The teacher, true to his surname Leng, which meant "cold," actually hid a fiery passion for dry humor in his bones.
Before he even finished speaking, the classroom erupted into a chaotic buzz of chatter, the atmosphere instantly ignited.
The students' shouts rose and fell, and all sorts of wild imaginations flew around the room:
"I want to be the eldest daughter of a wealthy conglomerate! I'll go out with eight bodyguards, and my pocket money will be counted in the billions!"
A girl propped up her chin, her eyes sparkling. "I'd never have to calculate Newton's first law again. Money would be my universal gravity!"
"So short-sighted!"
A boy suddenly stood up. "I want to go to the apocalypse! Awaken superpowers, face zombie sieges, and be the most badass of them all. Now that's what I call thrilling!"
The person next to him bumped him with a look of disgust:
"Are you crazy? The apocalypse? A place with no water, no electricity, where you eat expired food every meal. With your weak physique, you wouldn't last a few days before being eaten clean by zombies. What, are physics problems not hard enough for you, so you want to challenge apocalyptic survival?"
"Can't I just imagine it? What if I bring a max-level inventory system with me!"
"Teacher! I want to be a Long Aotian (OP Protagonist), max level right from the start!"
"I don't want to transmigrate into a novel. Once I have the ability to time travel, I'll go straight back to the past to fight the invaders! I'll wipe them out! I'll bring infinite ammo, modern automatic rifles, and weapons back, and show them what 'suppressive fire' really means!"
"Yeah! Count me in!"
"I'll go too! Let's form a team and go blow them up!"
"I want to cultivate immortality. Flying on a sword would be so cool!"
Listening to these bold declarations, Mr. Leng let out a snort of laughter. He took a sip of tea and said:
"Alright, looking at the dark circles under your eyes, this is already a textbook 'immortal cultivation' scene. No need to transmigrate, you're ascending right where you are. Don't waste your energy trying to transmigrate into some novel."
Mr. Leng leaned on the podium and coughed lightly, signaling everyone to calm down:
"Alright, alright. Let's take the class representative's example of wanting to travel back to the past with an AK to fight the invaders."
After saying that, Mr. Leng turned around and drew a straight horizontal line on the blackboard.
"You were all chatting passionately just now, but now, we have to return to physical reality."
He heavily marked two dots on that straight horizontal line, one on the left and one on the right.
"Watch closely, class." He wrote an A on the left dot and a B on the right dot.
"This point B is you right now, sitting here listening to my class at this very second. And this point A,"
He drew a circle around A, "is the 'past' the class representative was just shouting about, the war-torn era he wants to go back and sweep through with an AK."
He tapped the blackboard, his voice turning cool:
"In the logic of linear time, going from B to A is absolutely impossible.
As a student, you endure every second, minute, day, and month. You cannot skip the early mornings, the endless practice questions, the classes, and the exams in between.
You want to appear directly at point A from point B, but our friend Newton would be the first to disagree."
The classroom gradually quieted down. Everyone looked at that horizontal line, and their earlier fiery enthusiasm cooled down a few degrees.
"However, if time becomes non-linear."
Mr. Leng paused, a trace of fanaticism flashing in his eyes:
"The space between A and B is no longer a rigid straight line, but a piece of paper that can be folded at will."
He casually picked up a piece of paper from the podium and folded it sharply in half in front of the whole class.
"As long as you fold the paper, A and B can overlap instantly.
At that moment, with a 'smack'—"
Mr. Leng put two fingers together, making a firing gesture: "You have already picked up the AK at point B and are standing directly on the battlefield of point A."
"In a non-linear view of time, as long as space-time is folded, there is no before or after between A and B, only a difference in coordinates."
After saying this, he turned around and drew another parallel line below the straight line, and then drew countless messy dashed lines between the two lines.
"If we follow non-linear logic, all endings and all processes are actually already laid out there.
You think you are making choices, changing your fate? No,"
Mr. Leng turned back, "You just happened to turn to that page in the already written 'script' and continued reading."
A student asked, "What do you mean by just happening to turn to that page in the already written 'script' and continuing to read?"
Mr. Leng casually picked up a comic book from his desk:
"When you read a comic book, isn't every panel already printed on the paper?
The protagonist is crying on the first page and laughing on the final page of the ending; they exist simultaneously."
"Linear time is like using a piece of paper to cover the other panels, only exposing the one in the middle.
When you take the paper away, you'll find that all the plotlines are already laid out there."
"Teacher, I still don't get it."
"Alright, then I'll use the most popular vlogs as an example. After all, this requires everyone to use editing software, which you are all familiar with."
"Just imagine that your life is actually a pre-edited video, uploaded to a server in the universe.
The past, present, and future—all the frames are frozen on that progress bar.
What we call 'life' is actually just our consciousness dragging that progress bar.
You think you are creating the future?
No, you just happened to drag the mouse and click on the frame of 'the 17th year of your life right now'.
No matter what you do, the frame for that second has long been waiting for you there, and you can only press the play button at that spot."
His gaze swept around the classroom and finally landed on Bella by the window, who had clearly zoned out.
"Take Bella, for example."
Bella was staring blankly at the golden rain tree outside the window. Suddenly hearing her name, she stiffened abruptly.
"Teacher..."
She turned her head, her voice a bit dry.
Mr. Leng looked at her with a faint, unreadable smile:
"Bella, suppose you transmigrated into a novel and a System appeared. The System required you to win over the male lead and date him. But after just a few days, you time-traveled to the male lead's future, and a few days after that, you time-traveled back to his childhood. Do you think..."
He paused. "Do you think this counts as non-linear time?"
He didn't wait for Bella to answer and turned around on his own accord, randomly poking three dots onto that horizontal line representing time.
"On the first day, you are at point B, which is the present, having a chance encounter on the street with the 18-year-old male lead."
"On the second day, with a 'smack,' the System drags you to the male lead's sickbed 60 years later. That's point C;
Before you even finish mourning, on the third day, you close and open your eyes, only to find yourself standing in front of a five-year-old boy. That's point A, and he's with a runny nose asking you for candy."
Mr. Leng put down the chalk and clapped the dust off his hands. "This is, of course, non-linear. But this kind of non-linearity is even more extreme than 'folding'."
"In a linear view of time, cause and effect are locked. You must first give him candy at point A before he can develop affection for you at point B."
"But in this jumping mode, your 'law of causality' completely collapses. You might witness his death at point C before you even have the chance to fall in love with him at point B, and finally return to point A to participate in his childhood."
He tapped the messy A, B, and C on the blackboard.
The students below listened in a daze.
"Ah... Sir, with our mortal bodies, it seems pretty hard to achieve this kind of jump, right?"
A boy in the front row scratched his head, breaking the silence.
"Is there some other way, like inventing a time machine in the future or something?"
"Ring—!!!"
The dismissal bell rang.
"Alright, class dismissed. I'll leave this question for you to ponder on your own."
Mr. Leng didn't show any displeasure at being interrupted. Instead, he neatly began packing up his teaching materials.
Ending class right on time and never dragging it out was one of the reasons the students liked him so much.
As he reached the door, he paused slightly, glancing back at the still-dazed students with a meaningful smile:
"Actually, if we just change the form, perhaps we can easily achieve non-linear time... Anyone interested is welcome to come to my office to continue the discussion."
As soon as Mr. Leng finished speaking, a few boys who were obsessed with the idea of fighting the Japanese invaders in the past immediately followed him with shining eyes.
"Hey, Bella, do you think there will really be a time machine in the future that lets us go back to the past?"
Ma Xin'er pulled out her sneakers while looking back at the distracted Bella.
Bella pursed her lips and shook her head:
"I don't know, maybe. After all, technology is developing so fast. It took less than a hundred years for humanity to go from riding horse-drawn carriages to landing on the moon. Who knows what the future holds?"
The progress of civilization sometimes far exceeds our intuition.
She threw her hands up in a helpless gesture and pulled Ma Xin'er outside:
"Alright, stop analyzing it. We need to go line up now."
"Ugh... it's the daily recess run again."
Ma Xin'er muttered softly, looking like a wilted flower,
"I don't want to run. The physics teacher said time can be folded, so can't we just fold these fifteen minutes of running time? Just 'snap' and send me straight to lunchtime?"
Bella was amused by her but still patted her shoulder in comfort.
On the sports field, the broadcast music had already started, and each class formed a square formation.
Being tall, Bella was placed in the very last row of her class's line.
With a blow of the teacher's whistle, all the students started running.
The entire morning flew by in a blur of chalk dust and practice tests.
After lunch, Bella accepted Ma Xin'er's invitation to go to the school store, and then slowly strolled alone to the small pavilion she had visited before.
Blooming hydrangeas, in clusters of pink and purple, were hidden among the green leaves, diffusing a faint fragrance.
It was quiet and secluded here, with an occasional gentle breeze brushing past her cheeks. It was very comfortable to stay here alone.
She pulled a wet wipe from her pocket, crouched down, and carefully wiped the solid wood bench several times.
After making sure there was no dust to the touch, she let out a satisfied sigh.
The seating area of this small pavilion was made of a single solid wooden board. It felt flat and smooth, unlike those uncomfortable hollowed-out designs.
Bella lay down and draped the shirt she had just taken off directly over her upper body and face.
The world instantly went dark, leaving only the scent of laundry detergent on her clothes and the occasional sound of the wind.
With her hands folded over her stomach, she closed her eyes to rest.
She didn't know how long had passed. Half asleep, Bella felt a slight tickle on her ear.
Squinting, she thought it was a small bug and casually swatted it away.
But a few seconds later, that furry, ticklish sensation crept up her earlobe again.
Frowning, she raised her hand and flapped it near her face a few more times.
But just a moment after it stopped, her other ear suffered the same fate.
Bella finally lost her patience, silently cursing the bug for specifically targeting her spot to cause trouble.
She sat up abruptly, and the shirt covering her face slipped down her shoulders.
Turning her head, she saw Ye Jinzhi sitting leisurely right next to her.
With his long legs crossed, he propped up his cheek with one hand, resting his arm naturally on the backrest, and observed her with a smiling gaze.
In his other hand, he was holding a fuzzy... foxtail grass.
Seeing that she was awake, the top of the foxtail grass swayed provocatively in the air.
"Boring..."
Bella had just woken up, so her voice carried a hint of softness.
Ye Jinzhi chuckled softly, the amusement in his eyes yet to fade.
"Teasing you... isn't boring at all."
The next second, he suddenly spoke: "You accepted that guy's love letter?"
Bella paused, realizing he was referring to what happened after the long recess today.
She hadn't expected someone to see her in such an obscure corner.
She didn't rush to deny it, nor did she show any panic. Instead, she tilted her head and carefully examined Ye Jinzhi's current expression.
He wore a smile, but the grip of his hand was slowly tightening.
Bella suddenly let out a light laugh. Her beautiful eyes fixed on him without looking away, and she played along with his words:
"Didn't you see it all yourself?"
As she spoke, she folded her shirt, her tone playful yet candid.
Ye Jinzhi leaned closer to her:
"What is he using to tempt you."
"You..." Bella frowned.
"Is he trying to seduce you with that mediocre skin of his, or relying on those nauseating sweet words?"
She unhurriedly raised her head. Her bright eyes reflected Ye Jinzhi's slightly gloomy face as she softly retorted:
"It's not a good habit to only watch half of the show."
He stared at her, as if trying to judge the truth in her words.
Meeting his aggressive gaze, Bella delivered the second half of her sentence:
"I didn't take that letter."
Hearing this, Ye Jinzhi didn't look relieved. The coldness in his eyes sank deeper, like a rainy season that would never clear up.
"Bella, there are too many greedy souls in this world coveting you.
I am the same... No, I'm even worse than them."
He reached out his hand, his fingertips slowly tracing the contours of her cheek:
"I... I am constantly prying into your soul, wanting to claim every second of your existence as my own."
Ye Jinzhi's hand slowly slid down from her ear, carrying a trace of sick obsession, his voice growing increasingly hoarse:
"Sometimes I have this fantasy. How wonderful would it be... if you could share my senses?
That way, when you look at me, you would feel the never-ending tsunami raging inside me;
you would feel the incurable joy deep in my soul every time I touch you;
and you would know how I fall into one uncontrollable descent... after another, all because of you."
