Chapter Twenty-Four: Another Azhu

"Hey, Zhou Yi, what's going on with you?"

Zhou Yi looked at the chubby man, a new firmness in his eyes. "I think I've remembered something. But it doesn't seem directly related to this world, or to the version of myself here. I want to find someone to confirm whether these memories are real."

The chubby man was taken aback, not understanding Zhou Yi's roundabout explanation. "What do you mean?"

Zhou Yi shook his head. These things couldn't be explained in a sentence or two, and now that this guy was already involved, there was no way to let him go even if he wanted out—not for now. Otherwise, who knew what might happen? Was he supposed to let himself be trapped in this time loop forever?

"I can't explain much. My head is full of fragmented memories. In those, I lived in America and had a girlfriend named Meng Meizhu, but she died in June 2015. I broke out of prison and killed two murderers to avenge her. I don't know whether any of it is real, so I need to check if these memories actually exist. Or do you want to keep going over the stuff in the metal box, endlessly looping like you said?"

The chubby man shook his head, now resolute. "I don't want that. I came to you precisely because I don't want to keep going in circles. But wait a moment—I need to copy the data I just stole and store it here, then we can go."

Zhou Yi nodded, not stopping him. In truth, he wanted to point out that the fact they could connect to a signal here meant this place was no longer safe. If they failed this time, there might not even be another chance to loop.

The chubby man worked fast, copying everything in moments and packing it back into the metal box. He also took some new photos, carefully recording dates and conversations on the back. Zhou Yi didn’t stop him.

Once he had hidden everything and returned, Zhou Yi slung on his backpack. "I haven’t asked your name yet."

The chubby man grinned, looking a bit embarrassed. "I usually chat with people online, and everyone calls me 'Enchanting Fatty.' My real name is He Yuntian, but you can just call me Fatty, it feels more familiar. Or He Fatty, if you prefer."

Zhou Yi nodded and headed for the door, flashlight in hand to light the way as Fatty needed to shut off the generator.

"Your father retired?" Zhou Yi asked.

Fatty paused and glanced at Zhou Yi, sighing softly. "In that regard, we’re a lot alike. My mother died when I was very young. Last year, my father passed away—no one ever figured out what the illness was. From onset to death, it was just three or five days, but at least he didn’t suffer."

Zhou Yi sighed gently. Indeed, they were quite similar. Maybe that’s why Fatty felt some kinship with him. He patted Fatty’s shoulder, offering no words of comfort or apologies—he understood this feeling better than anyone.

"Let's go, let's get out of here."

The two of them left the air-raid shelter. Once outside, a tacit understanding fell between them; they said nothing and got into Zhou Yi’s car. He began searching on his laptop for information about the other Azhu from his fragmented memories.

This Azhu’s full name was Meng Meizhu, from Nanjing, both parents in business, fairly well-known. It was easy enough to find her home address, but according to the timeline, she had died in 2015. Zhou Yi hesitated, then entered Meng Meizhu’s information.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then several results appeared. Zhou Yi leaned in, stunned.

Seeing Zhou Yi’s reaction, Fatty peered over, his round face registering shock. "She's in the country? A first-year doctoral student at Jiangsu University? Isn't that here in Zhenjiang? Are you sure it's not just a duplicate name, or some kind of search error?"

Zhou Yi shook his head and performed a reverse search, pulling up information on Meng Meizhu’s parents. They were indeed in the medical equipment and remote transmission technology business—the company names, parents’ names, Meng Meizhu’s birthdate and ID number, everything matched. The only difference was that she had never gone abroad but was currently pursuing her doctorate at home.

Fatty looked confused, but even with a signal jammer running, he didn’t dare say much. Apart from the air-raid shelter, nowhere was really safe; just earlier, he’d been kicked out of the lab’s network he’d hacked into.

"So, what do we do next?"

Zhou Yi checked the time and closed his laptop. "Come with me to Wang Shengyu’s company first. We need to set things up here, no matter what. Tomorrow morning, you come with me to Jiangsu University."

Fatty nodded, clearly appreciating the arrangement, though he rubbed his stomach. "That’s fine, but is there anything to eat?"

...

The next day, 9:30 a.m., at the real estate company.

Zhou Yi put down his coffee cup. Employees were arriving at Wang Shengyu’s company one after another. He stood up and patted the shoulders of a few drowsy young men on the sofa.

They blinked sleepily; after all, they’d only gone to bed at dawn—they were exhausted.

"Boss!"

Zhou Yi gestured at the food on the table. "Get up and eat something, then get back to work. We’re nearly done upgrading everything here. I’m going home for a shower and will be back by noon. I figure we can finish the last bit in an hour this afternoon."

No one objected; after all, the hardest part of the night shift had been handled by Zhou Yi and his friend. They’d managed to get five or six hours of sleep and felt much better.

"Got it, boss. Take your time coming back—the rest is just grunt work, nothing technical. We can handle it."

Zhou Yi nodded, gathered Fatty, and left. The young men waved at Fatty—they appreciated him covering their shift so they could sleep.

The two of them took the elevator down to the second basement level. Last night, they’d parked in the underground garage, which had several reserved spots. A sapphire-blue Maybach stood out.

Fatty whistled softly, making Zhou Yi glance over. Fatty grinned sheepishly.

"Limited edition, now that’s something!"

Last night, Zhou Yi had checked Wang Shengyu’s assets—luxury cars were just another collectible for rich kids like him, no different from designer clothes or shoes.

Zhou Yi waved Fatty over. Fatty moved fast, shaking a small packet of powder onto the driver’s side door handle, then blowing away the excess. He lifted an impression with tape and raised his eyebrows at Zhou Yi before the two of them quickly got into Zhou Yi’s temporary car.

Fatty grinned, showing off the fingerprint. "I've got the equipment at home. Scan and print, and we can copy it."

Zhou Yi nodded. At least this would make getting into certain places easier. He said nothing more.

Fatty carefully stowed the tape as Zhou Yi started the car and headed for Jiangsu University. Along the way, Fatty contacted the school; he’d maintained their network before, so he knew exactly whom to call. After hanging up, Fatty beamed.

"All set. We’ll go straight to the doctoral building. You’ve pinpointed which lab she’s in?"

Zhou Yi nodded. "Yes. Can we get in?"

Fatty arched an eyebrow, smiling. "Leave it to me. I just confirmed it—they’ll give us temporary access badges at the gate."

As they arrived, Fatty jumped out first, spoke to the guard, signed in, and picked up the passes. Clearly, he was well-practiced at such things. Zhou Yi was relieved to leave this part to him.

He hadn’t told Fatty, but he’d also searched for information on the other version of himself from his memories—there was nothing. No record in any school, orphanage, or hospital in America. Had his appearance caused the other him to disappear? But then, who had he seen at the hospital?

All these questions unsettled Zhou Yi. He gripped the steering wheel, inhaled deeply, as Fatty returned, waving two temporary passes with a triumphant lift of his brows.

"Done. Let’s go!"

They drove into the campus, following navigation to the doctoral research building. It was nearly ten-thirty, and the courtyard was quiet. A security guard stopped them at the entrance.

"This is the doctoral research building. What’s your business here?"