That was a very good dream.

Or perhaps it wasn’t a dream.

It was them, in another worldline.

Before entering that dream, Ming Weiting was resting in the chaise lounge with his little mister.

The cruise ship, having said goodbye to its friends, had become quiet. The moonlight was bright, the night sky clear and full of stars. The hands of the clock tower in the distance were moving unhurriedly. Ming Chi leaned on his shoulder, their hands intertwined. Because the night wind had started to have a chill, the warmth right next to him was particularly noticeable.

Ming Weiting somewhat wanted to write in his log, but the little mister’s log was already very detailed, leaving very little room for him to add anything.

Besides, at this time, it was more suitable to do nothing at all.

Ming Weiting slightly adjusted his position to make them both more comfortable.

He turned his head and looked seriously at the peacefully sleeping Ming Chi. Perhaps he had been gazing for too long, for when he moved his gaze back to the night sky, a star suddenly shone dazzlingly bright.

It was a crystal-clear, brilliant light like a diamond. The dazzling brightness made one instinctively close their eyes. The next second, the clock tower suddenly chimed, a long, drawn-out sound without any warning.

It wasn’t any hour on the dot; logically, there shouldn’t have been a chime.

Just like that, without any warning, Ming Weiting entered a dream.

…

He was still on the cruise ship, but he was no longer beside his little mister.

There was no chaise lounge on the living room balcony. There were no seashell decorations on the table. In the corner of the room, there was no hand drum, no guitar. On the walls, there were no warm-colored, relaxing paintings.

The sofa was neat and empty. The Mediterranean-style blanket they had woven together while admiring the scenery in a small street-side shop was gone, as were the soft throw pillows they had casually bought.

The adorable little wooden carvings on the bookshelf were nowhere to be found, nor were the postcards and souvenirs collected from every place they visited—the little mister had a very good aesthetic sense and eye, always able to find overlooked, very interesting little things.

There was a rusty, palm-sized curved knife that a stall owner had given them as a gift. Ming Chi had taken it back, carefully polished it to remove the rust, and after washing and polishing it, it had revealed an unusually simple and exquisite, intricate pattern.

That knife was later sent to a metalworker for restoration and rust-proofing. The chipped parts were re-inlaid with gems, and it was used as a letter opener in the study. When it was left at the counter, a collector guest on the ship had inadvertently seen it and had offered a very generous high price…

…Because all the changes had been so subtle and gradual, the master of the room had almost never even had the time to realize that everything was already so different.

In the years before he met Ming Chi again, this room had maintained its current neatness and order day after day, never having been rashly disturbed.

At that time, he had not felt there was any problem with this. It was only until every corner was filled, bit by bit, and everything was filled with new colors.

Now, everything had disappeared without a trace, gone who knows where.

The bookshelf was very neatly organized, without any superfluous items, only the neatly arranged books remaining.

There were no other person’s clothes in the closet, and there was only one set of bedding. The “Sailing Log” on the desk was still very new. In the day-to-day monotonous cycle, there was no sign of it being frequently opened to record the bits and pieces of each day.

The placement and setting of the items were exactly the same as in the past, as if there was no trace of a third person having been in this room besides him and Uncle Lu.

…

This feeling was not good at all.

For a few seconds, Ming Weiting stood motionless on the spot, not knowing what to do. He stood on the balcony, trying to figure out what had happened.

Fortunately, this process of thought was not too long—the calendar on the desk quickly drew the necessary attention.

Although the date on the calendar was correct, the year was significantly different. It seemed he had accidentally entered some branch line from eleven years ago.

If this branch line had not changed, at this point in time, this ship happened to have temporarily applied for docking due to avoiding sudden severe weather, stopping at an unfamiliar pier that was not on its route.

The clock tower near the pier would chime on the hour, and the long, drawn-out chimes could be heard from far away at night. There were clusters of reefs and beaches nearby. If one walked a little further along the beach, one would see a very distinctive villa.

The owner of the villa would invite tourists to a bonfire party and would gently push his little child out by the shoulders. He would sit by the fire, cheering and applauding with everyone, rubbing the super cool little child’s ears until they were scorching hot and red.

The sound of a guitar would flow along the night to the ship’s side. As long as one got off the ship and followed the sound, one would run into a ball of warmth in the wind.

As for himself, it seemed he had not regressed to eleven years ago—he did not belong to this worldline. This was a matter of course.

He did not belong here. He had his own world, his own little mister.

He had to go back to find his own little mister as soon as possible, but before that, there were some things that had to be done.

Ming Weiting did not delay any longer. He left the room, conducted a simple search on the cruise ship, and quickly came to some preliminary conclusions.

For some reason, the people on the ship could not see him, nor could they have any interaction with him.

This point actually provided a lot of convenience—he used his old password to open his computer. By the way, before falling into this dream, the computer’s password had long since been changed to the date of Ming Chi’s successful surgery.

That day was designated as the little mister’s new birthday.

From now on, they would celebrate every birthday together. There would be a gift every birthday, and he would be the first to say “happy birthday” to the little mister.

Ming Weiting sat on the sofa. He let himself pause at this step for a moment, focused on recalling the details of these events for a few minutes, and successfully offset the lingering unease brought by this empty room.

He let himself recall Ming Chi reading on the sofa.

The room was warm and quiet. He sat beside Ming Chi, occasionally using the computer to handle some work.

The new captain was far more diligent than he was. Ming Chi could patiently go through those tedious professional books page by page, then sort out the parts he had questions about and ask him together.

Ming Chi’s hair was very easy to ruffle when he was reading. When he was comfortable, he would be more relaxed than usual. At this time, if he put an arm around his shoulders, he could make him lean on his shoulder without him noticing.

Ming Chi was already very careful about protecting his back, but occasionally when he was tired from reading, he would still apply to curl up in a corner and play games for a while, so he would put his hand behind Ming Chi’s back.

Ming Chi used this game to train his reaction speed and finger dexterity, skillfully making the little character jump onto the subway, cleanly shaking off the relentlessly pursuing administrator and vicious dog, and always getting a very high score.

He would occasionally take over and try to operate it, but he usually couldn’t run more than a few steps. Later, Ming Chi would cooperate with him, and the two of them would tackle that small screen together, guiding the little character to nimbly flip over and leap into the air to eat that string of gold coins.

He would also occasionally think of the letter Ming Chi had left for him before the surgery.

If there was any accident during the surgery, he had to become very good at the game to unlock that encrypted file and see the contents of that letter.

That was a score that was very difficult for him to achieve. He was very bad at this kind of thing. Unless, in the next few years, even when he couldn’t sleep alone, he didn’t spend the whole night thinking about his little mister, but instead spent all that time playing games, it would be possible to reach that level through practice.

But he had obtained the luckiest possibility—the little mister had woken up after the surgery, looked through the notes he had left before, and the first thing he did was to quickly and cleanly delete that letter.

The little mister had said that he didn’t need to say anything in a letter; he would slowly tell him everything in the future.

…

Ming Weiting thought like this for a while, until his chest also warmed up, and he continued to regain his focus. He spent some time temporarily using Mr. Ming’s identity on the computer to find out the information he needed.

Any slight change would lead to many subsequent things becoming different. In this worldline, it seemed that Madam Ren had not specifically gotten married for the sake of her family’s expectations, nor did she have a son.

Because no one was pulling strings from the shadows anymore, Luo Zhi quickly lost all hope in the Luo family. The Luo family’s heir, of course, did not receive that tie clip as a gift, and that business deal ultimately fell through.

The head of the Luo family was extremely dissatisfied with his eldest son and went to discuss business with the other party himself. But he had not expected that the powerful multinational group opposite him had little interest in the Luo family. Instead, the founder was quite appreciative of the young Luo Zhi and wanted to take him as a student.

The inertia of the worldline still existed. The head of the Luo family wanted to take Luo Zhi home because of this matter. Luo Zhi’s mother, hearing this news from somewhere, had a hysterical fit and, in the midst of an argument, still pushed the young Luo Zhi off the balcony.

Luo Zhi had hit his head this time and was in a coma in the hospital, unable to wake up. During a head CT scan, an abnormal lesion was also unexpectedly discovered, which needed to be treated as soon as possible.

The head of the Luo family had already agreed to take Luo Zhi to see that old gentleman. Unexpectedly, this accident had occurred. In a rage, he had someone investigate the cause, but unexpectedly, the truth about the two lost children from back then was uncovered.

Luo Zhi had woken up after a few days in a coma, but he would sit alone all day without speaking, letting the doctors formulate a treatment plan. He was also completely uninterested in the sudden change in attitude of the Luo family, just looking out the window from morning till night.

It was not until the news could no longer be hidden that Madam Ren learned the truth, rushed over in a fury, and kicked out the whole family. Only then was the matter temporarily settled.

The lesion was growing very slowly and currently had no symptoms. Treatment could be carried out gradually over two or three years. Luo Zhi was taken back to the Seaview Villa by Madam Ren to recuperate, and he had not seen the Luo family since.

…

Ming Weiting closed the computer.

He had originally wanted to leave a message on the computer, but according to his understanding of himself, if he found such a file on his computer, he would most likely delete it directly as a malicious internet attack or a virus, and would not necessarily believe its contents completely.

Ming Weiting stood up. He walked to the desk, opened the completely blank “Sailing Log,” and took out his usual fountain pen from the pen holder.

Ming Weiting wrote many things in the log.

He wrote down everything he could think of that needed attention. He wrote about the physical examination Madam Ren had to have as soon as possible, wrote about reminding his father to avoid that shipwreck, and also wrote about all of his little mister’s personality and preferences.

He told his ten-years-ago self in the log that there would be such a person, and that life after meeting this person would become completely different.

—That kind of difference was like a mirage suddenly turning into a real castle in an instant.

As long as you jumped up and pushed open the door, as long as you walked in, you would walk into a completely different world.

In that world, rainy days were likable, and sunny days were also likable. Sunrises were beautiful, and sunsets were beautiful. Peach candy was delicious, and grapes were the best fruit in the world. The most ordinary bits and pieces were as numerous as the water in the sea, and so many of those ordinary bits and pieces were happy, making one reluctant to miss them.

There would be such a person, and after meeting this person, you would have a ship on the shore.

He understood himself and knew what he would do. So he didn’t explain any more, just wrote on the next page that there would be a bonfire party in the evening.

At that bonfire party, there would be the brightest and most fiery ball of fire he had ever seen, and that fire had to be free.

So.

Ming Weiting heard footsteps. He quickly wrote down the last few words on the paper, then capped the fountain pen and placed it on the open sailing log.

He watched his seventeen-year-old self walk into the study and see the words in the log.

—So, get off the ship.