Revolving lantern, back to zero

Lin Shen left the warehouse but didn't go home. He drove aimlessly through the city streets. Sunlight streamed in through the windshield, illuminating his hands, the steering wheel, and the four mirrors stacked on top of each other on the passenger seat. The mirrors reflected the light, casting dappled, star-like spots of light into the car.

He didn't know where he was going. But he knew he didn't want to go home. At home, Su Wan was piecing together mirrors, Chen Yuan was reading the *Tao Te Ching*, and Su Wan was sleeping on the sofa. It was too quiet. Too normal. He didn't belong in a normal place.

He parked his car by the river.

The river was gray, reflecting the gray sky. A wind blew across the river, carrying the fishy smell of water and the diesel fumes of distant ships. Lin Shen got out of the car, walked to the railing by the river, leaned on it, and looked down at the water. His face was reflected in the water—not clearly like in a mirror, but blurry, distorted by the ripples, like an oil painting soaked in water.

But the black rose in his pupils was clearly visible, even in its blurred reflection on the water. Black petals extended from his pupils, slowly swirling on the surface, like a tiny black hole absorbing all the surrounding light.

"What are you looking at?" a voice came from behind.

Lin Shen didn't turn around. He recognized the voice—it was his own. But not his current voice; it was the voice of himself when he first died. A young, terrified voice, unable to believe he was going to die.

"It's up to you," Lin Shen said.

The person behind him walked up to him, put their hands on the railing, and stood side by side with him. The gray water reflected two faces—one was the current Lin Shen, tired, alert, with black roses in his eyes; the other was the young Lin Shen, clean, nervous, with a transparent wound on his neck.

"You've got four mirrors," the young Lin Shen said. "There are three more to go."

"I know."

Do you know where the fifth mirror is?

Lin Shen was silent for a few seconds. "I don't know. The 'Gardener' said the key to the fourth mirror was 'to cry for yourself once.' I got the fourth mirror, but I didn't cry. I don't know if I got the key."

Young Lin Shen turned to look at him. "When you got the mirror, you didn't cry, but your eyes were red. Does that count?"

Lin Shen shook his head. "It doesn't count. Tears have to be shed for it to count."

"Then why don't you bleed?"

Lin Shen didn't answer. He stared at his reflection on the river, where the black rose spun. With each rotation, a petal detached from the flower's center, falling onto the water and creating a small ripple. The ripples spread, shattering his face, shattering the young Lin Shen's face, shattering the gray sky.

"Because I'm afraid," Lin Shen finally said.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that once I start bleeding, I won't be able to stop."

The young Lin Shen remained silent for a long time. The river wind tousled their hair and shattered their reflections on the water. A cargo ship passed by in the distance, its horn sounding deep and mournful, like the sigh of a giant beast.

"Do you know what I was thinking when I died for the first time?" the young Lin Shen asked.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking, I've never lived for myself. I've lived for 29 years, and I've always lived for others. I've fought for the children in the orphanage, risked my life for the honor of the police academy, and stayed up all night for justice for the victims. I've never asked myself what I want."

Lin Shen's hand tightened on the railing. "You know now?"

"I understand." The young Lin Shen smiled. "I want to cry once. Not for others, but for myself. For the years I've lost, for the wounds I've suffered, for the people I've killed."

His voice was soft, as soft as the wind. But every word he spoke felt like a needle piercing Lin Shen's heart.

"You do it for me," young Lin Shen said. "I can't cry anymore. I'm already dead. But you're still alive. Cry for me just once. Just once."

Lin Shen closed his eyes. Darkness. In the darkness, the black rose had fully bloomed, its petals filling his entire field of vision. The heart of the flower was black, bottomless. But he heard a sound—not from outside, but from within. From the heart of the flower. It was the cry of a baby. Very faint, very weak, like a kitten meowing.

That was himself. The self abandoned at the gate of the orphanage. He had never heard that voice before. Because he was too young then, he didn't remember. But that cry remained within him, in the deepest part of his consciousness, in the heart of that black rose. Waiting twenty-nine years, waiting for him to return and hear it.

Lin Shen opened his eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes, silently, without warning, just flowing. Warm, salty tears, like river water. One drop, two drops, three drops. They dripped onto the railing, onto his hands, onto the gray water.

The black rose on the water's surface was struck by tears. Its petals trembled violently, then began to change color—from black to gray, from gray to white, from white to transparent. One by one, the transparent petals fell onto the water's surface and disappeared.

The black rose in the pupil changed too. Its petals turned from black to white, from white to transparent, from transparent to—light. Golden, warm light, like sunlight. The light shone from the pupil, illuminating the river, illuminating the sky, illuminating the whole world.

Young Lin Shen watched this scene and smiled. His smile was warm and sincere, like sunshine. Then his body began to become transparent, spreading upwards from his feet. He felt no fear, no sorrow, only a smile.

"Thank you for crying for me," he said. "Now you can move on."

He disappeared.

Lin Shen stood by the river, tears still streaming down his face. He didn't wipe them away. He let the tears dry on his face, letting the salt remain on his skin, like a mark, like a memento.

The four mirrors in his pocket vibrated simultaneously. He took them out and placed them side by side in his palm. His face was reflected in the mirrors, but it was different—the black rose in his pupils had completely disappeared, replaced by four stars. Silver-white, diamond-like stars were evenly distributed on his brown irises.

The fifth star appeared in the fourth mirror. It didn't grow from the heart of the black rose, but rose from the depths of the mirror, like a pearl rising from the bottom of the water.

Four mirrors, five stars.

No. There should be four stars in four mirrors. But the appearance of the fifth star means the fifth mirror has been found—it's not somewhere else, it's in his hands. Deep within the surface of the fourth mirror, the fifth mirror has always been hidden. His tears activated it.

Lin Shen stacked the four mirrors together and looked at them in the sunlight. The sunlight passed through the mirrors and projected a complex pattern onto the wall—four overlapping rings with a five-pointed star in the center. The fifth mirror was the intersection of the first four mirrors. It wasn't anywhere else; it was at the point where the first four mirrors overlapped.

Lin Shen put the mirror in his pocket and turned to walk towards his car. As he opened the car door, his phone vibrated. It was a message from Chen Yuan: "Come back. The location of the fifth mirror has been found."

Lin Shen got into the car, started the engine, and drove towards home.

When I got home, there was another person in the living room.

Shen Ruo.

She sat on the sofa, dressed casually—not in a hospital gown, but in a dark blue sweater and black trousers. Her hair was loose, and her face was still pale, but much better than in the hospital. She wasn't holding a book; instead, she was holding a mirror. It was small, about the size of a fingernail, with a stainless steel frame.

"You've been discharged from the hospital?" Lin Shen closed the door.

"I snuck out," Shen Ruo said. "I slipped out during the nurses' shift change. Chen Yuan opened the door for me."

Chen Yuan stood by the window, holding the *Tao Te Ching* in his hand. He turned to a certain page and stopped. "The fifth mirror is within you, Lin Shen. Not in your eyes, not in your chest, but in the deepest part of your consciousness. The tears you shed opened that door. Now you can enter."

"What are you going in for?"

"Find the fifth mirror and release the memories within." Shen Ruo stood up and walked to Lin Shen. "The guardian of the fifth mirror is none other than me. Not the current me, but the twenty-year-old me. The me in Lu Ming's memories."

Lin Shen looked into her eyes. Brown, normal, without black roses, without stars. "Will you let me in?"

Shen Ruo nodded. "I'm willing. Because what's sealed in that mirror is the happiest memory between Lu Ming and me. I want him to remember it. Not for him, but for myself. I want him to remember that we were once very happy."

Lin Shen closed his eyes. He didn't need Chen Yuan to open the door for him anymore. He could do it himself. He followed his heartbeat, collapsing inward, folding once, twice, three times, seven times. Darkness. Then light. A door. A white, wooden door with an infinity symbol carved on its panel.

He pushed open the door.

Behind the door wasn't a white room, not a heart, not any place he'd ever seen before. It was a classroom. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, falling on the desks, on the blackboard, and on a girl's hair. Long, black hair, tied in a ponytail, the ends brown in the sunlight.

Shen Ruo. Shen Ruo at the age of twenty.

She sat at her desk, holding a book with a deep blue cover, like the night sky. She was reading, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, not a smile, but a small expression, as if she were hiding some secret.

On the other side of the classroom sat a boy. Lu Ming. Twenty-year-old Lu Ming, clean-cut, young, with gentle eyes. He wasn't reading; he was looking at her. There was a light in his eyes—not the fleeting blue light of a magic lantern, but a warm, living, hopeful light.

Lin Shen stood at the classroom door, not going in. He knew this wasn't the real classroom; this was Shen Ruo's memory space, the interior of the fifth mirror. The guardian of the mirror was none other than twenty-year-old Shen Ruo herself. She didn't need to be awakened; she had always been awake. She was waiting for someone.

"You're here." Shen Ruo put down her book, turned around, and looked at Lin Shen. Her eyes were black—not an empty black, but the normal, human black. "You've come to get a mirror."

"Yes."

"Do you know the price you pay for taking the mirror?"

"What price?"

Shen Ruo stood up and walked up to him. She was a head shorter than him and looked up at him. "The fifth mirror seals away my happiest memories. If you take it away, I will forget those memories. Not forever, but temporarily. He will return them to me after Lu Ming recovers."

Lin Shen looked at her. "You're willing?"

"I do." She smiled. That smile was warm and sincere, like sunshine. "Because I've waited for him for three years. Waiting a little longer doesn't matter."

She pulled a mirror from her pocket—a very small mirror, about the size of a fingernail, with a stainless steel frame. The mirror reflected the classroom, the sunlight, the blue book covers, and twenty-year-old Lu Ming. He was still looking at her, his eyes sparkling.

"Here you go." Shen Ruo placed the mirror in Lin Shen's palm. "The fifth mirror."

Lin Shen gripped the mirror tightly. The mirror surface was warm, like the temperature of skin. He could feel something beating inside the mirror—a heartbeat, at the same frequency as Lu Ming's heartbeat.

"Thank you," Lin Shen said.

Shen Ruo shook her head. "No need to thank me. You're not helping me. You're helping yourself. You've cried, but you're not done crying yet. You still need to cry. Because there's someone inside you waiting for you to cry for them."

"Who?"

"You yourself," Shen Ruo said, "not the you who died the first time, not the young you, but the you now. You cried for your past self, but you haven't cried for your present self. The present you needs tears more than the past you."

Her body began to turn transparent, spreading upwards from her feet. Like all the mirror guardians Lin Shen had seen in the mirror, she didn't disappear. She simply withdrew from the memory space and returned to reality.

Lin Shen opened his eyes.

He stood in his living room, holding the fifth mirror in his palm. Shen Ruo sat on the sofa, holding the mystery novel, her expression calm. But she glanced at him, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly—not a smile, but a very small expression, as if saying, "You did it."

Five mirrors, five stars, five memories.

There are two other sides.

Lin Shen put the fifth mirror into his pocket, walked to the window, and drew back the curtains. The sun was already setting, its golden light reflecting off the glass curtain wall of the building opposite, creating a blinding glare.

"Where is the sixth mirror?" he asked.

Chen Yuan closed the *Tao Te Ching* and walked over from the window. "Within you. Not deep in your consciousness, but in your body. In your heart. Just like the origin, Su Wan."

Lin Shen pressed his hand to his chest. The scar throbbed. "How do we remove it?"

"You can't get it out," Chen Yuan said. "You have to treat Su Wan, the origin point, into your own heart, find that mirror, and release the memories inside. But this time, the guardian of the mirror is none other than yourself. It's the you of now. You have to awaken yourself."

Lin Shen looked down at his chest. Beneath his shirt, the circular scar glowed—golden, warm, like sunlight.

"I'm ready," he said.

He closed his eyes, following his heartbeat, collapsing inward. Folding once, twice, three times, seven times. Darkness. Then light. A door. Not a white door, not a wooden door, but a door of light. A golden, warm door, like sunlight.

He pushed open the door.

Behind the door was his heart. A huge heart, as big as a house, beating slowly in the darkness. Thump, thump, thump. At the same frequency as the scar on his chest.

On the surface of the heart, there is a mirror. Large, like a window. Reflected in the mirror is a person's face—his own face. But not the present face, but the future face. Older, more weary, with deeper dark circles under the eyes. More scars on the face, more wounds on the body.

The future Lin Shen stands in the mirror, looking at himself.

"You've come," said Lin Shen from the future. "I've been waiting for you for a long time."

Lin Shen walked to the mirror and stood face to face with the person reflected in it. "Are you the guardian of the sixth mirror?"

"I am you," said Lin Shen from the future. "Not a mirror image, not a shadow, not a backup of another world. I am your future self. If you continue forward, you will become me."

"What kind of person are you?"

The future Lin Shen smiled. It was a bitter, weary smile, like a lamp about to go out. "I found the seven mirrors, released seven fragments of memory, and Lu Ming recovered. Then the 'Gardener' came. He killed Su Wan, killed Xiao Chen, killed Shen Ruo, killed Chen Yuan. I live because the seed within me blossomed. The 'Gardener' needs my body as a new vessel."

Lin Shen clenched his fists. "Is this the future? A future that's bound to happen?"

"This is a possible future," the future Lin Shen said. "You still have a chance to change it. But first, you need to obtain the sixth mirror. Sealed within the mirror is Lu Ming's most painful memory—a memory he doesn't want to recall."

"What memories?"

The future Lin Shen lowered his head, looking at his hands. His hands bore scars, each representing a death. "The memory of him killing Shen Ruo."

Lin Shen's heart skipped a beat. "Lu Ming killed Shen Ruo?"

"It wasn't intentional," said the future Lin Shen. "Three years ago, 'The Gardener' planted the seed of the Black Rose in Lu Ming's consciousness. When the seed blossomed, Lu Ming lost control. He went into Shen Ruo's hospital room and stabbed her heart with a scalpel. Shen Ruo didn't die—her consciousness jumped into the revolving network at the last second, saving her life. But her body died. She was in a coma for three years, not because of the 'Holy Spirit's' attack, but because of Lu Ming."

Lin Shen's hand rested on the mirror. The glass was cool, but the inside of the mirror was warm. "This memory is sealed in the sixth mirror."

"Yes. Lu Ming didn't want to wake up, so he sealed it deep within his consciousness. The 'Gardener' found this memory, extracted it from Lu Ming's brain, and sealed it in this mirror. The guardian of the mirror is none other than Lu Ming himself. He is in the mirror, reliving the moment he killed Shen Ruo over and over again. He needs to be awakened."

"How do I wake him up?"

The future Lin Shen pressed his hand against the mirror, his palm touching the mirror's through the glass. "Tell him Shen Ruo is alive. She's awake. She's waiting for him."

Lin Shen looked at his future self in the mirror. A tired, scarred face with deep dark circles under his eyes. He suddenly thought of Old Zhou. Old Zhou had the same expression before he died—tired, knowing too much, and powerless.

"Will you die?" Lin Shen asked.

The future Lin Shen smiled. It wasn't a bitter smile, nor a weary one, but a relieved, burden-free one. "I will disappear. When you change the future, this future me will cease to exist. But it's okay. I shouldn't have existed in the first place."

He lowered his hand from the mirror and took a step back.

"Go in," said the future Lin Shen. "He's waiting for you."

Lin Shen reached his hand into the mirror. His fingers pierced through the glass as if passing through a film of water. He walked through the mirror and into the world inside.

A hospital room. Room B7. White walls, a white bed, a white cabinet. Lying on the bed is a person. Shen Ruo, eyes closed, lips purple, a hole in her chest. Blood flows from the hole, staining the white sheets red.

A person stood by the bed. Lu Ming held a scalpel in his hand, blood dripping from the blade. He was trembling, tears streaming down his face and dripping onto Shen Ruo's face.

"I didn't mean to," Lu Ming's voice trembled. "I didn't know. I didn't know the seed had flowered. I didn't know I would—"

He knelt on the ground, buried his head in his hands, and burst into tears. The sobs were suppressed and painful, like those of a wild beast trapped in a cage.

Lin Shen walked over, squatted down, and looked Lu Ming in the eye.

"Lu Ming".

Lu Ming looked up, his eyes red—not just a fleeting, superficial red, but red from crying. "Who are you?"

"The forest is deep. The seventh seed."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to tell you that Shen Ruo is still alive. She's awake. She's waiting for you."

Lu Ming's tears paused for a moment. He looked into Lin Shen's eyes, and Lin Shen's face was reflected in his pupils—not a tired, alert, and battle-ready face, but a calm, warm, and smiling face.

"Is she still alive?" Lu Ming's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of waking something.

"She's alive. She ran away from the hospital and is now sitting on my sofa. She's reading a mystery novel with a blue cover."

Lu Ming's tears flowed again, but this time they were not tears of pain, but tears of relief. He threw the scalpel on the ground; the sound of the blade hitting the ground was crisp, like a small mirror shattering.

"Thank you," Lu Ming said. "Thank you for telling me."

His body began to become transparent, spreading upwards from his feet. Just like all the mirror keepers Lin Shen had seen in the mirror. He felt no fear, no sorrow, only a smile. A warm, sincere smile, like sunshine.

The mirror shattered. Fragments detached from the surface of the heart, falling into the darkness and disappearing. Each fragment reflected the same scene—Ward B7, Shen Ruo's bed, Lu Ming kneeling on the floor, weeping. But the colors of the scene changed, from gray to gold, from gold to vibrant colors. The blood on Shen Ruo's sheets turned into red roses, and Lu Ming's tears became transparent diamonds.

Lin Shen opened his eyes.

He stood in his living room, holding a sixth mirror in his palm. His face was reflected in the mirror. In his pupils, there were now five stars. Silvery-white, diamond-like stars, arranged in an irregular shape on his brown iris—a pentagon, like a flower without petals.

The sixth star appeared deep within the mirror. It didn't rise from the mirror itself, but shone from his pupil. Golden, warm, like sunlight.

Six mirrors, six stars, six memories.

There's another side.

Lin Shen put the sixth mirror into his pocket and turned to look at Chen Yuan.

Where is the seventh mirror?

Chen Yuan walked over from the window and stood in front of him. His eyes were bright—not with a flashing blue light, but with a normal, living, hopeful light.

"The seventh mirror isn't anywhere," Chen Yuan said. "It's at the intersection of all the mirrors. If you stack the first six mirrors together and hold them up to the light, the position of the seventh mirror will appear."

Lin Shen took out six mirrors, stacked them together, and held them up to the sunlight streaming through the window. The sunlight passed through the six mirrors, projecting a complex pattern onto the wall—six overlapping rings with a seven-pointed star in the center. At the center of the seven-pointed star was a coordinate.

It's not a number, it's not an address, it's a name:

Su Wan.

This isn't the Su Wan from the original world, nor the Su Wan from the origin. This is the Su Wan from Lu Ming's memories. She is the guardian of the second mirror. She hasn't been released; she's still inside the mirror. Because what Lin Shen obtained in the second mirror wasn't the complete memory, but only a part. The other part is still in her hands.

Lin Shen put the mirror away and walked up to Su Wan. In the original world, Su Wan had just woken up on the sofa, rubbing her eyes, her hair a mess.

"Su Wan," Lin Shen said.

"Um?"

"The guardian of the second mirror—have you seen her?"

Su Wan paused for a moment. She looked at Lin Shen, her eyes filled with a complex emotion—not fear, not surprise, but a sense of relief that "you finally asked."

"I've seen her," Su Wan said. "She's in my dreams. She comes every night. She told me she's waiting for someone. Waiting for someone who's willing to cry for her."

Lin Shen looked into Su Wan's eyes. Brown, tired, yet warm. He suddenly remembered what "The Gardener" had said: "The key to the fourth mirror is the tears of the person you love most." He thought it was his own tears. But he was wrong. The key to the fourth mirror was his own tears. The key to the seventh mirror was the tears of the person he loved most.

The person he loved most was not himself.

It's Su Wan.

This isn't the Su Wan from the original world, nor the Su Wan from the origin point; it's all the Su Wans. It's the Su Wans he encountered, protected, lost, and found again in countless parallel worlds.

"Su Wan," Lin Shen said, "I need your tears."

Su Wan was stunned for a moment. "What?"

"The key to the seventh mirror is the tears you shed for me."

Su Wan looked at him, her eyes reddening. Not from sadness, but because she finally understood—she had waited three years, not for Lu Ming. She had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for Lin Shen to say these words.

Tears streamed down. One drop, two drops, three drops. They fell into Lin Shen's palm, warm and salty, like seawater.

Lin Shen clenched the tear, walked to the window, stacked six mirrors together, and held them up to the sunlight. He dripped his tear onto the mirror surface.

The mirror cracked. Not shattered into pieces, but a crack appeared. Golden light shone through the crack—not sunlight, but a warmer, softer, more embracing light. The light poured out of the crack, engulfing the entire living room.

Deep within the mirror, a person stands.

Su Wan. Not the Su Wan of the original world, not the Su Wan of the origin. She is the Su Wan from Lu Ming's memories. She is the guardian of the second mirror. Her eyes are black—not an empty black, but the normal, human black of eyes. She is smiling.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for crying for me."

She stepped out of the mirror, into the living room, and walked up to Su Wan. Two Su Wans stood facing each other, one in a dark windbreaker, the other in a white nurse's uniform. They looked into each other's eyes, reached out, and clasped hands.

"You are me," Su Wan from the original world said.

"I am you," said the Mirror Keeper. "I am the part of you who loves Lu Ming. I waited in the mirror for three years. Now, I'm back."

She entered Su Wan's body and disappeared. Like water merging into water, like light merging into light.

Su Wan stood there, eyes closed, tears still streaming down her face. But she smiled. That smile was warm, sincere, like sunshine.

Lin Shen looked down at the six mirrors in his palm. His face was reflected in the mirrors. There were seven stars in his pupils. Silvery-white, diamond-like stars arranged in a complete circle on his brown iris—like a mirror, like a door, like a period.

Seven mirrors, seven stars, seven memories.

Lu Ming is now complete.

Lin Shen put the mirror in his pocket and turned to look out the window. The sun had already set, and a final touch of red remained on the horizon, like a burning mirror.

A person's face is reflected in the mirror.

Lu Ming.

He woke up.