Night Wanderer

Whether Xue Xuanqing found Sheng Qingrang or not, the sun still rose as usual that day.

The highest temperature dropped below 30 degrees Celsius. Under the cloudy sky, sunlight flickered intermittently, and a gentle northeast breeze swept through the city—autumn seemed just around the corner.

As soon as the trading day began, calls flooded in for Zong Ying.

At the time, she was still on the highway, indifferent to her vibrating phone, refusing to answer.

She knew these calls were almost all related to her reduction of shares in Xinxi—either questioning why she had suddenly sold or probing her reasons for divesting at such a critical juncture, just as Xinxi’s new drug was about to hit the market.

She didn’t care about the stock’s fluctuations or how much she could cash out. She had even less interest in Xinxi’s operational status.

Xinxi was no longer the Xinxi of its early days. It might have already strayed far from the direction Yan Man had envisioned.

Just as her phone quieted down, the screen lit up again.

The car exited the highway toll gate, and Zong Ying answered the call. Xue Xuanqing’s voice came through the Bluetooth earpiece.

“Zong Ying.”

“Did you get him there safely?”

“Listen to me first.”

Zong Ying immediately noticed the unusual tone in her voice. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Go on.”

Xue Xuanqing quickly gathered her thoughts. “I took him to Pudong Airport, and then he vanished into thin air—literally! I practically turned the entire airport upside down, but there wasn’t a single trace of him. It’s like he evaporated into thin air. It doesn’t make any sense!”

Her voice was drowned out by the noise of the airport terminal. For a moment, Zong Ying’s ears rang, her mind blank.

Zong Ying asked again, “Where exactly did you take him?”

Xue Xuanqing frowned. “Pudong Airport.”

Pudong—

Zong Ying vividly remembered the wartime chronicles she had found at her grandaunt’s house. Just two days earlier, to threaten enemy forces on the right bank of the Huangpu River, the 8th Army Group had been defending Pudong.

Even if it hadn’t fallen, it was undeniably the front line.

Her grandmother noticed Zong Ying’s hands trembling on the wheel, her face tense.

Zong Ying suppressed her voice. “Why did you take him there?”

Xue Xuanqing replied, “He dodged the question and was evasive. I thought something was off, so I wanted to test him. Who knew he’d suddenly disappear? How could he just vanish like that? It was a completely enclosed space—was he performing magic or something?”

Zong Ying was on the verge of snapping. “Xue Xuanqing, I’m not joking. This is a matter of life and death. I might really turn against you over this.”

The words “life and death” stunned Xue Xuanqing, plunging her into deeper confusion.

By the time she realized the situation might truly be out of control, Zong Ying had already hung up, leaving only the rapid beeping tone. Further calls wouldn’t connect.

Zong Ying nearly lost her temper at Xue Xuanqing, but she knew that venting would be pointless—just like self-blame.

Once he returned to the past, all traces of him would vanish. Neither anger nor guilt could bring him back.

Zong Ying’s phone shut off automatically due to low battery, leaving the car undisturbed for a brief moment. Her grandmother cautiously asked, “What happened? Was he not delivered safely?”

Zong Ying tightened her grip on the wheel, turning onto another road as planned, heading back to Apartment 699.

She answered, “There were some complications. The situation isn’t clear yet.”Grandma couldn't help but frown. Zong Ying, not wanting her to worry, added, "But Grandma, I'll do my best to handle it."

After seeing Grandma back to the apartment, Zong Ying headed straight for Pudong Airport. Even though she knew it was impossible to find him there at this hour, she still went through the motions with Xue Xuanqing. Xue Xuanqing finally pointed to the men's restroom and said, "I've checked the surveillance footage outside—he went in but never came out, and there's definitely no one inside." She then concluded, "He really did vanish into thin air."

Xue Xuanqing's expression turned grave as she finished speaking, lifting her gaze to Zong Ying. "Did you... know about this before?"

Zong Ying replied, "Is that important?"

"Of course it is." Xue Xuanqing's mind was filled with disbelief, but she could only accept the reality that a living person had disappeared without a trace. Unexpectedly calm, she analyzed, "This is about where he vanished to—the past, the future, or some other dimension?"

Zong Ying pressed her lips together.

"Then I'm guessing it's the past." Xue Xuanqing recalled Sheng Qingrang's old-fashioned attire and demeanor, as well as the bloodstains on his trousers and the scent of gunpowder on him. She stared at Zong Ying and asked deliberately, "Was it during the war?"

As the words "the war" left her lips, Xue Xuanqing suddenly felt a surge of dread.

She wished it were all baseless speculation, but there were too many clues pointing to it—like the day she picked the lock, only to find the room empty despite being bolted from the inside. Or that morning when Zong Ying lent her the car, which had stopped at the traffic light near the Garden Bridge, only to be discovered later with no one inside.

All of it—vanishing into thin air.

Xue Xuanqing instinctively closed her eyes, clenching her fists to stay composed. She asked Zong Ying calmly, "The day the car stopped at the Garden Bridge, were you in it too?" She was certain Sheng Qingrang couldn't drive, so Zong Ying must have been the one behind the wheel. But why had Zong Ying also disappeared?

Zong Ying could no longer hide the truth and silently confirmed it with a pressed-lip nod.

Xue Xuanqing looked at her, a sudden sense of helplessness rising in her chest. "Then where did you disappear to? Did you go with him?"

How could this be?

Xue Xuanqing had handled major cases and encountered plenty of bizarre incidents, but something this strange—and involving Zong Ying—was nearly pushing her to the brink.

The airport bustled with people, announcements urging passengers to board echoing in the background. The world seemed to be rushing forward at breakneck speed, while Zong Ying was being pulled backward by some inexplicable visitor from the past.

She had once held onto Xue Xuanqing in the most critical moments, but now Xue Xuanqing feared she couldn't hold onto Zong Ying.

Suddenly, a child pushing a suitcase carelessly shrieked, "Ah, my suitcase!" The wheeled luggage rolled straight toward Xue Xuanqing, bumping into her and snapping her out of her daze.

She looked up at Zong Ying, who met her gaze.

"Am I dreaming?" Xue Xuanqing asked, and this dream was absurd beyond reason.

She pinched herself hard—the pain was real, undeniable.

Xue Xuanqing fell silent. After a long pause, Zong Ying said, "It's not a dream. He came from 1937."

This rare moment of honesty from Zong Ying brought Xue Xuanqing no joy. She retorted, "1937? 1937!"

Her guess had been right—it was wartime.

Xue Xuanqing pressed further, "So those days you suddenly disappeared—did you go to 1937 with him?"

Zong Ying didn't evade the question this time. "Yes."Xue Xuanqing nearly jumped up: "That's way too dangerous! Are you insane?!"

Zong Ying was utterly exhausted at this moment, her legs barely able to support the weight of her body.

With a troubled expression, she looked at Xue Xuanqing, her voice hoarse from fatigue: "Dangerous? He faces what you call a dangerous world every single day. And in his time, Pudong was a warzone."

Xue Xuanqing suddenly realized her probing had inadvertently pushed someone into an even more perilous frontline, leaving her momentarily at a loss.

"I'll help you look." She steadied herself with effort, pulling out her phone to take action. Fumbling, she opened a search bar and looked up major events of the Battle of Shanghai. Words like "such-and-such battlefield," "such-and-such army group," "bombings," and "fall of territory" flooded the screen in dense clusters, overwhelming her with no clear direction.

Finally, she cleared the search bar, intending to look up this person's life story. But no matter how hard she tried to recall, she only knew his surname was Sheng—his full name remained a mystery.

Xue Xuanqing lifted her head to ask Zong Ying, but the other woman reached over and took the phone from her hand.

Zong Ying said, "I know what you want to ask, but don’t look him up unless absolutely necessary." After speaking, she lowered her head and opened a map, zooming in with two fingers to pinpoint the location of this restroom at Pudong Airport. After taking a screenshot, she strode quickly toward the service counter.

Xue Xuanqing hurried after her, only to see her showing the phone to the staff member at the counter and asking, "Excuse me, do you know what this location at Pudong Airport was over seventy years ago?"

The staff member squinted at the screen, then gave Zong Ying a suspicious look, utterly baffled as to why someone would suddenly ask such a question.

She vaguely recalled some of the airport's construction history but wasn’t entirely sure. So she turned to her colleague beside her and asked, "Wasn’t Pudong Airport built by reclaiming part of the sea?"

Her colleague found the question equally bewildering and turned around to reply, "I think it was about half reclaimed?"

Standing by the counter, Xue Xuanqing gasped in surprise: "This used to be the sea?!"