When the bloody moonlight swallowed up the clock tower, Yuan Shijin held the bronze pocket watch.
The moment the gears clicked together, the 21-year-old female student was annihilated in the turbulence of time and space, and the 79th Time Weaver was born with the sound of cracking silk.
The cyan Tang suit has a broken sundial embroidered with gold thread. She runs through the frost and snow of different eras, and the hem of her cheongsam is always stained with gunpowder smoke from another world.
In the heavy rain in Bianjing, the assassin's dagger was three inches away from the throat, the general's armor on Chang'an's Zhuque Street was still warm, and the Browning pistol in the Concession Ballroom in 1937 still had half a white camellia stuck in it - every reincarnation would push that figure in front of you, sometimes it was an old enemy, sometimes it was a close friend, but it was always an inevitable fate.
"The repairer will eventually become the crack itself." The prophecy on the Dunhuang fragments appeared during the seventh time. Yuan Shijin looked at the unconscious chemistry professor on the hospital bed in the Republic of China. The bullet hole in his left arm formed a perfect symmetry with the gunshot wound in his waist. When the gauze was lifted to reveal the same mark of the Time Weaver as hers, the Huangpu River in 1911 was flowing backward at their feet.
Under the silver uniform of the Space-Time Administration, the chief inspector failed to erase her memory for the third time. "You are not the chosen one at all," he pulled open his collar to reveal a hideous old wound. The scar fit like a puzzle with the birthmark on Yuan Shijin's back neck. "We are symbionts cursed by time and space. Every time we meet, we accelerate the disintegration of the world line."
The bronze pocket watch began to beat counterclockwise, and Yuan Shijin saw countless versions of himself in the Victorian Palace of Mirrors: the one holding his lover's head, the one who stabbed his lover's heart with a long knife, the one who looked at each other through the flames of war but could never get close. The mirror in the darkest place suddenly shattered, and a fifteen-year-old girl huddled in the orphanage of the Republic of China, holding half a blood-stained pocket watch in her hand - that was the snowy night she was "chosen".
"Save the common people, or save one person?" When the inspector stood in front of her time and space anchor for the seventy-ninth time, Yuan Jin finally understood the sadness in his eyes. At this moment, the evening bell in Shanghai and the evening drum in Chang'an City are roaring at the same time. She holds not only the power of time and space, but also the answer that she dared not touch in her seventy-eight reincarnations.
The gold threads on the cheongsam began to burn her skin, and this time she saw clearly - those so-called gifts given by fate, as early as the moment the Time Weaver was born, had a price tag that would overturn the world.
Intention: Travel through every time and space and find the meaning of moving forward