The real young master thought he was hated by everyone - Chapter 110

“He…”

Mrs. Xie turned her face away, her lips trembling for a long time before she spoke desolately, “…he didn’t come to harm.”

Mr. Xie let out a long sigh, gesturing for her to rest. “I’ll explain.”

He recounted the rest of the dream in detail.

Xie Sizhi should have felt reassured—because in the dream, even without them, the dream version of Li Heng managed to live well, earning the affection of many.

But instead, he felt even worse.

The occasionally temperamental and irrational young man in real life bore no resemblance to the pale and gentle figure Mr. Xie described in the dream.

Even though the dream spanned several years, Xie Sizhi thought, “He’s still so young.”

Why did he seem so mature?

He recalled that in the dream, Li Heng hadn’t traveled to many places: from a small remote town to S City, then back to a smaller, more desolate town, and finally to an impoverished village populated mostly by the elderly and left-behind children.

At every turn in his life, adversity seemed to follow. Even when his situation improved, his cautious ascension from rock bottom was painstakingly slow.

He had deliberately confined his life to small, narrow spaces.

He hadn’t experienced the grandeur of canyon winds or the golden glow of a sunset over snowy peaks. He hadn’t watched the sunrise at sea, with gulls flying across the sky and pods of dolphins leaping from shimmering waters.

He hadn’t ridden a horse, walked amidst the fragrance of grass at a bustling marketplace, or lingered by gypsies playing music in a foreign land.

His life’s map remained so largely uncharted, yet parts of it were already irretrievably lost.

And none of it should have been this way.

His family had wished for him to be safe, happy, and healthy, even giving him a gentle name.

And he had indeed become a gentle person, like a finely polished jade, his luster revealed through hardship.

But gentleness born of suffering is not the same as natural gentleness.

His younger brother should not have had to endure such bitterness, falling into the depths of despair and climbing back up again, only to embrace life so courageously.

He should have been bright and proud, like a tall, upright poplar tree, stretching toward the sky from the start, with branches growing freely, offering natural shade and warmth.

Perhaps he found happiness later.

Even assuming he was happy later…

…he could have been so much happier.

“It’s my fault.”

Xie Sizhi slumped in frustration, his remorse palpable, like a defeated beast tucking its tail. “If only I had noticed the card left in Bai Ruan’s room earlier, paid more attention to him before, or not said his cat was ugly, and instead helped him bring the cat back…”

Would things have been different? Could their relationship have been salvaged?

Unlike Mrs. Xie, who couldn’t even begin to accept the situation, Xie Sizhi couldn’t stop blaming himself. He deeply regretted his actions—or lack thereof—toward his brother in the dream.

At one point, he even thought it would have been better if his brother had never been brought back to their family.

Li Heng had his own plans, which, while more circuitous, were still better than having his life disrupted by their well-meaning but misguided interventions, only to be abandoned afterward.

The suffering he later endured was entirely unnecessary.

“I was the one who adopted Bai Ruan,” Mr. Xie interjected calmly. “If anyone’s to blame, I’m the one most at fault.”

It had been his decision at the time, a poorly thought-out attempt to cover up old wounds with new bonds, effectively giving up on his own child from the outset.

If it hadn’t been for Xie Duzhi…

If he hadn’t made his choice back then, how laughable would the Xie family look now?

Xie Duzhi had been silent throughout.

While the others wallowed in guilt and self-recrimination, he was already thinking about the next steps, whether his original plan was still viable, and how to manage the situation.

He wasn’t satisfied with the dream’s conclusion either.

He felt simple pity and compassion for the alternate reality’s Li Heng—just as he had when he first stumbled upon certain sealed-away documents.

But when the person he liked spoke of “another version of himself,” a trace of sadness, melancholy, and subtle emotional distress always emerged.

He empathized with those emotions, and they left an unsettling discomfort in him.

His efforts to prove a connection between parallel worlds and reality, his attempts to influence outcomes, all stemmed from the same desire:

To ensure the person he cared for had no lingering shadows in their heart, no regrets, and lived in the brightest sunshine, free from gloom.

Be it relocating hospital patients, aiding welfare institutions, or even trivial things like attending school or live streaming.

Xie Duzhi wanted that person to live a life without a single thing to regret.

At the time, he hadn’t even considered inserting himself into that person’s life plans.

Later, although he developed such intentions, unexpected incidents caused by Bai Ruan disrupted their university years, nearly leaving scars that couldn’t be erased.

If he couldn’t manage this carefully-prepared matter from months ago, he would feel even more guilty than anyone else in the Xie family who had experienced that dream.

He didn’t mention that Li Heng had dreamt of himself “dying” in a hospital bed. Instead, during a pause in the family’s conversation, he calmly interjected:

“I went to G Province to visit Bai Ruan, who’s currently serving his sentence.”

That was what he told the Xie family.

“You said you were just going on a business trip,” Xie Sizhi blurted out, recalling that he’d even considered tagging along before being rebuffed.

“You’d just get in the way,” Xie Duzhi replied icily, unapologetic about his disdain. “And having you there would be a nuisance.”

Apparently, honesty didn’t always beget honesty.

“…” Xie Sizhi wanted to curse but held back.

Their usual bickering brought a faint smile to Mrs. Xie’s face, easing her tension. “Do you think Bai Ruan might have also…”

Xie Duzhi nodded, subtly reshaping the narrative. “After hearing about Second Brother’s dream, I began to suspect Bai Ruan.”

“His obsession and attention toward Xie Heng were far from normal—certainly not what you’d expect from someone who had only met him once.”

His words brought Mrs. Xie a sense of clarity and unease. “He kidnapped him before. What if he told him about…”

She didn’t doubt the dream’s authenticity, especially after learning that her second son had experienced an almost identical one.

But she couldn’t imagine facing a son who might already know about their neglect and maltreatment, unable to separate herself from the person in the dream.

After all, she was also that child’s mother.

“He doesn’t know.”

Xie Duzhi’s tone was resolute. “During the kidnapping, Bai Ruan’s behavior wasn’t coherent. He was obsessed with calling me an imposter and frantically confessing his love to Xie Heng. He didn’t disclose much information.”

Mrs. Xie’s gaze met his, and for the first time, her heavy heart seemed to ease, even if just slightly.

Xie Sizhi thought his acting could win an award—though, in truth, it was simply that others trusted his usual candor and earnest demeanor.

“Bai Ruan did indeed have a similar dream.”

This confirmed Mrs. Xie’s earlier suspicion.

Xie Duzhi’s meeting with Bai Ruan hadn’t been easy; Bai Ruan had refused visitation, and even when forced to appear, he remained silent, glaring at Xie Duzhi with murderous intent.

It was as if he believed that without him, both the Xie family and the one he had tried so hard to possess would naturally belong to him.

Xie Duzhi didn’t immediately resort to using truth serum. Instead, he recounted the latter parts of Xie Sizhi’s dream.

“No plan is flawless, Bai Ruan,” Xie Duzhi said coolly.

He stood before him, who was strapped to a chair with restraints—standard protocol to prevent violent outbursts.

Even after all his scheming and manipulation, his current life was grim. His prison cellmate, carefully assigned, was a violent individual. Before meeting with Xie Duzhi, he had been beaten over a piece of hidden bread.

Had Xie Duzhi arrived any later, he might have faced a bruised and unrecognizable Bai Ruan.

“You relied too much on the Xie family’s trust to pull off your schemes,” Xie Duzhi concluded. “In the end, you’ll still be expelled from the family and fail to win Xie Heng.”

Bai Ruan screamed for him to shut up, struggling against his bindings.

Xie Duzhi smiled faintly. “Of course, I’m saying all this to provoke you—you could call it gloating by the victor over the defeated.”

Bai Ruan’s gaze was filled with murderous rage, as if trying to strip every inch of flesh from Xie Duzhi’s body.

But Xie Duzhi remained unfazed, as composed as when he first entered the room.

“But there’s still something you don’t know,” he added.

Bai Ruan stilled, then smirked. “Come closer, and I’ll tell you—I’ve already hit rock bottom. Don’t tell me you’re too scared to approach.”

He had already decided: the moment Xie Duzhi got close, he would bite him, tearing off a piece of flesh at the very least.

Only by doing so could he vent the seething hatred inside him.

After all, how could he possibly lose?

Xie Duzhi still looked at him indifferently, without stepping forward. Instead, he called over the guards and asked how much time was left for his visitation.

After getting a precise answer, he used a large dose of truth serum on Bai Ruan — to eliminate any possibility of lies.

Even though the questions he asked him were not particularly significant.

Bai Ruan’s entire body trembled violently, his eyes bloodshot, veins bulging with fury.

Thankfully, despite his intense reactions, they didn’t prevent him from answering Xie Duzhi’s questions.

When the effects of the serum wore off, he was drenched in cold sweat. Xie Duzhi, however, remained as composed as when he arrived — not a strand of hair out of place.

“I despise you, Xie Duzhi,” Bai Ruan rasped, his voice barely a whisper, consumed by a primal hatred that overpowered his thoughts.

“And that just so happens to be what I planned to tell you, Bai Ruan,” Xie Duzhi replied calmly.

He left the small visitation room, pausing at the door to glance back through the sunlight streaming in.

“…By the way, thanks to your provocation the other day, Xie Heng finally realized he likes me.”

“We’re together now.”

With that, he ignored the sudden outburst of rage and howls from inside the room, leaving the prison without looking back.

“Bai Ruan dreamed of everything that happened to him between the ages of five and nineteen.”

He glanced at Xie Sizhi. “Second Brother isn’t great with time, but I’d guess he started dreaming around age fourteen.”

Xie Sizhi’s recounting was chaotic and riddled with personal emotions, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact timeline.

“Thirteen, it was thirteen,” he insisted. “I remember because that was the year I enrolled in an accordion class.”

But he only attended the class for three days and never returned to the private tutor’s house.

“Anyway, when I realized Bai Ruan was living with us, he and I got along okay, though he often pestered me with questions about Xie Heng.”

Xie Sizhi clicked his tongue, hastily adding, “I just couldn’t recall the precise date, that’s all.”

Xie Duzhi had been interrogating him with relentless detail, practically conducting an inquisition.

“Second Brother dreamed of events from ages thirteen to twenty-seven,” Xie Duzhi added.

Xie Duzhi gave him a cursory glance before turning his gaze to their mother. “Mom, what about you?”

Mrs. Xie frowned deeply. “…I dreamed from when Xie Heng went missing at five until he turned twenty-six.”

In the dream, her child was lost at five, found at eighteen, and stayed home for less than a year before being hurt and spending two years — maybe closer to three — in pain before finally recovering.

“Then my hypothesis is likely correct,” Xie Duzhi concluded.

Because Heng’s segment of the dream was even shorter than everyone else’s.

“Let’s assume the world we’re in is A, and the world you dreamed of, where our family adopted Bai Ruan, is B.”

“These two worlds are parallel lines that never intersect.”

He stated his conclusion: “The two exist independently. While I’m speaking here, another Xie Duzhi in the B world could be doing something entirely unrelated, even though we exist simultaneously.”

Xie Sizhi wanted to question why he was explaining middle school-level math, but knowing he’d be told, “Don’t interrupt,” he kept silent and impatiently waited for Xie Duzhi to speed up.

“But A and B aren’t lines?” Mr. Xie mused.

“Correct. A and B are essentially spaces,” Xie Duzhi clarified, taking a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I don’t have a degree in physics, so I can only describe phenomena, not explain the underlying principles.”

He folded the paper diagonally, marking one side with “A” and the other with “B.”

In front of everyone, he folded the “B” side again, letting the corner cross the diagonal line before folding it deeper, exceeding the original boundary by a significant margin.

His demonstration was far from precise, riddled with assumptions. The accurate depiction was the model created by A Nation’s laboratory.

But he only needed his family to grasp the concept quickly to proceed with the next steps.

“Due to factors like magnetic fields, spaces can reflect at different angles or even in various ways.”

The reflection was random, potentially showing the past or the so-called future.

Mrs. Xie was the first to grasp this.

Staring at the paper in Xie Duzhi’s hands, her cautious hope betrayed a flicker of anticipation. “Duzhi, are you saying what we dreamed… might not have happened yet?”

Xie Duzhi nodded. “Theoretically, yes.”

“Then there must be a way,” Mrs. Xie exhaled, relieved. “I recall a highly revered monk in Province G who can foresee the future. I’ll go there tomorrow to seek his guidance.”

“And there’s that temple in Province H… I’ll go light incense there when I return.”

She listed a series of renowned spiritual figures, mixing Buddhist, Taoist, and even foreign mediums.

Holding her husband’s hand tightly, she clung to this last straw of hope. “…I remember the dates vividly.”

“In the dream, we drove Heng out to live independently on March 27th.”

That was less than a month before his nineteenth birthday.

Before the incident, she had been planning his birthday party, wondering what kind of gift would be best.

Though her gifts were often met with indifference, she believed time would resolve everything, that one day he’d understand her and stop being so rebellious.

Looking back, she found it all bitterly ironic.

She couldn’t understand how her dream self could have been so self-righteous.

“I still remember other dates.”

In that dream, she had continued her habit of journaling, recording daily events or simply her thoughts, often revisiting them.

Without this habit, she wouldn’t have remembered so many childhood incidents with such clarity.

At no point had she ever thanked herself for keeping such records.

“…Wait a minute.” Xie Sizhi suddenly called out. “What’s the date today?”

“January 3rd,” Xie Duzhi answered, but before the words had fully left his mouth, a short, sharp wail cut through the air, abruptly ending.

Mr. Xie had quickly slapped Xie Sizhi’s arm.

“Your mother needs quiet,” Xie Duzhi said flatly.

Xie Sizhi didn’t dare respond, holding back his frustration and feeling a pang of helplessness.

He remembered he had drawn a picture halfway, intending to give it as a Christmas gift, but later decided it would be for New Year’s instead.

Now, on January 3rd, his progress was no different from before.

He feared that, by the time of the Spring Festival, he still wouldn’t have finished the drawing.

Mrs. Xie was still lost in her memories.

She took a deep breath. “I remember, in the dream, Heng and Bai Ruan became bitter enemies around the time of the Festival.”

“The vase that Duzhi gave me broke on New Year’s Eve, right before the New Year. During the spring cleaning, Bai Ruan accused him of arguing with him, blaming the vase’s owner wrong, and said ‘broken means peace’ in front of everyone, hoping we wouldn’t blame him.”

It was because of the vase incident that she, in a fit of anger, didn’t bring Bai Ruan to visit the elders for the New Year, though at the time, she had reasoned that it would be for his good, to avoid the displeasure of his father, who was stern and formal.

Mr. Xie  was a very proper, rigid man who could easily lose his temper, and if he took out his anger with the belt, no one in the family could stop him.

The more Mrs. Xie recalled specific dates, the more tightly she clutched her husband’s hand, her eyes lighting up.

“I’ll book a flight now to consult with a master.”

If she could dream of another version of herself, why couldn’t the other version dream of her?

She tried to get out of bed, but for a moment, Mr. Xie didn’t have time to stop her.

“At this time, I don’t harbor the same misunderstanding about Heng, and I didn’t abandon him for the New Year,” she said quietly.

It wasn’t about easing her guilt or regret; it was that her mind was solely fixed on a possibility, a chance to prevent further harm to her child, who was currently suffering and soon to face even greater pain.

She couldn’t bear to see him hurt any longer.

Mr. Xie didn’t know what to say, but eventually, he helped her settle back down, reminding her in a gentle voice that the doctor had advised her to control her emotions and avoid any stress.

But she snapped back at him immediately.

He chuckled bitterly, helpless yet understanding, but he still spoke in a soft tone, apologizing and hoping she’d let him finish.

“Duzhi should have been more prepared than us,” he mused, both relieved and frustrated with his own rationality. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have specifically gone to see Bai Ruan, even carrying around paper marked with A and B.”

Mrs. Xie froze for a moment before finally realizing the truth.

Her heart had been so wrapped up in one possibility that she’d ignored the other clues.

She apologized to Xie Duzhi for neglecting him earlier, completely lost in her own thoughts.

He understood and waved it off, saying it didn’t matter.

“I did make some preparations,” he said, “and I’ve hired many researchers to experiment, trying to find out why these mappings happen and the changes in magnetic fields when they do.”

“…How did you even think of this?” Mrs. Xie asked instinctively.

Xie Duzhi’s actions had always been ahead of everyone, and he had left them far behind in terms of preparation.

“I originally just planned a long-term investment,” he explained, using his excuse from before he had traveled through worlds. “But when Second Brother had his dream and barged into my office in a panic, it confirmed some of my thoughts.”

He calmly shifted some of the responsibility to Xie Sizhi, even exaggerating certain details. “Before Bai Ruan kidnapped Heng, he tried to threaten him.”

“When he realized I was the one he was meeting, he referred to me as an imposter and never once called me by my name. That’s when I became suspicious.”

Xie Duzhi was clear-headed, explaining further: “In the other world, Heng wasn’t doing well at all. I thought I should do something.”

“I knew very well it wasn’t really him, but that didn’t stop me from investing in the research. He might have had such a dream too.”

He had lied to Mrs. Xie, and for now, he didn’t plan on telling Li Heng that she had dreamed about the later developments.

It was too painful. Even though recounting the emotions had dulled much of the experience, if he told him, Li Heng would only sympathize for a moment before moving on. Xie Duzhi still felt the pain.

“I want him to realize, even if he dreams of the other version of himself, that the dream isn’t twisted. Like every story, people will always discover the villain’s true nature, and after a brief struggle, everything will end happily for everyone.”

As long as he knew the ending would change, that was enough.

The simplest and most fundamental logic behind everything was that he loved him, so he would do whatever made him happy, wanting him to be the happiest person in the world.

Mrs. Xie was stunned for a long time, her thoughts scattered.

After a while, she snapped back to reality, an unreadable expression crossing her face. “.Duzhi, don’t just think about Heng. Think about us too, and take better care of yourself.”

For so many years, this was the first time Xie Duzhi had shared such a long passage of personal reflection with her.

Compared to the past, he now truly seemed more like a living person.

However, as an elder, Mrs. Xie, while feeling proud, still couldn’t help but instinctively worry about him.

She felt that Duzhi displayed an entirely altruistic nature, and compared to the love he had learned from his partner, it seemed like he didn’t love himself enough.

“He will consider me,” he replied.

Mrs. Xie was momentarily at a loss for words.

It was Mr. Xie, though, who pursed his lips with a somewhat uncomfortable expression.

When Duzhi answered, there was no hesitation. Ideally, he should feel reassured as well, since it indicated the relationship between the two children was indeed very good.

Yet, that one sentence left a subtle feeling.

“Third son, what do you plan to do next?” Xie Sizhi couldn’t hold back his anxiousness. “Do we need to cooperate in some experiment?”

Forget cooperation; if it didn’t involve life-threatening risks, they could even cut him open and examine his body parts.

“We need Mom’s cooperation.”

Xie Duzhi stood up and took off the smart wristband she was wearing. “There’s a small device inside for monitoring.”

The wristbands were from the routine health checks her and Mr. Xie had done, and Xie Duzhi had naturally brought them home afterward.

“Dad, you and Mom’s wristbands are a pair,” he explained how the wristband worked and how it recorded data.

Mrs. Xie listened attentively. “So, what you’re saying is, we need to send this to a lab in Country A to analyze the data, compare it, find any anomalies, and then use equipment to restore the magnetic field at that time for testing, right?”

That was indeed what she understood, though actual implementation would be more challenging.

Finding the abnormal magnetic field or the wave fluctuations in the quantum domain couldn’t immediately yield conclusions. It would require building models with formulas, reverse-engineering, testing, and then identifying possible frequencies that might affect a parallel world.

However, they had prepared enough in advance.

Although Xie Duzhi wasn’t great with physics, his extraordinary memory helped the researchers find precise directions, greatly improving their efficiency and shortening the research time.

“…Then you handle it, Duzhi. Do you want to bring Dad along?” Mrs. Xie asked, eager to help, wishing she could immediately book a flight to Country A to assist with the experiment. She even regretted not applying for a private flight when it was popular a few years ago, thinking it would be too troublesome to arrange separate routes.

“Dad doesn’t need to go; he hasn’t had any dreams like this.”

Xie Duzhi shook his head.

If the experiment succeeded, it was likely that Mr. Xie would dream about the changed world.

“It’s best to leave tomorrow,” he thought for a moment.

“I know.”

Mrs. Xie nodded. “Don’t tell Xie Heng. Just say I’m going on a trip… no, wait, according to your father’s way of saying it, it’s too easy to give it away. Say his grandmother and them have been giving patchy updates, and I’m going to contact them to check.”

“She didn’t make it for the entrance exam or birthday, so she can’t possibly miss such an important thing like an engagement.”

Xie Sizhi raised his hand, looking serious.

Mrs. Xie gave some final instructions before leaning against Mr. Xie’s shoulder and gradually falling asleep.

Mr. Xie reminded them to rest early while he stayed at the hospital with Mrs. Xie.

He didn’t dare move, afraid that any disruption would affect her sleep quality. He just nodded at his sons without seeing them off.

Xie Duzhi and Xie Sizhi left the hospital together.

Xie Duzhi glanced at the time and remembered that Li Heng had an exam in the morning, and tomorrow he had two exams in the afternoon. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should drive to S University, buy breakfast for him, and wait for him to finish his exam in the car.

For the sake of his GPA and scholarship, he had practically turned the library into his second home recently.

When Xie Duzhi messaged him, it often took a long time to get a reply.

Xie Duzhi felt that Li Heng had lost weight recently, and at night, he wanted to take him to a private restaurant famous for its fish dishes.

He was about to open the car door when Xie Sizhi, several steps behind him, called out.

Xie Sizhi, his emotions mixed, said, “Third brother, you…”

He didn’t interrupt, waiting for him to continue.

After a long while, Xie Sizhi finally said, “Thank you.”

“…Do you really think Mom believes what you said about Xie Heng not knowing?” he finished his thanks and slowly lit a cigarette. “Even I noticed something was off when he came back home.”

How could Mrs. Xie not sense it?

She was so sharp, always able to immediately notice his little secrets, whether it was unfinished homework or teachers being driven away from his extracurricular classes.

…Would she really believe it?

“What are you worried about?” Xie Duzhi asked.

Xie Sizhi didn’t respond, only letting out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know either.”

In the end, he said, “The point right now is not whether she believes me or if she starts doubting after she does. The point is, what can she do for the Xie Heng in the dream to make sure he doesn’t suffer as much later?”

“…Do you think the experiment will succeed?” Xie Sizhi asked him.

“Maybe.”

Xie Duzhi couldn’t give him a 100% certain answer. “If things don’t go as smoothly as expected, by the time the mother in the other world dreams of us here, Xie Heng might already have been kicked out of his house.”

Xie Sizhi became anxious instinctively upon hearing this.

But before he could say anything, Xie Duzhi interrupted his thoughts completely.

“Second brother, you need to understand one thing: disappointment doesn’t come suddenly. It builds up bit by bit.”

Xie Sizhi heard him say this.

From childhood to now, at least in his impression, he had never been called “second brother” in such a way before.

It felt subtle, but at the same time, he also felt strangely flattered.

“You don’t want the Xie Heng from the other world to be kicked out of his house along the original path because you think it’s a pivotal moment in his life,” Xie Duzhi said, taking a step back to avoid his coat smelling like cigarette smoke.

“But the turning point you think is so important isn’t actually as significant as you imagined.”

He took a step back and continued: “The Xie Heng in the dream didn’t initially resent you all when he was kicked out of his home.”

As he said this, his brow furrowed slightly, remembering the expression of his lover when talking about this matter, filled with both pity and sadness.

“He would only develop resentment after accumulating disappointment and realizing, in his struggles, that his life’s path had been completely disrupted by you all. There was no way to return to the simple, peaceful life he had before.”

Xie Sizhi was speechless, suddenly realizing that when he had called him “second brother,” it was probably to make the irony even sharper.

“And, when he didn’t even realize what illness he had, when various complications made him feel like he was dying, there was no one by his side.”

Xie Duzhi said the last sentence, giving him the conclusion: “Even if the mother in the other world dreams of us here, and Xie Heng has already been kicked out of his house, they still have enough time to find him, and there’s still a chance for restoration.”

Not waiting until it was completely too late to fix things.

“…You’re right.”

Xie Sizhi gave a bitter smile. “Nothing could be worse than that outcome.”

“Earlier, I was wrong. I was too impatient and couldn’t help but ask you for too much.” He apologized to him for his loss of composure.

“It’s okay. After all, I was just telling you about the worst-case scenario.”

Xie Duzhi’s expression remained indifferent as he opened the car door. “…You should trust Mom more.”

He didn’t explain further to Xie Sizhi, started the car, and didn’t deny that he had a bit of misplaced anger earlier.

He was more dissatisfied with the outcome in the other world than he had imagined, and he thought he should be grateful, not to him, but to Li Heng, for believing in them after that dream and still holding hope, which made the present moment possible. He hadn’t told them that the core person behind the project was actually André’s mentor. Without this person, the experiment might have stalled at the beginning.

André’s mentor had refused him at first, but with André’s help, he agreed to give others a chance to collaborate.

The reason André agreed to help was because of Li Heng.