang had said. Would the school not have reviewed the lecture content beforehand?

Fortunately, the lively atmosphere drowned out the embarrassment on Ran Yi’s face as students, long suppressed by academic pressures, eagerly answered questions one after another.

Ran Yi had hoped to escape scrutiny, but Hu Chuan’s gaze had already settled on him.

“The young man in the front row, why aren’t you more engaged? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No… no,” Ran Yi replied, sounding even more awkward.

Hu Chuan smiled gently. “Then you must be overwhelmed by your studies. Why not join this brainstorming session to relax? What are your thoughts on the earlier question?”

“Uh…”

In an instant, images flooded Ran Yi’s mind: Jin Jingyang questioning him, confrontations with the school and police, Jin’s parents, the figure disappearing in the internet café corner.

Jin Jingyang’s despairing last words echoed repeatedly in his ears:

“I just… can’t hold on anymore.”

Indeed, if Jin Jingyang’s suicide was certain, no amount of effort from Ran Yi at the time would have made a difference.

So he blurted out:

“I believe there is no afterlife, and the world doesn’t need a remedy for regrets.”

The room exploded with murmurs. Such a topic held vast imaginative space for university students.

Yet Ran Yi—the one they branded a villain—shattered their illusions.

Ran Yi continued, “Although I’ve recently experienced some unexplainable events, I remain a staunch materialist. First, no scientific experiment to date has proven the reality of our world or the existence of an afterlife or reincarnation. What we have is this one precious, fleeting life. Second, I believe that instead of placing hope in intangible fantasies, it’s better to focus on tangible actions.”

Just as he said, Jin Jingyang’s parents had repeatedly confessed their overly strict discipline, but it was already too late. If such issues only allowed students to briefly indulge in comforting fantasies without saving lives on the brink of collapse like Jin Jingyang’s…

“Then I believe such questions are meaningless.”

Ran Yi’s words immediately captured everyone’s attention again.

“How can he say such shameless things?”

“Maybe Jin was killed because of him. You can’t trust someone like that!”

Ran Yi clenched his fists, ready to respond and elaborate, but Tang Hui stood up.

True to her loyal nature, Ran Yi was about to thank her for coming to his defense, but she suddenly shifted her tone.

“I don’t agree with his viewpoint.”

Ran Yi never expected Tang Hui to openly contradict him. He whispered, “But I was just using Jin Jingyang’s case as a reference.”

“Yes, but your words are nothing but hollow rhetoric. You can’t truly understand Jin’s real thoughts.”

Tang Hui spoke firmly, showing no mercy.

Ran Yi froze, his face filled with confusion. The Tang Hui before him seemed increasingly unfamiliar.

Turning to Hu Chuan, Tang Hui discarded her usual rebellious demeanor and spoke respectfully:

“In my view, the hope for an afterlife is an indispensable human aspiration. Too many people live in spaces not meant for them, yearning to escape but seeing no way out within reality’s logic. To me, everyone wants to escape, everyone longs for a chance at rebirth.”

Ran Yi and the others were stunned, uncertain of her meaning, while Hu Chuan on stage applauded.

“The speeches from these two students were excellent. But as the first student said, rather than fantasizing, it’s better to take real action. Unfortunately, the first student isn’t well-versed in the latest scientific advances. If a so-called ‘remedy for regrets’ really existed, allowing everything to be redone, what then?”

“What do you mean?” Ran Yi stared in disbelief as Hu Chuan removed his suit jacket to reveal a white lab coat beneath.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Professor Hu Chuan from the Quantum Physics Institute at Fanlou University. It is an honor to be back at my alma mater, thanks to Principal Shen’s recommendation, to present my latest research achievement—‘The Other Shore’.”

At that moment, a large screen behind Professor Hu Chuan displayed an image of a spiral-shaped metal device. At its center lay a sealed metal capsule, surrounded by intricate instruments.

“Students may know that our brain’s neurons communicate through electrical signals. Within our brain is the hippocampus, which governs our perception of time. Clinical trials have shown that damage to the hippocampus causes disorientation of time perception, leading to mental confusion.”

“In the 1980s, Soviet scientist Kozirev attempted to disrupt spatial perception through mirror experiments, causing subjects to believe they were in different spaces and conjuring nonexistent phenomena.”

“Ten years ago, I boldly hypothesized: what if we simultaneously interfere with a person’s perception of time and space? Could we induce the illusion of existing in another dimension? Based on the latest quantum mechanics research from my institute, we can capture certain quantum vibration trajectories to record information, accurately describing the entangled state of a paired quantum particle. Thus, by capturing the subject’s disturbed consciousness via quantum means, and using precise instruments to trigger resonance with the entangled quantum pair in another spacetime…”

“In simpler terms, by capturing and mapping the quantum pairs you generate, we can recreate your consciousness in another dimension. Put even more simply, this enables time-space travel, making everyone’s wishes come true!”