Revolving lantern, back to zero

When Lin Shen left the hospital, the three-hour wind was blowing from the river, carrying the fishy smell of water and the acrid smell of coal from the distant chemical plant. He stood in the middle of the parking lot, looking up at the sky. The city lights were too bright to see the stars, but the two stars in his pupils were still there, one on the left and one on the right, like two thumbtacks pinned to black velvet.

The scar on his chest throbbed. Not in a panicked way, but rhythmically, steadily, like a drumbeat. The direction of the third star wasn't on the level of consciousness, not in the coordinates of a parallel world—it was beneath his feet. In his world. On the streets he walked every day.

Lin Shen got into the car but didn't start the engine. He closed his eyes, following the guidance of the scar on his chest, sensing the location of the third star. Not in the north of the city, not in the south, not in the east, not in the west. In the city center. At the Criminal Investigation Division. At his daily workplace.

He opened his eyes, started the engine, and drove towards the city police station.

The municipal police station building resembled a giant gray tombstone in the night. The lights in the duty room were still on, but two fluorescent tubes in the lobby on the first floor were broken, causing the light to flicker. Lin Shen parked his car in the back parking lot, entered through the back door, and climbed the stairs to the third floor. The third floor was the archives room; it was occupied during the day, but at night only the night shift security guards would occasionally patrol it.

He stood in front of cabinet number 317. Not the cabinet number 317 on the basement level—it was cabinet number 317 in the archives room on the third floor. A number he had never noticed before, hidden in the innermost corner, the cabinet door covered with a thick layer of dust.

The third mirror is here.

Lin Shen squatted down and opened the cabinet door. There was nothing inside except a white envelope, unsigned and unaddressed. He opened the envelope; inside was a key. It was bronze, with the label reading "317." It was exactly the same as the one in his pocket, but different—this key was new, without rust, and the writing on the label was printed, not handwritten.

He turned the key over to look at the back. Engraved on the back was a line of small, laser-etched characters: "Northern City Mental Health Center, Basement Level, B1."

Chen Yuan's room.

Lin Shen put the keys in his pocket and stood up. He walked out of the archives, down the stairs, and out of the municipal bureau building. The car was still parked in the parking lot, but he didn't drive it. He hailed a taxi and gave them the address.

The driver, a man in his fifties, glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "A policeman?"

"Um."

"Going to a mental hospital at this hour? Are you handling a case?"

"I guess so."

The driver didn't ask any more questions. He turned on the radio; the midnight station was playing an old song, the sound low, as if drifting from a great distance. Lin Shen leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The scar on his chest throbbed, and the position of the third star shifted—not him, but the star itself. It was somewhere in the mental health center, waiting for him.

The car stopped in front of the mental health center. Lin Shen paid and got out. The main gate was closed, but the side iron gate was ajar, just like the first time he came. He squeezed in sideways. The courtyard was quiet, and the glass doors of the main building were closed, making it pitch black inside. He didn't go through the main entrance but went around to the side of the building and found the window with the light on.

A young man sat in the duty room; it wasn't Old Wu. Old Wu was dead. This young man was wearing a security guard uniform, his hat askew, and he was playing on his phone. Lin Shen knocked on the window.

The young man looked up, saw the dark figure outside the window, and jumped in surprise. "Who's there?"

Lin Shen took out his police ID and stuck it to the glass. "Police. Open the door."

The young man hesitated for two seconds, then stood up and opened the side door. Lin Shen went inside and put away his police badge. "How do I get to the basement?"

"Go down those stairs," the young man pointed to the end of the corridor, "but the basement level is locked, and I don't have the key."

"I have."

Lin Shen walked to the end of the corridor. One of the lights at the stairwell was broken, leaving only one flickering on, emitting a buzzing electrical sound. He went down the stairs; the basement corridor was even darker than the upper floors, and the water stains on the walls looked like distorted faces in the dim light.

B1 was at the far end of the corridor. The door was iron, without a handle, only an electronic screen embedded in the wall. It was exactly the same as the door to room B7. Lin Shen took out his new key and swiped it on the screen. The screen lit up; it wasn't a fingerprint scanner, but a numeric keypad. He entered 317. The door opened.

Room B1 is half the size of B7. It's about ten square meters, with a bed, a table, and a chair. The bed is covered with a neatly folded white sheet. On the table is a small mirror—about the size of a palm, with a stainless steel frame. The mirror is placed face down on the table.

Lin Shen walked over, picked up the mirror, and turned it over.

His face was reflected in the mirror. But behind him stood a person. Not the mirror keeper, not Su Wan, not anyone he knew. It was a man, in his forties, wearing a white lab coat and gold-rimmed glasses, his hair neatly combed. His face was thin, with prominent cheekbones and deep-set eyes, but his eyes were bright—not the kind of bright that flashes on a screen, but a kind of crazy, obsessive, flame-like brightness.

"Who are you?" Lin Shen asked.

The person in the mirror smiled. That smile reminded him of Chen Yuan—not in appearance, but in temperament. That sense of superiority of "I know things you don't."

"I am the 'Gardener'," the person in the mirror said. "You think the 'Gardener' is an organization, but actually the 'Gardener' is a person. Me. Three years ago, I planted seeds of a revolving lantern in every parallel world. Lu Ming was the first, Shen Ruo was the second, Chen Yuan was the third, and you are the seventh. I planted seven and harvested three. The remaining four are still growing."

Lin Shen gripped his glasses tightly. "You're the leader of the 'Reapers'?"

"The 'Harvester' is my scythe." The person in the mirror pushed up their glasses. "The 'Gardener' plants, the 'Harvester' reaps. I planted seven seeds, and the 'Harvester' harvested three for me—Lu Ming, Shen Ruo, and Chen Yuan. Their abilities were stripped away and sealed in the mirror, becoming part of my collection. You are the fourth. I originally planned to wait a little longer, let you grow a bit more, before harvesting. But you're too fast. You've already found two mirrors and released two fragments of memories. I can't wait any longer."

Lin Shen stared into the eyes of the person in the mirror. "Where are you?"

"I am everywhere." The person in the mirror laughed. "I am in every mirror. I am the master of the mirrors. Every mirror guardian you see is someone I created. Their memories are implanted by me, their abilities are given by me. They are not Lu Ming's memories, nor Su Wan's memories—they are my puppets."

Lin Shen's fingers tightened on the frame of his glasses. "Where are Lu Ming's memories?"

"In those two mirrors you found," the person in the mirror said, "the guardian in the first mirror was indeed Lu Ming's memory. I lied to you. She wasn't a puppet implanted with false memories; she was Lu Ming's memory itself. I simply told her she was the guardian. She believed me. You awakened her, you released her. That was your luck. But the next mirror won't be so easy for you to obtain."

He pressed his hand against the mirror, through the glass, touching Lin Shen's palm. His fingers were cold, like ice, like death.

"The third mirror is in your hands," the person in the mirror said. "But the guardian of this mirror is not Lu Ming's memory. It is me. I will personally guard this mirror. If you want to obtain the memory fragments within the mirror, you must defeat me."

How can I defeat you?

The person in the mirror did not answer. His body emerged from the mirror—just like the mirror keeper Lin Shen had seen in the warehouse, rising from the depths of the mirror's surface, like someone rising from underwater. He stood before Lin Shen, wearing a white lab coat and gold-rimmed glasses, his hair meticulously styled. Exactly the same as in the mirror, but different—his eyes were red, with a black rose swirling within his pupils.

"The way to defeat me is simple." The person in the mirror stretched out his right hand, and a knife appeared in his palm—a black knife that did not reflect any light. "Kill me."

Lin Shen took a step back. "If I kill you, will 'The Gardener' die?"

"Kill me, and the 'Gardener' will be someone else." The person in the mirror laughed. "'Gardener' isn't a person, it's a position. Whoever sits in that position is the 'Gardener.' I've been in that position for three years. If you kill me, you'll be the next 'Gardener.' You'll have my abilities—creating revolving seeds, monitoring the consciousness of all those with abilities, and traveling through all the mirrors. You can use these abilities to do whatever you want. Protect those you want to protect, kill those you want to kill."

Lin Shen's hand rested on the gun handle. The gun was empty; he'd forgotten to load it. "You're tempting me."

"I'm giving you a choice." The person in the mirror sheathed their knife. "You can take the third mirror and release the fragments of memory within. But that mirror doesn't contain Lu Ming's memories. Those are my memories. If you release me, I will emerge from the mirror and return to the real world. Your world."

"You can't get out."

"Help me get out." The person in the mirror pointed to the mirror in Lin Shen's hand. "Break it. The shards will fall to the ground, and each shard contains a part of 'me.' If you piece the shards together, 'I' will be whole again. Then I will be free."

Lin Shen looked down at the mirror in his hand. His face was reflected in the mirror, but in his pupils, besides the two stars, there was something else—a very small, almost invisible black rose. It slowly rotated in the deepest part of his pupils.

"You've already planted it." Lin Shen looked up. "You've planted your seed in my eyes."

The person in the mirror smiled. This smile wasn't mocking, nor was it triumphant; it was a smile of relief and a sense of liberation. "You finally see it. The seventh seed isn't yourself. It's me in your eyes. From the moment you first entered the revolving lantern, you carried me with you. I lived inside you for seven days, watching you fight, watching you run, watching you accept your shadow. You are a wonderful vessel. Better than Lu Ming, better than Shen Ruo, better than Chen Yuan. You are the most perfect seed I've ever planted."

Lin Shen gripped the mirror tightly, his fingers trembling. Not fear, but anger. A cold, scalpel-like anger.

"So it's time for you to reap the rewards."

"I'm going to harvest," the person in the mirror nodded. "But not now. You still have a chance. The third mirror is in your hands. You can choose to shatter it and release me. Or you can choose not to shatter it and lock me in this mirror. But you can't keep me locked up for long. The seed in your eye has already sprouted. It will slowly grow, spreading from your eye to your brain, and from your brain to your heart. When it blossoms, you won't need to shatter the mirror anymore—you yourself will be the mirror. I will come out of your body."

Lin Shen flipped the mirror over, face down, and placed it face down on the table.

"I won't break it."

The person in the mirror watched his movements, their smile unchanged. "You'll change your mind. When you find the fourth, fifth, and sixth mirrors, you'll discover that you can't open them without my help. Each mirror requires a key. The key to the first two mirrors is 'awakening,' the key to the third mirror is 'killing,' and the key to the fourth mirror is—"

He paused, deliberately drawing out the sound.

"It's the tears of the person you love most."

Lin Shen's fingers stopped.

"The person you love most isn't Su Wan, isn't Xiao Chen, isn't anyone you know." The person in the mirror lowered their head, looking into Lin Shen's eyes. "The person you love most is yourself. You've never loved anyone because you've never loved yourself. You protect others because you feel it's your responsibility. You help others because you feel it's your obligation. You've never done anything because 'I wanted to.'"

The person in the mirror reached out and touched Lin Shen's chest, specifically the spot with the circular scar.

"The key to the fourth mirror is your own tears. You must cry for yourself once. When your tears fall onto the mirror, the mirror will open."

Lin Shen opened his hand. The sound of fingers clattering together was unusually loud in the quiet room.

"I won't cry for you," Lin Shen said.

The person in the mirror smiled. It wasn't a mocking smile, nor a triumphant one, but a sorrowful, helpless one. "You're not crying for me. You're crying for yourself. You've lived twenty-nine years and never cried for yourself. You didn't cry when your parents abandoned you, you didn't cry when you were bullied in the orphanage, you didn't cry when you got into police academy, you didn't cry when you killed someone for the first time. You swallowed all your tears, and they became the shadow within you. You accepted it, but you haven't released it. It's still inside you because it's still waiting—waiting for you to cry for it just once."

The person in the mirror began to become transparent. This process started from the feet and spread upwards, just like the previous mirror guardian.

"I'm going back. The third mirror is for you. I can't get out unless you break it. But remember—the seed in your eye is growing. The longer you delay, the bigger it grows. When you close your eyes, you won't see darkness anymore, but me."

He vanished. His white coat, gold-rimmed glasses, and meticulously styled hair—all disappeared, as if he had never existed.

Lin Shen stood in the center of room B1, holding the folded mirror in his hand. He turned the mirror over to look at himself—his face was reflected in the mirror. In his pupils, the black rose had grown larger. From the size of a pinhead to the size of a sesame seed, it slowly spun on his black iris.

He put the mirror in his pocket, walked out of B1, out of the mental health center, and stood at the main entrance. Dawn was breaking; the eastern horizon was beginning to lighten, just like when the original world collapsed. He took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Chen Yuan".

"Um."

"The guardian of the third mirror is 'The Gardener' himself. He says he can't get out unless the mirror is broken. But I have his seed in my eye. He planted something inside me."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"I know," Chen Yuan said in a low voice. "I have it too. Every seed contains the 'Gardener's' seed. Lu Ming has it, Shen Ruo has it, I have it, and you have it too. This is how the 'Gardener' controls us. He sees us, hears us, and manipulates us through the seeds."

"How do I remove it?"

"You can't get rid of it. Once the seed is planted, it merges with your consciousness. You can't kill it, just like you can't kill your own shadow."

Lin Shen closed his eyes. Darkness. But what he saw was not darkness—a tiny, sesame-seed-sized black rose, slowly swirling in the darkness.

"Then let it grow," Lin Shen said. "When it blooms, I'll kill it along with the flowers."

He hung up the phone and walked to the street. There were no more taxis, so he walked home. One by one, the streetlights went out, and the sky gradually brightened. He walked on the empty sidewalk, his shadow stretched long and thin in the morning light.

In my pocket, three mirrors. Three stars. Three memories.

There are also four mirrors, four stars, and four memories.

He looked up at the eastern sky. The sun hadn't risen yet, but its light had already dyed the edges of the clouds red, like a huge, burning mirror.

His face was reflected in the mirror.

The black rose in her pupils had grown even larger.