When the future becomes a tombstone, is time travel a curse or a gift?
She is the only shooting star in his eternal night, and he is the only anchor point in her disorderly wandering.
Lin Xinghui, a modern medical student, tore apart time and space in severe pain and fell into the most absurd funeral of the 23rd century - under the black dome. Shen Yuan in his twilight years was paying tribute to her. The date of the tombstone was three days later. In order to escape the pursuit of crystal worms and the prison of language, she was forced to struggle to survive in the chaotic time and space of the Qinling Blood Warriors, the Black Death Village, and the AI governed area, but she always met Shen Yuan of different ages: a silk merchant in Chang'an of the Han Dynasty handed over a linen robe, a scimitar in the ancient Roman arena to cut off the chain, and he hacked into the system with his bare hands when the neck ring locked up emotions in the 22nd century...
Shen Yuan, the immortal who sits in the cracks of human civilization. From a Roman aristocrat to a civilized observer, he has accumulated thousands of years of omniscience and compassion just to protect the only light in the turbulent flow of time and space. When Lin Xinghui used future knowledge to ignite an industrial revolution uprising and used hygiene concepts to shake the medieval Vatican, the torrent of history crushed all efforts - child labor was reduced to ashes in the incinerator, allies were crucified, and good intentions triggered a global hunt for AI. In vain, the star path map reveals the cruel truth: her time travel is a forced calibration of Shen Yuan's existence by time, and the funeral closed loop has long been doomed.
In order to contend with the absurd fate, she jumped into the Byzantine sea of fire with her particle body, and handed the unsent rose to the young Shen Yuan; he cut off the eternal blood and built an oasis that only existed in memory in the mezzanine of the abyss of time. When the human interstellar treaty was on the verge of collapse, she pushed the gilt tea cup across the negotiation table: "Before the tea cools, please take a look at the Rose Nebula.
The torrent ignores the glimmer, but the rock remembers every scratch.
