Chapter One 00848

Shanghai, Qingfu Prison.

In an ordinary office, the air was thick with the pungent smell of tobacco.

A handsome young man with delicate features, dressed in an orange prison vest and sporting a smooth, rounded bald head, sat loosely in his chair. He leaned back, his feet tapping against the floor in rhythmic alternation, causing the chair to creak and sway.

The young man’s name was Ren Ye, prisoner number 00848, currently serving his sentence in the general ward.

Across a clean, tidy long table sat a scruffy, middle-aged man. With a cigarette clamped between his fingers and his left hand digging at the corner of his eye, the man asked, "You’ve been serving time for over three years now?"

"Three years, three months, and five days," Ren Ye nodded.

"Right. I’m Huang Wei." The scruffy man wore an old leather jacket, his eyes bleary and his voice low, radiating an aura of utter lethargy.

*Ahem.*

*Cough, cough, ptooey!*

After a deep inhale, Huang Wei coughed violently several times before spitting a wad of yellow phlegm into his mouth. Finding no trash can nearby, he finally spat it into an empty cigarette pack, crushed it with his hand, and tossed it onto the table.

Ren Ye observed him with an expressionless face, though he wondered inwardly: Is this guy a supervisor? From the psychological correction department? Or an inspector? His habits were so uncouth he didn't look like any of those.

Huang Wei took a deep drag from his cigarette, holding it between his thumb and index finger, and asked, "How much longer until you get out?"

"Including sentence reduction, two years, eight months, and twenty-five days."

"Hm. Any regrets?" Huang Wei asked, as if making casual conversation.

"Heh." Ren Ye smiled.

"Still young. Too impulsive," Huang Wei said, pointing a finger at Ren Ye rather rudely. "I’ve seen your file. It’s a bit of a pity."

"Being young is the only time you get to make mistakes. After six years inside, I’ll still be Ren Ye. Nothing will have changed," Ren Ye replied with a lighthearted air. "Besides, it’s not bad here. My roommates are all craftsmen—skilled in singing, dancing, and playing instruments. I’m quite content."

"Heh." A rare trace of a smile appeared on Huang Wei’s dark-purple cheeks.

Over three years ago, Ren Ye, who had just started working in border anti-fraud operations, had been escorting suspects when two of them attempted a violent escape. He fired seven shots, killing both of them before they could cross the border.

One week before this incident, a colleague—Ren Ye’s closest friend—had been dismembered and buried alive by this same group of suspects abroad. To this day, only his arms and torso had been recovered.

That colleague was an only child, newly married, and his wife had been eight months pregnant when he was sacrificed.

Because the crime occurred outside the country, gathering evidence was difficult. The two primary suspects Ren Ye killed would likely only have been charged with fraud and money laundering had they stood trial… and they almost certainly wouldn't have faced the death penalty.

His unit tried everything to protect him, but the difficulty of the case lay in the fact that he had fired seven shots—the suspects' heads had been shattered.

In the end, Ren Ye was sentenced to six years and ten months in prison.

Any regrets?

Though he appeared relaxed, even cynical, Ren Ye had asked himself that question many times in his heart. After all, transitioning from a respected officer to a socially ostracized murderer was a difficult process.

It wasn't just hard on others; it was especially hard on himself.

From his current situation, he certainly felt regret. But the irony of life is that many things you regret are things you would choose to do again if given the chance.

This left Ren Ye filled with an internal conflict he could never speak of to anyone.

***

Huang Wei crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, pulled out a new pack, and lit another without pause. "I’m from a special unit."

"I could guess," Ren Ye nodded.

"Everything I’m about to tell you may be hard for you to digest or understand. It might even be overly shocking or confusing," Huang Wei said, his brow furrowed in seriousness. "But I believe that given your background, you won’t lose your composure."

Ren Ye was puzzled. "Shocking? Confusing? I don’t follow."

"Let me tell you two stories first."

"Will it take long? I have to work the sewing machine to earn merit points tomorrow," Ren Ye teased.

Huang Wei ignored him and carefully organized his thoughts. "1973, the 'Reincarnated Person' incident. In the south, there was a family named Jiang. Their son was three years old, let’s call him Little Jiang. One day, this three-year-old child suddenly told his parents, 'I am not your son, but the son of a family in Danzhou. I died in a gang fight over ten years ago and was reincarnated into your family. Now, I want to go back to find my former parents and see them.' The Jiangs didn't believe it at first, thinking the child was possessed, but they couldn't withstand his constant pleading. He repeated the details of his past life every single day. So, when he was six, they took him to Danzhou."

*Is this a 'Science Discovery' episode? A folk legend?*

Ren Ye wondered if this scruffy man was either a fan of amateur theatrics or worked for some metaphysical unit. *What does he want?*

Huang Wei’s eyes looked bloodshot and vacant, but as he spoke, his pupils were tracking Ren Ye’s micro-expressions. The look of a man watching a lunatic was exactly what he had expected.

"…When they arrived in Danzhou, under the boy’s guidance, the Jiangs found a specific house with ease, and the child never took a wrong turn. Once there, the boy recognized his father from his past life. The man thought the child was spouting nonsense, but… every single detail of daily life the boy recounted matched the man’s reality perfectly, without a single error." Huang Wei spoke with great earnestness and a solemn expression.

Ren Ye listened, then said, "Oh, and then?"

"Then, the second story." Huang Wei had a natural gift for storytelling, his voice rich with magnetism. "In January 1995, a research station in Antarctica discovered a massive cloud of fog in the sky. Strangely, there were strong winds at the time, yet the cloud remained completely motionless, showing no signs of drifting. From its shape, the fog looked like a circular gate. To test it, they tethered a balloon equipped with precision instruments and sent it into the 'fog gate.' When they pulled it back at the designated time… they discovered that the time displayed on the instruments had changed to a moment in 1965. Initially, they thought the equipment had malfunctioned, so they replaced it with many identical devices and ran repeat tests… but the result was the same. All the instruments showed 1965, down to the exact second."

Ren Ye frowned, thinking for a moment before replying, "I think I’ve seen this news headline before…!"

"What the news didn't tell you is that years later, the fog appeared again. Three people vanished, and they have yet to be found," Huang Wei interrupted, his face grim.

After a long silence, Ren Ye couldn't help but ask, "That’s it?"

"Yeah, that’s it," Huang Wei nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"No, I don’t get it. What’s the point of telling me these two stories?" Ren Ye asked, confused.

The room fell silent; you could hear a pin drop.

Huang Wei looked directly into Ren Ye’s eyes. "I just wanted to tell you that humans know too little about this world, let alone the universe. Strange things may be happening in this world every single moment."

Ren Ye quickly calmed down and analyzed the situation.

A man who could meet with him after 11:00 PM, a man who could ensure no prison staff were present and that there was enough privacy for their conversation—he couldn't be here just to fool him with two metaphysical ghost stories.

"There is an opportunity for you to leave this place," Huang Wei said calmly. "The price is… you might die."

The grating sound of the chair against the floor ceased. Ren Ye sat up straight and raised an eyebrow. "Die?"

"To be precise, this isn't a demand, or a chance to redeem yourself through service—it’s a request," Huang Wei explained earnestly.

"Heh, and who is requesting me?" Ren Ye asked with a smile.

"I can't tell you too much until you sign a series of documents," Huang Wei paused, suddenly elevating the tone of the conversation. "As for who is requesting your help, it’s hard to say. The public? The leadership? Your colleagues? Including myself… In short, our nation is experiencing some things—difficult things."

At this point, Ren Ye stopped asking questions. Huang Wei focused on his cigarette, giving him time to think.

***

After a long while, Ren Ye suddenly looked up. "Do you remember what I told you earlier?"

Huang Wei paused, his eyes slightly perplexed.

"I have two years, eight months, and twenty-five days left until I get out," Ren Ye repeated precisely.

Huang Wei understood him instantly. "I said, this is not about redeeming yourself."

"I know," Ren Ye nodded slowly. "I’ve been here for over three years. My sister and my old man come to see me once a month. I have a family. During this time, they’ve probably been suffering more than I have, and they are all waiting for me to go back."

"If this opportunity succeeds, it will be enough to change your life," Huang Wei looked up at a forty-degree angle, seemingly at a loss for words. "A… a magnificent life that you could never imagine."

"Like you said, that’s an 'if'."

Silence.

"…Alright, my job here is done." After a while, Huang Wei stood up, crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, and called out decisively, "Talk’s over. You can take him back."

A moment later, a voice echoed in the corridor: "00848!"

Ren Ye stood up almost instinctively, his hands placed along the seams of his trousers, his posture rigid as he shouted, "Here!"

"Wait at the exit, get ready to return to the ward."

"Yes," Ren Ye replied.

Huang Wei picked up Ren Ye’s file, brushed the cigarette ash off his legs, and headed straight for the door.

Ren Ye turned and swung his arms, walking toward the other exit like a soldier, then clasped his hands behind his head, bent over, and squatted against the wall.

It was a position he had forced countless suspects into himself…

Footsteps sounded. Huang Wei reached the main office door. He had intended to leave immediately, but seeing Ren Ye quietly squatting in the reflection of the glass, he suddenly stopped.

He turned around and called out abruptly, "Ren Ye!"

"Huh?!"

Ren Ye remained in his squatting position, hands behind his head. He didn't look up, only lifting his eyes to look at the man.

Under the light, Huang Wei stood at the door, suddenly brought his feet together, slowly raised his arm, and gave a standard salute. "Officer Ren, well done."

Ren Ye was stunned.

"Those two pieces of trash certainly deserved to die," Huang Wei said, enunciating every word.

Just that one sentence… the man crouching there felt his eyes instantly well up with tears, his impenetrable defenses slowly collapsing. "You… what did you just call me?"

"Officer Ren."

"Ah, that sounds a bit unfamiliar," Ren Ye nodded, breaking into a grin.