It was nearly nine o'clock when Tong Yang and Tong Le finished breakfast, and the doorbell rang.
Tong Le was in her room tidying up her clothes, so she asked Tong Yang to answer the door.
"Hello, is this Tong Le's home?"
Upon opening the door, Tong Yang saw a dignified and well-dressed woman standing outside. The woman’s refined appearance starkly contrasted with the old, yellowed balcony behind her.
"Yes," Tong Yang nodded, her gaze drifting downward to a little boy hiding behind the woman, peeking out timidly with a fluffy head of hair, his expression nervous.
The woman turned and gently patted the boy’s head, explaining, "I’m sorry, he’s a bit shy. It’s his first time visiting a friend’s house."
"It’s fine, please come in." Tong Yang stepped aside to let them enter. "Tong Le is cleaning up. Have a seat, and I’ll get you some water."
The woman quickly shook her head. "I actually have some matters to attend to. Could you please look after him for me?"
Tong Yang nodded. "Of course."
The woman exhaled in relief, pulling the boy forward. "Linlin, Mom has to go now. Be good, don’t cause any trouble for the sisters, and call me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up."
"Mmm…" The boy tilted his head, still refusing to look up.
Seeing this, the woman sighed helplessly, cupping his right cheek and stroking it gently. "Have fun, okay?"
"Mmm."
"Take care," Tong Yang said politely. The woman forced a smile, her eyes lingering on Tong Yang with a complicated expression, as if she wanted to say something but ultimately left without another word.
"Linlin? Come on in." Tong Yang bent down to coax him inside. The boy seemed hesitant, burying his face even deeper, but he eventually shuffled in.
Just then, Tong Le emerged from her room, arms full of dirty laundry. She grinned and greeted him, "Yang Lin, you’re here! Have you eaten breakfast?"
Yang Lin mumbled softly, "Yes."
Tong Yang closed the door and said to Tong Le, "Leave the laundry for now and keep your friend company."
"I know!"
Tong Le huffed as she carried the clothes to the bathroom, then dashed back and grabbed Yang Lin’s arm. "Yang Lin, this is my sister."
"Sis, this is my best friend from school, Yang Lin."
Yang Lin hesitated for a few seconds before slowly turning toward Tong Yang. He cautiously lifted his gaze to meet hers and whispered, "Hello, sis…"
At that moment, Tong Yang got a clear look at his face. His left cheek was delicate and unblemished, but his right eye and forehead bore extensive burn scars, the skin twisted and sagging around his eye, leaving only a narrow slit.
"Hello," Tong Yang replied evenly. "Don’t mind me, go ahead and play."
Yang Lin studied her expression, as if searching for something. When he found none of the reactions he feared, the tension in his face eased, and he offered a shy smile.
He reached into the bag slung across his shoulder and pulled out a packet of homemade cookies, slowly extending them to Tong Yang. "Sis, these are for you… as a gift."
"Thank you." Tong Yang accepted them.
"Come on, let’s go play in my room!"
Yang Lin nodded at Tong Yang before following Tong Le into the bedroom.
Tong Yang set the cookies aside in her room, then went to wash the laundry.
When she finished, she noticed two text messages from Yang Lin’s mother on her phone.
Miss Tong, I’m so sorry. When Linlin was two, there was a fire at home, and it left noticeable scars on his face. The other children are afraid of him and bully him—they refuse to be his friend. Tong Le is his only friend. He’s a very good boy, and I hope you won’t think poorly of him because of this. Thank you!
If you’d prefer Tong Le not be friends with him, please try not to show it in front of him, okay? He’s very sensitive and would be deeply hurt. I beg you!
Tong Yang stared at the messages in silence for a long moment before typing a reply:
Thank you for the cookies. I won’t interfere with Tong Le’s friendships.
Less than thirty seconds later, a response came:
Thank you so much!
Tong Yang smiled faintly and turned off her phone.
No wonder Tong Le had said those things yesterday—she’d been worried her sister might hurt her friend’s feelings.
She walked to Tong Le’s bedroom door and knocked. "I’m going out to buy groceries. Anything you two want to eat?"
"Sis, just get whatever! We’re not picky!"
"Coca-Cola chicken wings?"
"Yes! Yang Lin, do you like Coca-Cola chicken wings?"
"Mmm… I do."
Tong Yang told them to enjoy themselves and left with her keys. She bought groceries for the weekend, along with some snacks and drinks.
At noon, after cooking lunch, Tong Le called the two kids out to eat.
"Yang Lin, see? I told you my sister’s cooking is amazing!"
Yang Lin nodded shyly. "Yes, sis’s cooking is really good."
"Enough flattery, just eat."
Yang Lin had impeccable table manners, sitting straight-backed and eating with deliberate care, while Tong Le was far more relaxed—though her manners were still better than most boys’.
After lunch, Tong Le borrowed her sister’s phone and curled up on the sofa with Yang Lin to play games.
Tong Yang bid them farewell and left for her part-time job at a milk tea shop, leaving her phone behind.
At 5:30 p.m., Tong Yang returned from work, stopping on the way to pick up some cold dishes.
When she got home, the living room was empty, but the kitchen light was on. Approaching, she found Tong Le meticulously slicing potatoes, while Yang Lin squatted nearby peeling garlic—the scene oddly harmonious.
"Sis, you’re back?" Tong Le glanced up and waved. "Go sit down and rest. Yang Lin and I are cooking dinner for you tonight."
Tong Yang raised an eyebrow. "I’m afraid you’ll burn the kitchen down."
"Sis! I can cook! Stop worrying and go change."
Shoved out of the kitchen, Tong Yang didn’t protest. As she turned to head to her room, Tong Le suddenly added, "Oh, sis, someone called you this afternoon asking which university you prefer. I didn’t know if it was a scam."
"Got it." Tong Yang acknowledged and went to her room, where she found her phone charging on the nightstand. Checking the call log, she saw a missed call from a Beijing number around 3:30 p.m., lasting less than a minute.
Today was June 15th. The college entrance exams had ended a week ago, and scores wouldn’t be released until after the 20th—another week or so.
After a moment’s thought, Tong Yang decided not to return the call.
Tong Le’s cooking skills surpassed her expectations—the kitchen wasn’t a disaster, and the food tasted surprisingly good.
After dinner, before Tong Yang could even offer, the two volunteered to do the dishes. Happy to let them, she didn’t object.
They relaxed for a little over half an hour before Yang Lin’s mother arrived to pick him up.
"Miss Tong, thank you for having him today."
"No, I haven’t."
Yang Lin held his mother’s hand and said goodbye to Tong Le. Unlike when they had arrived, he no longer hid behind his mother but instead looked up at Tong Yang with hopeful eyes. "Sister, can I come play again sometime?"
Tong Yang, seeing his cautious expression, gave him a rare, gentle smile. "Of course."
"Then can I invite you and Lele to my house next time?"
"Sure."
Yang Lin let out a deep sigh of relief and looked up at his mother, grinning happily. "Mom, let’s go home."
His mother stared at his smile, her eyes unexpectedly reddening. "Alright, let’s go home."
Then, she turned to Tong Yang and said sincerely, "Miss Tong, thank you so much."
"No need for thanks. Be careful on your way back."
Yang Lin’s mother smiled, bending down to ruffle his hair. "Linlin, let’s go. We’ll play with your friends again next time."
"Mm!"
"Bye, Lele! Bye, Sister!"
"Goodbye."
After seeing them off, Tong Yang closed the door.
Tong Le sat on the sofa and said, "Sister, you can ask me now."
"Ask you what?" Tong Yang looked at him, puzzled.
Tong Le blinked. "Aren’t you going to ask me about Yang Lin?"
"There’s nothing to ask. He’s a polite, good kid."
Tong Le burst into laughter, bouncing up from the sofa and throwing himself into her arms. "I knew you’d say that!"
Tong Yang peeled him off. "Alright, you’ve played all day. Go do your homework."
"Got it!"
After a pause, Tong Yang added, "I don’t think Yang Lin’s mom knows he’s been bullied recently. Try to convince him to tell her himself."
"Okay, I will!"
Without further discussion, they each retreated to their rooms.
On Monday morning, after dropping Tong Le off at school, Tong Yang checked her phone while heading to her part-time job at the milk tea shop.
Since that call from the capital on Saturday afternoon, she hadn’t received any more calls related to universities. However, Teacher Yang had phoned her several times, asking if she’d gotten any recruitment calls from top universities. She’d heard that some schools had their own channels to contact high-achieving students a week before the college entrance exam results were released, inviting them to enroll.
After Tong Yang answered truthfully, Teacher Yang told her not to worry—her mock exam results had been consistently strong, so there was no reason to expect anything different this time.
Tong Yang herself wasn’t particularly anxious. The outcome was already decided, and even if she underperformed, there was nothing she could do. Besides, she felt she’d done well on the exams.
During her lunch break, she logged into a social app. The groups "Gossip Squad 007" and "1209 Secret Archives" were always active, but Tong Yang rarely participated.
However, she was surprised to find several private messages in her inbox—something unusual for her.
Two were from Chu Shiyu, sent a day earlier, asking whether Tong Yang had received any recruitment calls from universities in the capital and which school she preferred.
[Not yet.]
[Not sure.]
Tong Yang replied briefly before exiting the chat and checking the rest of her messages. Several unfamiliar profiles had reached out.
The messages were all similar:
[Hey there!]
[Hi, classmate! How’s the study pressure lately?]
These were sent three months ago.
[Hey, are you there? Congrats on finishing the exams! Any plans for which city you’ll study in?]
[I can give you some recommendations!]
These were more recent.
Several other strangers had sent nearly identical messages, spaced out over time. Tong Yang had ignored them all, not even remembering when she’d added them.
But she vaguely recalled classmates mentioning that top universities sometimes obtained contact details of high-scoring students before the exams, building relationships early to recruit them afterward.
Tong Yang figured these strangers must be university representatives who’d gotten her info after the mock exams.
She replied to each, avoiding any commitment by saying she was still considering her options.
Over the next few days, she received more messages—some introducing their schools, others recommending majors. Tong Yang listened but never gave a definitive answer.
On Wednesday evening, as Tong Yang walked home with a box of stir-fried rice noodles, two young men in suits stepped out of her apartment building.
"Tong Yang?"
"Hello, are you Tong Yang?"
Their faces lit up when they saw her, and one pulled out a business card.
"Who are you?" Tong Yang frowned.
The man bowed slightly. "We’re from Peking University’s admissions office. Could we speak somewhere private?"
"Peking University?" She eyed them skeptically. "How do I know you’re telling the truth?"
The men exchanged glances. "We can log into the official admissions website—our photos and information are there."
"Also, we scheduled a meeting tonight, but you weren’t home when we arrived."
Tong Yang paused. "We scheduled this? When? Have we met before?"
"Online. I added you as a contact."
She studied them silently. While she had been communicating with recruiters, none were from Peking University, and she certainly hadn’t arranged any home visits.
"Can I see the chat logs?"
"Ah…" The man hesitated, then pulled up his call history. "We called you twice last weekend. The first time, your brother answered."
Tong Yang checked the screen. The number and time matched—Tong Le had indeed picked up a call while she was at work last Saturday. But the call record showed her number calling back nearly an hour later, at 4:25 PM.
"You called back soon after and confirmed this meeting for today, the 19th."
Last Saturday was June 15th. Tong Yang had worked until 5:30 PM, leaving her phone at home. There was no way she could’ve called at 4:25—and her own call history showed no such outgoing call.
"Are you sure it was my voice?" Her tone darkened.
The man faltered. "Sorry, we didn’t talk long, and over the phone… but it sounded like you."
Tong Yang pressed her lips together. In other words, without her knowledge—and even without Tong Le noticing—someone had used her phone to call back in her name, arranged today's meeting, and then deleted the call record afterward?
Suddenly, Tong Yang recalled something Tong Le had mentioned: he had seen someone on the street with a back figure identical to hers. Perhaps this wasn’t just a coincidence!
If she could encounter people from parallel worlds who looked exactly like her mother and Teacher Yang, then there must also be a version of herself in those worlds.
"Sorry, my home isn’t very convenient right now," Tong Yang declined politely.
Given that they had sought her out, they likely already knew something about her family situation.
One of the men nodded understandingly. "You haven’t eaten yet, have you? How about we find a restaurant and talk over a meal?"
"Alright."
Carrying her takeout box of stir-fried rice noodles, Tong Yang left Dongyang Residential Area with them.
Along the way, she buried herself in studying her call logs, trying to recover the deleted record. Unfortunately, it seemed beyond her ability to restore.
They arrived at a nearby restaurant and took a seat by the window.
The two admissions officers, dressed in suits and ties, stood out awkwardly in the casual setting. Yet neither showed any displeasure. Instead, they warmly engaged Tong Yang as if they were the hosts.
Tong Yang suggested they order a couple of dishes. While waiting for the food, they got down to business.
"Tong Yang, I assume you’ve guessed why we’re here?"
She nodded. "You know my exam scores?"
The two exchanged glances. "Of course, we don’t know your exact scores. But based on your performance in the mock exams, we believe you’re an exceptional candidate. We’re here to invite you to enroll at Peking University. If you agree now, regardless of your final score, we’ll guarantee your admission—with any major of your choice."
Tong Yang’s gaze swept over them. "What if my score falls far below the cutoff?"
"Rest assured, we’d still make an exception. We’d offer a full scholarship, waive all tuition fees, and even promise a direct Ph.D. track if your major aligns."
She studied them with a meaningful look. "No matter my ranking? These terms are incredibly tempting. Are you sure you’re not scammers?"
Her sharp eyes seemed to pierce through them.
"Of course not. We’re confident your score will meet Peking University’s undergraduate requirements."
Tong Yang smiled faintly but didn’t commit. "I’m afraid I might not make the cut. Let’s discuss this after the results come out."
"By then, such an opportunity might no longer be available. If you agree now, you could visit the campus with us tomorrow—all travel expenses covered. What do you think?"
When Tong Yang remained silent, merely watching them with an amused expression, one of the officers wiped sweat from his brow and pressed on, "Please reconsider. Once scores are released, scholarships and direct Ph.D. offers will depend solely on your ranking."
She shrugged. "Then it just means I’m not exceptional enough for your university’s perks."
The two fell silent.
"Don’t say that. We truly believe in your potential. Do you doubt our credentials? I can prove—"
"No need. I trust you. I just worry I might not live up to your expectations."
"This…"
Tong Yang continued deflecting, her unyielding demeanor making it clear she saw through their thinly veiled persuasion.
A full scholarship and direct Ph.D. track at Peking University? Those were privileges reserved for the most outstanding among geniuses—demanding not just top scores but also excellence in major-specific performance and campus involvement. And she hadn’t even enrolled yet.
She refused to believe they’d dangle such incentives based solely on her mock exam results. More likely, they already had an idea of her ranking and wanted to secure her before rival universities could compete.
Seeing her unwavering skepticism, one officer suddenly had an idea. He pulled out his phone. "Tong Yang, you said you don’t recall making that call, right? My phone auto-records calls. Let me play it for you."
This piqued her interest, and she nodded.
After scrolling through his phone, he tapped a recording and placed it before her, turning up the volume.
"Hello?" A lazy voice sounded.
"Hello? Is this Tong Yang?"
Though phone audio differed from reality, Tong Yang recognized her own voice in that single word.
"Yes, this is Tong Yang. What’s the matter?"
As the recording continued, a chill ran down her spine. The voice and tone were indistinguishable from hers—yet she knew with absolute certainty she hadn’t made that call at 4:25 PM on June 15th.
"I’m from Peking University’s admissions office. We’re calling to ask if you’ve considered enrolling with us. Back in March, we actually called to offer an early admission spot, but you didn’t answer. Your school later informed us you declined."
Tong Yang remembered now. Her school had mentioned a recommendation opportunity contingent on placing in a math competition, which would require about two weeks of training. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time and didn’t realize it was Peking University’s offer. Even if she had, she’d likely have refused—she was confident she could score well enough in the gaokao to secure better scholarships and opportunities.
After an eerie pause, the voice on the recording let out a near-mocking laugh. In the background, Tong Le and Yang Lin’s conversation faintly echoed.
"Is that so."
The familiar voice carried an indescribable emotion, unsettling in its delivery.
Then it struck her: the woman on the phone, though identical in voice, wasn’t like the parallel-world individuals she’d encountered before. She wasn’t frenzied or numb—just eerily ordinary.
And that made it all the more terrifying.
Before, she could easily distinguish parallel-world beings by their appearance or behavior. But this imposter who’d called the admissions office?
She blended in like a normal person, hiding in plain sight.
How could anyone prove they weren’t real?
Or perhaps, if this person shared her voice, her tone, and even her appearance, how would those who knew her distinguish the real her from the "Tong Yang" who came from another world full of danger and the unknown?
What if this "Tong Yang" appeared before Tong Le? What then?
"Sure, next Wednesday, six in the evening, at my place."
"Great! It’s a deal then?"
"Mhm."
The call ended with a lighthearted "Mhm."
Tong Yang’s back was drenched in a cold sweat. If she expanded her thoughts further—what if there were countless people in the world who looked identical to those around her? How could anyone be certain who was real and who wasn’t?
Compared to the visibly deranged, violent, or numb "Hunters" from parallel worlds, these near-perfect replicas of ordinary people were far more terrifying.
Because they were everywhere. Impossible to detect.
The future was shifting every second. Even if nothing had happened yet, who could guarantee that Tong Le wouldn’t be dragged into danger someday?
The consequences of this situation might be far worse than she imagined. At the very least, before things spiraled out of control, she needed to figure out what triggered the crossing between these two worlds. There was no more time for hesitation.
"Tong Yang, are you okay? You look pale—are you feeling unwell?"
Tong Yang shook her head, signaling that she was fine, but her thoughts drifted uncontrollably.
One question lingered in her mind:
Why had the "Tong Yang" on the phone insisted on meeting the admissions officer today?
Why did it have to be today?
