chapter 3: three

Chen Dongyang sat alone in the infirmary, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the silence. His bandaged arm throbbed, a dull reminder of the crimson energy that had seared it. His head ached too, the aftereffects of the time rewind lingering like a storm cloud. He leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a tangled mess of questions.

Yin Qingle’s power—uncontrolled, destructive, tied to her emotions.

Yin Xiran’s telekinesis—precise, deliberate, a shield for her sister.

Jiang Yuxin’s mind control—cold, calculated, but curiously restrained.

And him—rewinding time, at a cost that felt like it was carving pieces from his soul.

‘Why us?’ he thought, his fingers tracing the edge of the gauze. ‘Why here? Why now?’

Yin Xiran’s parting words echoed in his mind: Not everyone can ‘sense’ the danger. She’d seen something in him, just like Jiang Yuxin had. They were both circling him, probing, testing. And he was running out of ways to deflect.

He closed his eyes, the image of the exploding basketball flashing behind his lids. The crimson energy, the chaos, Yin Qingle’s panic—it was all too vivid. He’d rewound time to stop it, but the cost was mounting. Each attempt left him weaker, his head pounding, his body heavier.

‘I can’t keep doing this,’ he thought, fear creeping in. ‘But I can’t stop, either.’

*

Outside, Jiang Yuxin walked briskly through the school courtyard, her expression calm but her mind racing. The encounter in the infirmary had confirmed her suspicions: Chen Dongyang was hiding something extraordinary, and Yin Xiran knew more than she was letting on.

She thought of Yin Xiran’s smile—playful, but with an edge of calculation. Their agreement to meet at the park tomorrow was a step forward, but Jiang Yuxin didn’t trust her. Not completely. Yin Xiran was too confident, too quick to deflect. And her sister’s power was a wildcard, a danger that could spiral out of control.

‘Chen Dongyang’s the key,’ she thought, her fingers tightening around her schoolbag strap. ‘He’s not just immune. He’s… something else.’

She remembered his pained expression on the playground, the way he’d moved before the basketball exploded. It wasn’t luck or reflexes. It was knowledge. He’d known what was coming.

And she’d find out how.

That night, Chen Dongyang sat at his desk, the digital clock glowing: 22:00. His bandaged arm rested on a pillow, the pain dulled by medication but still present. The ballpoint pen sat in its holder, a silent challenge.

He stared at it, his heart pounding.

He’d rewound time three times now—once last night, twice on the playground. Each attempt had been more painful, more draining. But he was getting better at it. Five seconds, then ten. If he could push further, maybe he could go back to the start of the loops, find out why they’d happened, why Jiang Yuxin was at the center.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the playground: the basketball, the crimson energy, Yin Qingle’s panic. He pushed, willing time to bend.

The pain hit like a freight train, his skull splitting, his vision blurring. He gasped, clutching the desk, images flashing—Jiang Yuxin’s smirk, Yin Xiran’s knowing glance, the explosion.

Then, a new image: a rooftop, Jiang Yuxin standing at the edge, her figure silhouetted against the sky. But it wasn’t her falling. Someone else was there, a shadow, pushing her.

His eyes snapped open, his breath ragged.

The clock read: 21:59:45.

Fifteen seconds.

He’d done it, but the pain was unbearable, like his brain was being shredded. He slumped forward, sweat dripping onto his notebook, his body trembling.

The image lingered—the shadow on the rooftop, Jiang Yuxin’s near-fall.

‘Someone tried to kill her,’ he thought, his heart racing. ‘That’s why the loops started.’

But who? And why?

He thought of Yin Xiran and Yin Qingle, their powers, their sudden arrival. Could they be connected? Or was it someone else, someone still hidden?

He needed to talk to Jiang Yuxin. But telling her about the loops, about his power, was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

*

In her room, Jiang Yuxin sat at her desk, her notebook open. She added a new line: Chen Dongyang—precognition or time manipulation?

She tapped her pen, her mind racing. The playground incident, Yin Qingle’s power, Yin Xiran’s telekinesis—it was all converging. And Chen Dongyang’s impossible actions were the thread tying it together.

She thought of her meeting with Yin Xiran tomorrow. The other girl would talk, but Jiang Yuxin needed to be ready. Yin Xiran was no fool—she’d demand something in return.

And Chen Dongyang… he was the bigger mystery.

She closed her notebook, her eyes narrowing.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’ll get answers.”

The game was heating up, and she was ready to make her move.