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He had seen it every day since he was a kid, countless times in the mirror. So he knew—without a doubt—there was no spacetime rejection reaction happening. His face was exactly the same as before he’d traveled through time. No changes at all.

His eyes, for instance. Every spacetime traveler, or anyone from another timeline, had blue eyes. It was a clear and undeniable sign—a rule of time travel. Even the biological samples brought by the false Yu Xi, the spacetime particles, and the starry dust that travelers left behind when they disappeared, they all turned blue. It was like a signature, an imprint of another time. Yet Lin Xian’s eyes showed not the slightest hint of blue.

It wasn’t what he expected. In fact, it was the strangest thing he had encountered since arriving here, in 1952.

It wasn’t scientific. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Lin Xian believed in the laws of spacetime. They were constants, unbreakable. And yet, it seemed they had… failed?

“Have the laws of spacetime… failed?” Lin Xian muttered, standing up and gazing toward the sunrise in the distance.

It was October 28th, 1952. Brooklyn. The chill in the air hit him now for the first time, seeping through his thin otter suit and trousers. It was almost winter, and without adrenaline pumping through him from running, the cold was creeping in, settling into his bones. Everything he believed seemed to be unraveling—the rules of time and reality becoming vague and unclear.

It was a cold unlike any he had ever felt. A real, biting cold.

The spacetime laws had always been his anchor. They were a certainty, a foundation. If those laws could fail, what else might go wrong? Could this timeline still be considered normal?

“No, no, no. Let’s think this through,” Lin Xian muttered, trying to bring some order to his racing thoughts. First things first: he was sure he had traveled through time. From Donghai in 2234 to Brooklyn in 1952. That was certain. The “kite string” at the back of his head was proof enough—a connection to his original timeline. An invisible line that connected him to his time in the future. He could sense it, like a tether pulling on his thoughts. If he focused, he was confident he could follow that string and return home.

He had the ability to travel back—that much was clear. It was the nature of the entangled spacetime particles. Anyone who had them could feel that connection. But then, why hadn’t his eyes changed? Why hadn’t there been the usual spacetime rejection? His appearance should have altered, his eyes should be blue by now, and if he died, he should disappear into blue starry dust. Those were the rules.

But none of it had happened.

“There are only two possibilities,” Lin Xian said, his thoughts sharp and focused. “Either the spacetime laws have failed in 1952, or they haven’t taken effect yet.”

He glanced at CC, who was standing in the narrow alley nearby, staring at him like he was insane. His gut told him it was the latter.

[Because the first millennial stake hasn’t been hammered down yet, history hasn’t been locked, and therefore the spacetime laws I know haven’t activated.]

“That must be it,” Lin Xian whispered to himself. “Only this reasoning can explain why this is happening.”

He remembered Yellow Finch’s cryptic hints—the millennial stakes were there to lock history in place. It was only after that that the spacetime rejection and forced avoidance would take effect.

This was something new—something he could only understand by experiencing time travel for himself. He realized that until CC turned twenty and the first millennial stake was hammered into the river of time, history wouldn’t be locked. And without locked history, spacetime rejection wouldn’t happen.

Lin Xian’s thoughts became clearer. History locking was a prerequisite for spacetime rejection. Without history being locked in place, there could be no spacetime rejection. This deepened his understanding of the spacetime laws.

He looked at CC again, who was staring at him, obviously thinking he was completely out of his mind. Lin Xian ignored her puzzled expression.

Once CC’s 20th birthday arrived, the first millennial stake would be hammered down, and the river of time would be forever altered. It would create spacetime fissures, officially locking history in place. And after that, every 24 years, another stake would be driven in to continue locking history as it was meant to be.

“I understand now,” Lin Xian said, a sense of clarity washing over him. He finally understood the millennial stakes and their purpose. Only by driving those stakes could history be locked, preventing spacetime travelers from altering it. It was all about stability—maintaining world lines. Without those stakes, everything was still in flux.

He realized that, right now, he could make changes to history. Because the first millennial stake hadn’t yet been hammered down, there were no rules preventing him from altering events.

But when exactly was the first stake hammered into place? Lin Xian turned back to CC, who was leaning against the wall in the alley, watching him warily.

“Hey, what do you want?” CC said, her voice filled with suspicion. “Is there something wrong with your head?”

Lin Xian ignored her tone, his own voice serious. “CC, I need to ask you something important. How old are you now?”

“Nineteen,” she replied, narrowing her eyes.

“Is your 20th birthday soon? In the next month or two, maybe?”

CC blinked, looking confused. “How do you know that? Hey… you’re really weird. You know my childhood nickname, CC, and now my birthday too? Don’t tell me the girl you know, the one who looks like me, has the same birthday on December 24th?”

Lin Xian shook his head. “No, not at all. But so you’re a Christmas Eve baby? That’s quite the day.”

“Not really,” CC said, shrugging. “I don’t even know my real birthday. I’ve told you before, I was abandoned at Granny’s orphanage. The note they left only had my name. Granny picked December 24th as my birthday because that’s when she found me.”

“It’s not my real birthday, but who cares? As long as I celebrate once a year and grow older, it’s all the same.”

Lin Xian sighed inwardly. It wasn’t the same—not at all. CC might think it didn’t matter, but to him, it did. Because CC didn’t have much time left.

She wouldn’t live to see her 20th birthday.

That complicated things. If she didn’t know her real birthday, then Lin Xian couldn’t be sure when she would turn into blue starry dust and disappear. He needed to find out more.

“Did the old lady ever mention when she found you? What month it was?” Lin Xian asked.

“Granny said I was small, but not a newborn,” CC replied, thinking it over. “Maybe almost a month old. But she wasn’t sure.”

“Makes sense,” Lin Xian muttered. “So, starting today until December 24th, any day could be your real birthday.”

“You’re really boring,” CC said with a snort. “Why does it matter?”

Lin Xian didn’t answer her directly. Because if CC knew what awaited her, she’d probably think he was insane. She wouldn’t believe him anyway—not with how cautious she was, growing up as an orphan in Brooklyn’s slums.

She wouldn’t trust him.

The truth was that, any day now, CC could disappear into blue starry dust. Lin Xian needed to be there when it happened. He couldn’t let her out of his sight, not in an age without phones or any way to find her again.

He had to stay by her side. Witness this part of history. Understand the millennial stakes and find the truth.

Lin Xian looked up.

“Huh? Where did she go?” he exclaimed, startled to find that CC had vanished. He ran towards the alley, relieved when he saw her disappearing into another alley just ahead.

“Hey! CC!” Lin Xian shouted, running after her. He finally caught up in the narrow gap between two buildings.

“What do you want?” CC snapped, turning to face him, her eyes blazing with irritation.

“I’m warning you,” she said sharply, “stop sticking to me. I helped you out of goodwill because we’re from the same country. Don’t make me regret it by giving me trouble.” She shrugged, her expression hardening. “Look at me. I’ve got no money, no home, no job, and no food. I can’t help you anymore. It’s time for us to part ways.”

She paused, then added, “One more thing: don’t go back to that street. It’s Black Gang territory. You got lucky once, but next time… nobody will be there to save you.”

Lin Xian smiled faintly, trying to slip his hands into pockets that didn’t exist in the ridiculous otter suit he was wearing. He adjusted his stance awkwardly, looking at CC.

“I’m definitely going back,” he said calmly.

CC glared at him, her face a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re nuts. Completely unreasonable!”

“I need to return the money for the newspaper to that kid,” Lin Xian explained, holding up the crumpled newspaper in his hand. “I’m serious. I’ve got no money now, but I’ll find a way. Even if I have to carry bricks or pick up junk, I’ll pay for what I took.”

His voice softened as he added, “Honoring your word is an ancient virtue in X Country—a gentleman’s promise is as solid as gold… well, that doesn’t translate perfectly into English. But the point is, I promised to pay, and I won’t let that kid get in trouble.”

CC crossed her arms, her voice cold. “That’s your business, not mine. Don’t drag me into it. I’ve already done enough for you.”

Lin Xian smiled, taking a step closer. “You misunderstand, CC. I’m not trying to burden you. I won’t be dragging you down. Actually… truth is, I’m new here. I just got into this place, and I don’t know anyone. I don’t know my way around Brooklyn.”

He clasped his hands together, his eyes earnest. “So, can you do me one more favor? Let me stick around for a bit? You don’t have to treat me like a follower or anything. I can pull my weight. Two people are stronger than one.”

“I’m capable,” he added quickly. “I’m not some helpless kid. I won’t be a burden—I promise. Just let me stay with you for a while, show me how things work here. Help me learn the survival rules. Please.”

CC was silent, her eyes fixed on him. She studied the dark-haired, dark-eyed man standing before her, his clothes tattered and his gaze unwavering. She remembered what Granny had taught her years ago: when you’re abroad, fellow countrymen should help each other. Stay kind-hearted, lend a hand when someone’s in need—just like Granny had always done at the orphanage, passing on love.

“Hmm…” CC bit her lip, her resolve faltering. “Alright,” she sighed. “Fine.”

Lin Xian’s face lit up, but CC held up a finger to stop him. “But let’s get one thing straight! You can stay for now, but once you figure out how to manage on your own and find a job, you’re on your way. No more tagging along.”

“No problem,” Lin Xian said, nodding eagerly.

“And don’t think of yourself as my follower,” CC warned, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not a gang leader, and I don’t need a crew. But since you don’t know anything, you’re going to listen to me. If I say don’t do something, you do as I say. No questions.”

Lin Xian grinned, extending a hand. “Of course, boss. I promise I’ll behave.”

CC’s eyebrows twitched, and she slapped his hand away, giving him a half-hearted high-five instead. “Don’t call me boss,” she muttered.

“Then what should I call you?” Lin Xian asked, still smiling.

“Just call me CC,” she replied.

For a moment, Lin Xian stood there, dazed. This scene seemed oddly familiar—like something out of a dream. Three years ago, or maybe two hundred years ago, depending on how you looked at it. He’d first met Big Cat Face and CC in a dream, and they’d gotten caught up in a bank robbery—the beginning of everything.

The memory flashed before his eyes: the failed attempt to crack the safe, the way he’d offered his hand to CC, asking her what she wanted to be called. She’d made the same gesture, spoken the same words.

Suddenly, Lin Xian’s stomach growled, the loud sound echoing in the narrow, quiet alley.

“…”

“…”

They stared at each other, the awkward silence stretching between them. Lin Xian knew it was embarrassing, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault. Before he got into the time travel machine, Liu Feng and Gao Wen had told him to fast for 24 hours—preferably have an empty stomach before traveling through time. By the time he arrived, he was already starving. Then all this had happened. Running, escaping—he’d used up all his energy.

Now his stomach was staging a full-on protest.

“Uh…” Lin Xian scratched his head sheepishly. “Could you, um, buy me some bread? I promise I’ll pay you back.”

CC’s forehead twitched, and a vein popped as she glared at him. “You! You’re getting way too comfortable! And haven’t I told you a hundred times? I don’t have any money. Not a penny!”

“Then how do you usually eat?” Lin Xian asked, rubbing his stomach. “Whatever you do, I’ll do too. I’m not picky—as long as I get food.”

CC sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as if fighting the urge to leave him right there. But she’d already promised to help him one last time. She couldn’t back out now.

She took a deep breath and looked at him. “Are you a Christian?”

“No,” Lin Xian replied, shaking his head. “I’m an atheist. I believe in science.”

“You don’t believe in Jesus?” CC asked.

“Nope,” Lin Xian said plainly. “Atheist means I don’t believe in anything. Just science.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” CC muttered, shaking her head. “No food for you, then.”

“Huh?” Lin Xian blinked in confusion. “Wait, what does being a Christian have to do with food? Are you saying if I believed in Jesus, I’d get fed?”

“Exactly,” CC replied, pointing toward the rising sun along the East Coast. “There’s a church near the docks. A shipyard owner donated it. If you attend the morning Mass and listen to the priest read from the Bible, you get a free breakfast afterward.”

“A lot of dockworkers weren’t Christians originally,” she continued. “But after talking with the priest, they became believers. You, on the other hand—since you’re an atheist, we won’t force you. The priest says we have to respect everyone’s beliefs.”

She waved her hand dismissively as she started walking away. “I’m off to Mass. Figure out how to feed yourself, then come find me by the docks.”

“Wait!” Lin Xian grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

CC turned back, exasperated. “What now?”

“What did you say just now?” Lin Xian asked, his eyes intense.

CC frowned, thinking. “I said, since you’re an atheist, I’m not going to force—”

“No, not that.” Lin Xian shook his head. “Before that.”

CC blinked, tilting her head. “Before that? I said a lot of the dockworkers became believers after talking to the priest. What about it?”

Lin Xian smiled, releasing her wrist. He lifted his right hand, mimicking Jesus from the “Salvator Mundi” painting, his index and middle fingers pointing upward.

“Everyone can be converted,” he said, his voice sincere, his eyes shining. “I can talk too. I can believe in Jesus.”