The psychiatrist walked to the window, pulled up the blinds, lit a candle, and turned off the lights in the room.
Tong Yang lay on the recliner, covered with a blanket, having drunk half a glass of warm water. Her expression was already drowsy.
"Are you sure about this, young lady? Once you enter deep sleep through hypnosis, you won’t be able to wake up on your own. While it won’t harm your body, I usually don’t recommend patients do this."
"It’s fine. I just want a good night’s sleep. Please wake me up tomorrow morning," Tong Yang replied.
The psychiatrist nodded, placing the soft candlelight beside her. Gently, he pressed his fingers against her temples. "Close your eyes now."
Tong Yang obeyed, her vision sinking into darkness. The tension in her exhausted muscles gradually eased under his soothing touch.
If the loop succeeded, she would return to just ten minutes earlier. If it failed, she’d simply wake up from a deep sleep.
"Do you remember the first time you clearly saw your mother’s face?"
"Try to recall. It’s alright if you can’t."
"Our memories hold many unforgettable fragments—good and bad. You know they belong to the past, but can you still remember the details?"
"What was around you? Was someone speaking? Was there light? Or… take a deep breath. Can you imagine the scents from back then?"
"Focus on reconstructing those details. Immerse yourself. What new feelings arise?"
...
The hypnosis took longer than Tong Yang expected. In the dim, warm ambiance, the doctor’s gentle voice guided her deeper into her memories, unearthing fragments long buried in the past, peeling them apart layer by layer to relive those moments.
She thought her most vivid memory would be the scene of her parents’ death, but her mind involuntarily wandered to the day her younger brother, Tong Le, was born.
His chubby cheeks, bright eyes, tiny fingers gripping hers tightly, filled with curiosity and oblivious to the broken family he was born into.
Lost in the past, Tong Yang drifted into a deep slumber.
Time became meaningless. Sound faded. Her body sank into nothingness.
"Tong Yang, are you feeling unwell?"
In her dazed state, she felt someone lightly shaking her. Blinking open her eyes, a harsh light made her wince. She propped herself up.
Her homeroom teacher’s familiar, slightly worried face came into view.
"Why were you sleeping? If you’re not feeling well, go home and rest early, alright?"
Tong Yang stared blankly. The cold touch of the desk pressed against her arm. A crumpled draft paper covered in equations lay beneath her, and a nearly empty pen rolled to the edge of the desk. The rustling of paper and the faint sway of curtains in the breeze filled the air.
The scene before her was sharp and real. She was back in the classroom.
The sun hadn’t set yet. The clock above the blackboard read 5:32 PM.
Had she… succeeded?
Confusion clouded her expression. Even if deep sleep allowed her to enter a time loop, shouldn’t she have returned just ten minutes earlier? Why was it daytime?
"Tong Yang, there are only a few minutes left. If you’re unwell, you can leave early."
"Leave early?" Tong Yang murmured.
5:32 PM. Eight minutes before dismissal.
Her head snapped up toward the countdown on the blackboard—four days left until the college entrance exams. It was June 3rd, 5:32 PM. Ten minutes before Sun Ye’s fatal fall at 5:42 PM.
The time loop hadn’t taken her back ten minutes—it had sent her to ten minutes before the moment of death, just like before!
"Sorry, teacher. I’ll go now!"
Without waiting for a response, Tong Yang grabbed her backpack and rushed out of the classroom.
If Sun Ye had truly taken his own life, she wouldn’t have mourned him. But his death wasn’t a suicide—it was tied to the same eerie killer she had encountered. Now that she had a chance to change the past and uncover the truth, she wouldn’t stand by.
She sprinted to Class 3-3’s door and knocked. "Excuse me, I’m looking for Sun Ye."
The teacher gave her a puzzled look. "Sun Ye? He asked for leave during fourth period."
Tong Yang’s heart sank. After a quick thanks, she headed straight for the rooftop.
Her hurried footsteps echoed through the empty stairwell. Reaching the top floor, she approached the metal door—its lock broken long ago, easily opened with just a slight push from a key.
She fished out her key, unlocked it, and pushed, only to meet resistance. Peering down, she saw a chair leg wedged against the door from the inside.
"Sun Ye? Are you in there?"
She banged on the door, pressing her face against the narrow gap. "Sun Ye! Answer me!"
Silence.
Cursing under her breath, Tong Yang realized Sun Ye wasn’t in class. His death was set for 5:42 PM, meaning he must have come to the rooftop before dismissal. But if the door was blocked from inside, only two possibilities remained: either Sun Ye was there… or his killer was.
"Sun Ye! Open the door!"
Dismissal was minutes away. Why would he barricade himself in?
Still no response. Tong Yang stepped back, then charged forward, slamming her foot against the door. The impact sent vibrations up her leg, but the door budged slightly. As she prepared to kick again, a figure appeared behind it, staring at her in shock.
"Tong Yang? What are you doing here?"
Sun Ye, thick glasses perched on his nose, flushed unnaturally, nervously clutching his sleeves. His eyes darted to the right—someone else was on the rooftop.
"Open it," Tong Yang demanded, her expression dark.
Startled, Sun Ye pulled the chair leg free. "What’s wrong?"
She shoved past him, knocking him to the ground without a second thought.
Her gaze locked onto the figure by the railing—a slender girl in a school uniform, her back turned.
She leaned over the edge, her skin unnaturally pale. One foot tapped lightly against the ground, her hair cascading down to her mid-back. The stark contrast between her black hair, white uniform, and paper-like complexion gave off an eerie, monochrome aura.
"Who are you?"
Tong Yang didn’t approach recklessly. According to the surveillance footage Officer Li had reviewed, no one except Sun Ye had gone to the rooftop. That meant the girl before him hadn’t come up through the stairwell—but what other ordinary way was there to reach this place?
Sun Ye hurriedly explained, “She’s Shi Yu’s friend. We were just talking—”
“Shut up.” Tong Yang shot him a glare. “I don’t care what you were discussing.”
“Since when would Chu Shiyu’s friends waste time on someone like you?”
The girl let out two low, mocking laughs, her foot lightly kicking the railing. The bluish-purple veins beneath her skin were faintly visible as she spoke in an icy tone, “We were having a nice chat, weren’t we?”
“Tong Yang—”
“I said shut it.”
Sun Ye opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Tong Yang’s sharp rebuke.
The girl slowly turned her head. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, her face covered in scars—hardly an inch of unmarred skin remained. The wounds had squeezed her eyes into mere slits, and a jagged gash near her lips exposed teeth and gums. Blood-stained bandages coiled around her neck.
When she saw Tong Yang and Sun Ye standing side by side, she raised a hand and clawed agitatedly at her arm, digging deep until fresh blood welled up, her nails caked with dried gore.
“Why? Why? He’s the only one who doesn’t despise my face… I was so close to killing him!”
“So annoying! So damn annoying! Why won’t you just die? Why don’t you all just die?”
“Men are trash, worthless scum! You only chase after pretty faces… You deserve to die! Every last one of you!”
Tong Yang glanced at Sun Ye, who had collapsed to the ground in terror, and remarked, “You really hurt her feelings, you garbage.”
“How about a hug to make up for it?”
Sun Ye’s face turned ashen. “But she’s—”
At Tong Yang’s words, the girl’s frenzied movements suddenly stilled. A flicker of hope and delight passed through her narrow eyes as she stretched out her bloodied hands toward Sun Ye.
“A hug?”
Tong Yang kicked him forward, sending him sprawling at the girl’s feet. Face-to-face with her grotesque visage, Sun Ye could only stare in mute horror, frozen on his knees.
“Hug her.”
