Bai Liu did not linger long at the orphanage; he and Mu Ke were about to enter the game, and after a quick survey of the grounds, he prepared to leave.
Before departing, however, Bai Liu needed to speak briefly with Lu Yizhan.
He told Mu Ke to go home and wait for him. The young master left reluctantly, glancing back at Bai Liu every few steps, even asking when he would return. Bai Liu simply handed him his house key and told him to wait inside, which made Mu Ke's father look at Bai Liu with a rather peculiar expression.
As soon as Bai Liu stepped out, he saw Lu Yizhan waiting by the orphanage gate.
Lu Yizhan couldn't resist teasing, "Where's the young master? Following you around in a luxury car, glaring at me the whole time—when did you become so charming?"
Bai Liu replied with a straight face, "What good is charm? I turned him down for you, sent him home first."
Lu Yizhan chuckled, but quickly grew serious. "So, what did you find inside?"
Bai Liu answered unhurriedly, "Besides the poisoned children, there are missing ones as well. I've learned enough about the poisoning. As for the missing children, I suspect this isn't the first time it's happened here, is it?"
"How did you know?" Lu Yizhan was startled.
"The attitude was off," Bai Liu analyzed calmly. "That teacher's demeanor was strange. Normally, people avoid places where children have gone missing, but though she was afraid, she still led us right through the playground where it happened. That's not the reaction of someone facing a first-time tragedy—she's scared, but used to it. It must have happened several times before."
"That's right." Lu Yizhan bit down on his cigarette, irritation in his eyes. "We spoke to the director. Apparently, it's happened almost every year for the past decade."
Bai Liu pressed, "If children have gone missing every year, there should be records. Why haven't I heard of this before?"
"Because they weren't classified as missing. Most were written off as runaways. Even if reported, it was treated as a case of children leaving home. In the records, it's just a line or two—easy to overlook."
Missing children from a private orphanage—no one wants to waste time searching for them. With no parents or relatives to demand answers, these sporadic reports simply gather dust, a few lines fading into obscurity along with the vanished children.
"I looked into the orphanage after those philanthropists recovered from their illnesses," Lu Yizhan exhaled a plume of smoke. "But private orphanages aren't as strictly regulated as public ones. They're run independently, and the records we get may not reflect reality. For example, if the director didn't report missing children for a few years, we might never know."
He fell silent, then added, "I suspect those philanthropists are involved, but they're respected now, and it's been so many years. We have no evidence—there's no way to investigate further."
Bai Liu replied coolly, "Even if those businessmen did something to the children, without knowing their names or origins, it would be easy to make them disappear quietly. You have no leads."
"Exactly." Lu Yizhan took a deep drag, coughing. "But Bai Liu, these are lives we're talking about."
His eyes reddened as he looked at Bai Liu. "I can't accept that these children's deaths are simply written off as accidents. Even if it was an accident, I want to rule out every other possibility first. But now—"
"You have no evidence," Bai Liu said calmly, meeting his gaze. "You can't rule anything out, and it's not even your job. Just coming here is already going above and beyond."
Lu Yizhan was silent for a moment, but soon, with his characteristic resilience, he began discussing the missing children's cases with Bai Liu again.
Lu Yizhan possessed a peculiar tenacity—Bai Liu would never pursue a hopeless cause, but Lu Yizhan, if he thought it might help someone, would try no matter how futile, and always dragged Bai Liu along with him.
He shared the details of each case, showing Bai Liu the annual group photos and pointing out the missing children.
The first photo made Lu Yizhan fall silent for a moment.
Because among the missing was Bai Liu.
"You think he looks a lot like me at fourteen, don't you?" Bai Liu asked, pointing at the face in the photo, his tone even. "I think so too."
"You're nothing alike," Lu Yizhan replied quietly, his gaze unwavering. For once, he contradicted his friend. "Because he's dead, and you're still alive."
——————————
"Have you ever encountered something like this, Mu Sicheng?" Bai Liu asked as he walked home, phone pressed to his ear. "A future version of me, as a player, confirmed dead in a game instance set ten years ago, while the present me, ten years later, is still alive."
"Sounds like the grandmother paradox," Mu Sicheng's voice came through the receiver, tinged with disbelief. "Bai Liu, your luck is unreal. I've never even heard of such a thing in the game."
The "grandmother paradox" is a time-travel conundrum: if you go back and kill your grandmother, you would never be born, so how could you go back in time at all?
Bai Liu now faced a similar dilemma: if his future self entered a game and died in an instance set ten years ago, how could he still be alive now?
"Parallel universe theory?" Mu Sicheng ventured. "That's the usual explanation. Suppose your timeline is A, but what you saw was a failed Bai Liu from timeline B, loaded into our A-timeline game instance."
"Then you'd best not enter the orphanage game," Mu Sicheng advised, his tone grave. "As long as you don't enter, you won't die there, and a parallel timeline can exist where you survive."
"I don't think it's parallel universes," Bai Liu replied, clear-headed. "Our 'reality' is the official version of a game, the culmination of all possible outcomes from the beta version. Theoretically, there are no divergent timelines—no parallel universes."
"Our reality is the convergence of all possibilities. There can be no parallel."
"That makes sense," Mu Sicheng agreed, then suddenly realized, "Wait, but if the outcome is unique, doesn't that mean you're destined to die in that game instance ten years ago?!"
"But I'm still alive, which proves I didn't die in that instance," Bai Liu reasoned. "Otherwise, 'I am alive' and 'I am dead' would both exist in a single, non-parallel, unique reality—a paradox."
"Then…" Mu Sicheng was baffled. "What's going on?"
Bai Liu ignored his confusion, having reached his door and pulled out his keys.
With the phone wedged between shoulder and ear, he asked, "When are you planning to enter the game?"
"Why?" Mu Sicheng groaned. "Damn, after I agreed to join your team, I lost a whole night's sleep. What's your plan? I can probably manage twenty-six dungeons in two months, but you need to get the rest of the team together!"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want you to mentor a pair of newcomers," Bai Liu said quickly. "Xiang Chunhua and Liu Fu—last batch's top-ranked new players, both with personal skills, C+ stats. Take them through a level-one dungeon, help them practice their skills, teach them the basics. Don't coddle them."
After hotpot last night, Bai Liu had spoken with Xiang Chunhua and Liu Fu, asking if they wanted to join the league and honestly warning them of the risks.
They barely hesitated. The couple, holding hands and weeping, agreed. They only asked Bai Liu two questions:
First: "If we win, we can bring Guoguo back, right?"
"In theory, yes," Bai Liu replied. "But you could also save up points through regular play, though it would take longer. The league is riskier, but you'll earn points faster. Think it over and let me know tomorrow."
Xiang Chunhua exchanged a glance with Liu Fu, her hands twisting in her apron. On the TV behind her, the news was replaying the story of Li Gou's likely death sentence, the anchor's voice droning through the house: "High school girl dismemberment suspect faces death penalty…"
Xiang Chunhua looked at Bai Liu, her eyes earnest:
"If we join this competition, it'll help you, right?"—their second question.
Bai Liu was silent for a moment. "Yes, but the death rate is high. Please consider carefully…"
"We'll go," Xiang Chunhua said, smiling through her tears, wiping them away with the back of her hand. "No need to think it over. We trust you, Bai Liu. Besides, isn't earning points the same wherever you do it? It's just a competition, right? I was on the women's volleyball team back in school, wasn't I, Liu Fu?"