Ming Weiting had seen the message in that blank journal.

The phrasing and handwriting were his own, and it mentioned some details that only he would know.

Ming Weiting had asked Uncle Lu and confirmed that he did not have a habit of sleepwalking. So, perhaps things were indeed as the journal said: this was a reminder left by another version of himself.

Ming Weiting stood by the reef. He lowered his head and looked at the conch shell Luo Chi handed him.

The conch was very beautiful, with red patterns dotting its snow-white shell, its edges polished to an exceptionally soft luster.

Luo Chi looked up, his soft, stray hairs gently swept aside by the sea breeze. A thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead. He held the conch shell he had prepared as a gift in one hand, and his guitar in the other.

Those eyes were as dark and bright as if they had been washed with water, holding a soft curiosity. With a gentle blink, they curved into a smile.

Ming Weiting looked into Luo Chi’s eyes. He whispered a “thank you,” and the hand behind his back clenched slightly. He didn’t immediately take out his own not-so-successful shell ornament.

The occurrence of this event did not conform to known scientific principles—of course, if one were to consider multi-world theory, quantum entanglement, and wave function collapse, there might be a slim possibility.

But he was not good at physics. His understanding of these terms was actually limited to a physicist on the cruise ship. The other party was said to have made considerable achievements in the quantum field but seemed a bit clumsy in other matters. However, he was very sincere and was currently trying to use these terms to pursue an opera singer who was a resident performer on the ship.

Due to unexpectedly encountering bad weather, the cruise ship was forced to apply for a temporary docking at an unfamiliar port this time. The itinerary would be delayed by a few days, and that physicist was probably the happiest among the passengers.

---

Ming Weiting had actually been standing here for a long time.

If the one who left the message in the journal was indeed another version of himself, he wouldn’t use anything to deceive him. He had made sufficient and cautious preparations, practiced what he wanted to say in advance, and also prepared a handmade item to show his admiration.

But now it seemed that his preparations were far from enough.

It was a completely indescribable feeling—like trying to explain what a fire is to someone who has never seen anything burn.

He didn’t approach the crowd, just stood here, but he could clearly hear the lively and enthusiastic melody.

Those melodies were vibrant and brilliant, causing people on the ship to also come out of their rooms and onto the deck to listen from afar. The evening wind grew fiery hot in the sound of the guitar.

It was the first time someone like this had come into his world. He looked at the young man in the distance holding a guitar, like a dazzlingly bright fire, and also like the freest wind traversing the sea.

Ming Weiting had seen many different kinds of travelers. He had been following his family’s cruise line since he was fifteen. Although the scope of the ship was limited, people were constantly coming and going. Even a brief passing was enough for someone living on the ship to have some understanding of the shore.

He had never heard such a guitar solo. This made him not regret his decision to get off the ship at all—he only felt a little regret that he should have done a better job when preparing the shell ornament.

Ming Weiting thanked him solemnly again and still handed over the gift he had prepared.

Luo Chi looked at the pavilion made of shells in front of him, stunned in surprise for a long while before realizing it was a gift for him. This was the first time Luo Chi had received a gift from a friend. He examined the shell ornament in his hand carefully for a long time, and his ears suddenly burned red. He also whispered a “thank you.”

“Huo Miao.” Luo Chi gave him his conch shell. “You can call me Huo Miao.”

Ming Weiting called him softly, “Huo Miao.”

Luo Chi’s eyes brightened, and he pressed his lips together firmly. He took the initiative to take his new friend’s hand.

Ming Weiting looked at him, tentatively offered his hand, bent down slightly, and took the hand of the little flame who was hugging the shell pavilion to his chest. He carefully put away the conch shell and followed the pull from his hand, walking out of the shadow of the reef.

Ren Shuangmei couldn’t find her little one anywhere, but she wasn’t anxious at all. She was holding a handful of hot skewers, eating while calling for Huo Miao to come back and release the sky lanterns.

Luo Chi had found a friend at the edge of the beach. Hearing the call, his eyes immediately lit up. He stood on his tiptoes, waved his hand, and answered loudly, “Mom!”

Ren Shuangmei pinpointed the little one’s direction. She spotted the figure next to Huo Miao at a glance, immediately put the skewers back, wiped her hands, and stood up.

Ming Weiting lowered his head and asked, “Is that your mom?”

Luo Chi stood waiting for his mom to come over, his chest and shoulders straight, and nodded vigorously without hesitation.

Ming Weiting asked, “How is your mom’s health? Has she had a check-up?”

Luo Chi was startled and looked up, carefully examining Ming Weiting.

“Health is very important,” Ming Weiting said. “And yours too.”

Ming Weiting asked, “May I invite your mom and you to be guests on the cruise ship? Because of the temporary docking, we have a free health check-up program available that you can experience.”

Luo Chi looked at his new friend’s serious expression, stunned for a few seconds. Then, as if he had suddenly understood something, his eyes slowly widened. … If he said something like this to his mom, he would definitely be treated as a strange salesman and unceremoniously chased back to the ship.

But he seemed to understand.

Perhaps miraculous things hadn’t happened only to him.

Perhaps as long as he walked in this direction, not too far, he would definitely be able to find a very special friend.

“Mom had a check-up, and when they found a lesion, she had surgery immediately. She had a follow-up two days ago and is completely fine now. She just needs to pay attention to her diet, rest, and exercise in the future.”

Luo Chi seemed to know what he wanted to ask. He lowered his voice and told his new friend in one breath, “I’ll have my surgery in a while. The weather will be cooler then, and the wound will heal better.”

Luo Chi had a very detailed check-up before being discharged from the hospital, and he explained it carefully to him. “The doctor said it’s a small problem, it’s fine. Even in a few years, it won’t have much of an impact.”

Ming Weiting turned back, listening intently to every word he said. Only after hearing the end did he feel completely relieved, letting out a breath and nodding.

He looked at the little flame standing before him with his chest puffed out and head held high, full of spirit. It was as if he had vaguely guessed something, and a smile appeared in his eyes. “That’s great.” Ming Weiting stroked his hair. “How are you so amazing?”

Luo Chi pressed his lips together, his ears burning. He took his hand and introduced him to Ren Shuangmei, who was walking over quickly. “This is my friend, Mom. He comes from the sea.”

Ming Weiting withdrew his hand, bowed his shoulders solemnly to greet Madam Ren, introduced himself, and then explained the details about the cruise ship as thoroughly as possible.

Ren Shuangmei raised an eyebrow slightly, looking at the unfamiliar young man who had been brought over, and didn’t speak immediately.

She listened as Ming Weiting explained his situation, occasionally asking a question or two. She also noticed the gift that Huo Miao had exchanged and asked in detail about how the two had met.

“That’s so cool.” Ren Shuangmei was a little curious, pulling the little one into her arms. “Do you just live on the sea all the time?”

Ming Weiting nodded. “You get used to it, and it feels normal.”

He had grown up on the ship and only got off with his family on very rare occasions, occasionally going to an island for a short vacation, but most of the time he was more accustomed to staying on his own cruise ship. As for this kind of port connected to land, it was actually his first time leaving the ship to go ashore, the first time he had seen so many land-dwellers.

Ren Shuangmei asked, “Is it uncomfortable coming ashore?”

Ming Weiting shook his head. “The shore is very nice.”

Ren Shuangmei wasn’t asking about that. Hearing this, she smiled, handed the sky lantern she had brought to Huo Miao, and gave one to him as well.

There was no custom of releasing sky lanterns on the ship. Ming Weiting said his thanks, took it with both hands, and looked down at the thin, transparent paper cover pasted on the bamboo frame in his hands.

He wasn’t sure how to release this lantern. Before he could ask, Huo Miao had already taken it neatly and helped him open up the lantern’s body.

“On shore, we release sky lanterns by the sea to make wishes.”

Ren Shuangmei explained to him, “Close your eyes and speak to the lantern in your heart, then let the flying lantern carry it away, all the way to the sea.”

Ming Weiting was taught step-by-step by Huo Miao. He slowed his movements, holding the lantern body that looked like it would break with a single poke. “It can fly?”

“It can fly if you light it.” Luo Chi nodded. “It can fly very high, very far.” He propped the lantern up and took a windproof match from his pocket. “It will only fall when the fuel runs out.”

Ming Weiting understood his words. “If the fuel never runs out, and the fire keeps burning, it can fly very high and very far forever.”

Luo Chi nodded. He thought carefully for a moment, then sighed with regret. “Unfortunately, there’s no fire that never burns out.”

“There will be,” Ming Weiting said. “It will burn very brightly and fiercely, so everyone can see.”

Luo Chi was a little surprised to hear this, his eyes widening.

Ming Weiting nodded at him seriously, helped Huo Miao prop up all three lanterns, and watched the boy standing by the sea press his forehead against the lantern’s body, closing his eyes sincerely to make a wish.

A hand suddenly rested lightly on his shoulder.

Ming Weiting looked up and met Madam Ren’s gaze.

“Being on the ship all the time, is it uncomfortable coming ashore?”

Ren Shuangmei asked again. Before he could answer, she smiled. “When I was young, the thing I wanted to do most was to take a ship out to sea, be free and make the world my home… I stayed for about three months, and it took me a year to get used to being back on shore.”

Her voice was very gentle. Ming Weiting was startled, hesitated for a moment before nodding, and then explained, “It’s alright, the effect isn’t that great.”

Ren Shuangmei didn’t ask any more questions, just gently pressed his shoulder.

Ming Weiting helped pick up the lantern and was about to hand it over when he suddenly heard Ren Shuangmei ask, “What made you think to remind Huo Miao to have us get a health check-up?”

Not expecting her to have heard their conversation, Ming Weiting’s movements paused, and he looked up at Madam Ren.

Ren Shuangmei took the sky lantern and was looking at him, her gaze very serious.

Ming Weiting did not answer immediately.

“Huo Miao too, he woke up one day and was suddenly anxious for me to get a check-up.”

Ren Shuangmei said softly, “I think he probably had a very bad dream… I tried to think, if I were gone, what would happen to the little one?”

“I couldn’t,” Ren Shuangmei said. “The more I thought about it, the sadder I felt.”

Ming Weiting shook his head. “Your recovery is more important than anything.”

Ren Shuangmei was taken aback, then smiled. “My own problem isn’t a big deal. There’s a way to live at forty, and a way to live at a hundred. I can always find a way to be happy.”

She paused here, silent for a while, then suddenly shook her head and laughed. “What I’m thinking might be a bit outrageous… but this whole thing is strange anyway. Maybe there really is some parallel universe, some mysterious force. The physicist said it was possible, didn’t he?”

“I have no impression of you,” Ren Shuangmei looked at him. “I’ve never seen you before, have I?”

Ming Weiting nodded.

Ren Shuangmei asked again, “Who sent you here to find the little one, to tell us to get a health check-up? May I ask?”

Ming Weiting did not answer immediately. He seemed to be thinking about how to explain, but couldn’t find a more convincing explanation.

Ren Shuangmei didn’t seem to want an answer either.

She just looked at Ming Weiting, her expression exceptionally serious. “Thank you.”

Ming Weiting shook his head.

The words he had prepared on the ship were all said. Ming Weiting hadn’t prepared in advance how to explain the matter of the journal, but he actually really wanted to make it clear. The message in it explained the matter very clearly.

It was because that fire was too bright and warm—it is in human nature to be drawn to light, just as a ship at night seeks a lighthouse. Even if only a little warmth of that fire remained unextinguished, there would certainly be people drawn to it.

Ren Shuangmei seemed to have understood these unspoken words, yet she still thanked him warmly, looking up and opening her arms to hug Huo Miao, who came running after releasing the sky lantern.

She quickly gave the little one who had pounced into her arms a good tousle, and chased after him, asking what secret wish Huo Miao had made, threatening to tickle him if he didn’t confess truthfully.

The little one laughed until he couldn’t breathe, then took out the matches again, and warmly pulled his mom and new friend to release sky lanterns together.

The flame was contained by the thin paper. In an instant, the hot air puffed up the paper cover, and a warm, orange-yellow light shone.

Under the sky lanterns rising higher and farther away, Ren Shuangmei held Huo Miao’s hand and looked at Ming Weiting.

She looked at Ming Weiting, and it was as if she was looking through the young man before her to see another shadow—some assumptions were too bizarre, too incredible, but thinking about them in detail was too sad. So, Ren Shuangmei asked nothing and said nothing.

Ren Shuangmei just held Huo Miao’s hand tightly. She held that hand so tightly and firmly that no matter what happened, they would never be separated.

Tonight was very suitable for releasing sky lanterns.

The sea was calm and vast. The light of the bonfire burned on the water. The three lanterns rose into the night together, flying high and far.

“Thank you,” Ren Shuangmei said to Ming Weiting. “Thank you for taking care of our little one.”