Chapter 27: The Ship of Theseus

Chapter 27: Substitute Survival

“We should have stopped her.”

After Hong Xiangcai disappeared into the black mist, Hu Bi muttered absentmindedly.

Zheng Nanfang patted his shoulder and tried to comfort him. “Don’t worry. As long as we stay alive, it won’t be long before another Hong Xiangcai appears.”

Hu Bi’s gaze was vacant, as though he was questioning Zheng Nanfang or perhaps himself. “But will that still be the Hong Xiangcai I know?”

Counting the one who set out with them from the Dead City, they had now seen three versions of Hong Xiangcai in succession.

Barring any surprises, each Hong Xiangcai should have come here for the same reasons and experienced the same things along the way. In other words, aside from the timeline, everything else was identical.

The mummified Hong Xiangcai and the one who had just entered the black mist were absolutely indistinguishable, inside and out, from the Hong Xiangcai who left the Dead City first.

The only difference was that the mummified Hong Xiangcai had apparently arrived earlier than Zheng Nanfang’s group. She had already endured the terror of the black mist and witnessed things Zheng Nanfang and the others had yet to encounter.

A wild idea suddenly occurred to Zheng Nanfang.

“Old Hu, what if I told you I have a way to save Hong Xiangcai…” Zheng Nanfang cut himself off, glancing at Tang Suan and Shu Yangcong before continuing, “A way to save both Hong Xiangcai and Li Qingjiao. What would you say?”

Hu Bi, Tang Suan, and Shu Yangcong exchanged glances, each vaguely guessing what he might mean.

“To be honest, my head is spinning,” Hu Bi admitted. “Your theory about the time loops has already killed off half my brain cells. If you’ve got something else up your sleeve, just say it. Don’t make me guess.”

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, the ember flaring in the darkness before fading.

Tang Suan, the quickest of them, had already followed Zheng Nanfang’s logic.

Zheng Nanfang smiled, watching their faces. “We could go back to Raw Meat Town and stop the whole operation before anyone sets out.”

“You mean… stop ourselves?” Hu Bi was stunned. “Wouldn’t that mean there’d be two of each of us?”

Tang Suan’s face grew pale. In a low voice, he said, “No, the boss means we could replace ourselves.”

Shu Yangcong and Sha Man felt a chill down their spines, their uncertain gazes fixed on Zheng Nanfang.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Zheng Nanfang shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s not like I’m insisting we do it.” He sighed. “What I can’t figure out is, we’re obviously not the first team here. So where did the previous versions of us go?”

No one answered; they racked their brains to piece together the scenario Zheng Nanfang was describing.

“If we use our group as the timeline,” he continued, “let’s say the mummified Hong Xiangcai and the Laili I saw in the sandstorm were the previous batch, and the Hong Xiangcai just now was from the group after us.”

“If all goes as expected, in another hour the next batch will arrive here too.”

“But where did the group before us go?”

“Dead? Still in the black mist?”

“And why did Hong Xiangcai become that way in the mist, while Laili appeared in the sandstorm?”

Zheng Nanfang explained as many questions as he answered, making the others swing between clarity and confusion, unable to grasp his full intent.

Tang Suan, who had been silent, cleared his throat and frowned. “There’s another detail.”

“Oh? Go on.”

Tang Suan hesitated, biting his lip. “Last night, when we questioned Sister Hong in the tent… you and the boss checked her injuries, right?”

“Yes. What about it?” Hu Bi remembered the wounds vividly—they were horrific. Not just for Hong Xiangcai’s frail body; even on himself, such injuries would have been crippling.

Tang Suan glanced at Zheng Nanfang. “Boss, do you remember the first night we arrived in Raw Meat Town? We encountered someone just like her.”

Of course Zheng Nanfang remembered. The moment he’d seen Hong Xiangcai’s bandages, the memory resurfaced, though he’d kept quiet.

Tang Suan continued, “The three of us were too far away to see the details. Boss, did you notice anything?”

“The wounds were similar,” Zheng Nanfang nodded, recalling the last person he’d killed.

“So, if we connect everything that’s happened at the fishery and recall that night…” Tang Suan swallowed, struggling with the idea. “Is it possible that those three people were members of the previous group—maybe even three of us—who approached us only to warn or stop us?”

Hu Bi’s eyes widened in shock. “You saw them the first night? What did they say?”

Zheng Nanfang shook his head ruefully. “Nothing. It was a tense situation. I thought they were provoking us, so…”

“So what?” Hu Bi pressed.

Tang Suan mimed a throat-slitting gesture.

Shu Yangcong shivered, remembering Zheng Nanfang’s ruthlessness that day and the possibility that he’d killed one of their own from another iteration.

“If that’s the case, our chances aren’t good,” Sha Man remarked. She hadn’t been there the first night in Raw Meat Town, but piecing together everyone’s accounts, the picture was becoming clear.

Tang Suan nodded, a sense of foreboding settling over the group.

“Sister Hong faced danger in the black mist; Laili saved the boss in the sandstorm, which helped us get to the fishery; those three in Raw Meat Town tried to warn or stop us.”

Tang Suan took out paper and pen, listing their findings. “Counting carefully, the previous batch only had five left. In our current group, Hong Xiangcai and Laili disappeared into the mist. That just leaves us.”

“So… only three of us will make it back to Raw Meat Town alive?” Shu Yangcong shuddered, glancing at the gunmen behind them, oblivious to the danger.

For a moment, the atmosphere was unbearably heavy. The unknown could be faced, but if fate was set, accepting it was much harder.

“Not necessarily,” Zheng Nanfang said, shaking his head. “So far, the only constant in this cycle is our group. Everything else isn’t predetermined.”

“So, we’re free to act?” Hu Bi finally caught up. He licked his lips. “You’re right, we’re in control. No need to follow the last group’s footsteps exactly.”

“Exactly. There are plenty of things we can do.” Zheng Nanfang drew a circle on the ground and marked several points. “Forget the previous groups. Starting with us… we can bring in the group behind us, eliminate them all, then return to Raw Meat Town. When we regroup, finish off our previous selves and take their place. Substitute to survive.”

“That won’t be easy,” Hu Bi objected. “One or two, maybe. But how are we supposed to replace so many of us without anyone noticing?”

He broke off then snorted with laughter, pointing at Zheng Nanfang. “Never happen. Let’s be honest—could you even beat yourself in a fight?”

Zheng Nanfang was speechless.

Hu Bi’s shoulders shook with laughter as he exhaled smoke. “With your weird temperament, so unpredictable—friends with this one, then that one. Forget replacement; I bet you’d get yourself killed.”

Zheng Nanfang had no retort. After considering all possibilities, he could only concede, “Then there’s nothing for it. Maybe we should all just kill ourselves and leave the chance to the next batch.”

“Wait!” Suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed in Tang Suan’s mind. “Why don’t we leave some warnings?”

“What?” everyone asked in unison.

Tang Suan waved the paper and pen. “If this cycle isn’t fixed, why does it have to be kill or be killed? We could leave messages around or inside the fishery to warn ourselves—not to enter the black mist, not to go too deep!”

“If you saw a warning like that when you arrived, would you believe it?” Zheng Nanfang countered.

Tang Suan hesitated, then replied, “We could leave clues only we would understand. Even if we doubted, it’d at least serve as a warning.”

“What’s the point?” Hu Bi grunted, unimpressed. He pointed toward the fishery’s crevice. “We could just blow up the entrance.”

“Or go back even further,” Shu Yangcong, caught up in the possibilities, suggested. “If we block the road before the Dead City, Qingjiao wouldn’t die, either.”

While their discussion grew heated, the gunmen were dozing off, oblivious as the sky darkened. Beyond the fishery, vehicles could finally be heard approaching.

The next group had arrived, but Zheng Nanfang and his companions still hadn’t reached a conclusion.

“What now?” Tang Suan looked at Zheng Nanfang.

“We hide and observe. If they act the same way we did yesterday, we take them out from behind. If two Zheng Nanfangs are identical, one is enough.”

“And if they act differently?” Hu Bi asked.

“We’ll decide then.”

Voices echoed from the crevice. Zheng Nanfang gave a sharp whistle, and the team ducked into hiding, each concealed in a nook or cranny.

Zheng Nanfang and Sha Man squeezed into a hollow behind some boulders, separated from yesterday’s path by a pile of rocks.

As they waited in silence, Sha Man nudged Zheng Nanfang.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

Sha Man bit her lip and whispered, “I don’t understand why you all keep talking about replacing yourselves.”

“What do you mean?” Zheng Nanfang was at a loss, wondering if he’d missed something.

Sha Man’s expression was odd. She muttered, “We’re alive, the Lower City is still the Lower City. Why don’t we just leave? Why bother fighting ourselves?”