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A dramatic story Fell upon me                            ( 2012-2024 )           CONTENTS 1. The Rooftop (2012) 2. The Voice from 2024 3. The First Change 4.The Distance Between Us 5. The Storm Breaks 6. The Rescue 7.Gu Ming’s Fall 8.The Writer’s Despair (2024) 9.The Awakening 10.The Meeting                                                    Prologue The year is 2012. The sky is a dull Gray, mirroring the storm inside An Zhen Zhen. A quiet, introspective high school senior, Zhen Zhen stands on the rooftop of her school, her fingers trembling as they grip the cold metal railing. The world below seems distant, muffled, and indifferent. Just as she takes a step forward, her phone rings. An unknown number. She hesitates, then answers. A voice—older, hoarse, familiar yet strange—says, “Zhen Zhen, don’t jump. I’m Jiang Ling… from the year 2024.” Chapter 1: The Rooftop The sky was a dull, overcast gray, the kind that made everything feel heavier than it should. Clouds hung low, thick with the promise of rain, but none came. The wind whispered across the rooftop of High School, tugging at the hem of Zhen Zhen’s school uniform as she stood at the edge, her toes curled over the concrete lip. Below, the world moved on, oblivious. Cars honked in the distance. A group of students laughed near the school gate, their voices faint echoes in the wind. But up here, it was quiet—eerily so. The kind of quiet that made you feel like you didn’t exist. Zhen Zhen’s fingers trembled as she clutched her phone. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from the weight of everything pressing down on her. The pressure of exams, the silence at home, the whispers in the hallway, the loneliness that clung to her like a second skin. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Buzz. Buzz. Her phone vibrated in her hand. She blinked, startled. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Her thumb hovered over the red button, but something—curiosity, fate, or perhaps a final act of defence—made her answer. “Hello?” Her voice was barely a whisper. There was a pause. Then a voice, older and rougher than any she knew, came through. “Zhen Zhen… don’t do it.” She froze. “Who is this?” A sigh. “It’s me. Jiang Ling. But not the one you know. I’m calling you from the year 2024.” She blinked again, stunned. “What kind of sick joke is this?” “I know it sounds crazy,” the voice said. “But I swear, it’s me. I’m Jiang Ling. Just… older. Twelve years older.” Zhen Zhen’s mind reeled. Jiang Ling? The quiet boy who sat two rows behind her in class? The one who never spoke unless called upon? She barely knew him. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you calling me?” “Because you’re about to die,” he said. “And I can’t let that happen. Not again.” Chapter 2: The Voice from 2024 Zhen Zhen stood frozen, the wind tugging at her sleeves, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. The voice on the other end was calm, but there was something raw beneath it—like a wound that had never healed. “You’re lying,” she said, her voice cracking. “This is some kind of prank.” “I wish it were,” the man replied. “But I know things only Jiang Ling would know. Like how you always sit in the third row, second seat from the left. You doodle cherry blossoms in the margins of your notebooks. You hate the sound of chalk on the blackboard. And you always wear your hair in a braid on exam days.” Zhen Zhen’s breath caught. Her hand instinctively touched the braid resting on her shoulder. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “Because I watched you,” he said. “Not in a creepy way. I just… noticed. I never had the courage to talk to you back then. And then you were gone.” She didn’t respond. Her mind was spinning. The rooftop, the call, the strange familiarity in his voice—it all felt like a dream. Or a nightmare. “I’m calling you because I couldn’t save you in my time,” he continued. “You jumped. No one was there to stop you. I’ve lived twelve years with that guilt. But now… I have a chance to change it. To change everything.” Zhen Zhen stepped back from the edge, her legs trembling. She sat down on the cold concrete, her back against the wall, the phone still pressed to her ear. “Why now?” she asked. “Why are you calling me today?” “Because this is the day it all started,” he said. “The day you gave up. I don’t know what pushed you to the edge, but I know this is the moment everything changed. If I can stop you now, maybe… just maybe, we can rewrite the future.” She looked out over the schoolyard. The students were still laughing, still living. And here she was, caught between life and death, past and future. “What do you want me to do?” she asked. “Live,” he said simply. “And listen. I’ll call again. There’s more you need to know. But for now, just… step away from the edge.” She did. Chapter 3: The First Change The next morning, Zhen Zhen woke up with the weight of the previous night still pressing on her chest. The call from “Old Jiang” echoed in her mind like a haunting melody. She had barely slept, her thoughts tangled in confusion and disbelief. Was it real? A prank? A hallucination? But something had shifted. She hadn’t jumped. That had to mean something. She walked to school in a daze, her uniform slightly wrinkled, her eyes rimmed with fatigue. The world looked the same—students rushing to class, teachers sipping tea in the staff room, the janitor sweeping leaves from the courtyard—but she felt different. Like she was walking through a dream she couldn’t wake from. In class, she glanced at Jiang Ling. He sat in his usual spot, near the window, sketching in his notebook. His hair fell into his eyes, and he didn’t look up once. He was always like that—quiet, distant, unreachable. But now, Zhen Zhen saw him differently. Not just as a classmate, but as someone who might hold the key to her survival. She hesitated, then scribbled a note on a piece of paper. “Can we talk after class?” She folded it and passed it to the girl next to her, who passed it on. When it reached Jiang Ling, he looked up, surprised. Their eyes met. He read the note, then gave a small nod. Zhen Zhen’s heart skipped. The bell rang. Students poured out of the classroom, laughing and chatting. Zhen Zhen lingered by the door, her hands clenched into fists. Jiang Ling approached, his expression unreadable. “You wanted to talk?” he asked. Zhen Zhen nodded. “Can we go somewhere private?” He hesitated, then gestured toward the stairwell. They walked in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken questions. When they reached the landing, she turned to face him. “I got a call last night,” she said. “From you. From the future.” He blinked. “What?” “You told me I was going to die. That I needed to change things. That you were trying to save me.” He stared at her, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t call you.” “I know,” she said quickly. “Not you. The future you. He said he’s from 2024. He said I die before the college entrance exams.” Jiang Ling looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “That’s… insane.” “I know how it sounds,” she said. “But he knew things. Things no one else could know.” He didn’t respond. “I think he’s telling the truth,” she said. “And I think you’re part of it.” Jiang Ling finally looked at her. “Why me?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think we’re supposed to figure it out. Together.” That afternoon, they sat in the library, surrounded by dusty books and the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Zhen Zhen told him everything—about the rooftop, the call, the voice, the strange sense of déjà vu. Jiang Ling listened quietly, his fingers tapping the edge of the table. “I don’t know if I believe you,” he said finally. “But… I believe you believe it.” “That’s enough,” she said. They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the unknown pressing down on them. Then Jiang Ling said, “If we’re going to do this… we need to start somewhere. What’s the first thing you want to change?” Zhen Zhen thought for a moment. “I want to stop being invisible. I want to stop pretending everything’s okay.” He nodded. “Then let’s start there.” Chapter 4: The Distance Between Us The days that followed were unlike anything Zhen Zhen had ever experienced. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t just drifting through school like a ghost. She was seen. Not by everyone—but by Jiang Ling. And that was enough. They began meeting in secret. Sometimes in the library, sometimes on the rooftop—though she never stood too close to the edge anymore. They talked about everything: school, books, their families, their fears. Jiang Ling was still quiet, still guarded, but with her, he opened up in small, careful ways. Zhen Zhen learned that he lived with his grandmother, that his parents had divorced when he was ten, and that he spent most of his time drawing because it was the only way he knew how to make sense of the world. He showed her his sketchbook—pages filled with intricate drawings of cityscapes, dreamlike creatures, and portraits of people he’d observed from afar. One of them was her. “You drew me?” she asked, surprised. He looked away, embarrassed. “You always looked… sad. I guess I wanted to understand why.” Zhen Zhen didn’t know what to say. No one had ever noticed her sadness before. Not really. But not everyone was happy about their growing closeness. Qiu Qianhad been Zhen Zhen’s best friend since middle school. They’d shared secrets, snacks, and sleepovers. But lately, Qiu Qian had been distant—her smiles tighter, her words clipped. One afternoon, as Zhen Zhen packed her bag, Qiu Qian approached her desk. “Got a minute?” she asked. Zhen Zhen nodded, following her out into the hallway. “What’s going on with you and Jiang Ling?” Qiu Qian asked, arms crossed. Zhen Zhen hesitated. “We’re just… talking.” “Since when do you talk to him? You barely even looked at him before.” “I know. It’s complicated.” Qiu Qian’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been avoiding me. Ever since that day you disappeared after school. I was worried sick, Zhen Zhen. And now you’re sneaking around with him?” “I’m not sneaking,” Zhen Zhen said, her voice rising. “I just needed someone to talk to.” “What about me?” Qiu Qian snapped. “I’ve always been here for you.” Zhen Zhen opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know how to explain. How could she tell her best friend that she’d been on the verge of ending her life? That a voice from the future had pulled her back? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.” Qiu Qian looked at her for a long moment, then turned and walked away. Zhen Zhen stood there, feeling the distance between them stretch like a chasm. That night, Old Jiang called again. “She’s mad at me,” Zhen Zhen said, curled up on her bed. “Qiu Qian. I think I broke something.” “I remember that fight,” Old Jiang said. “It was bad. You stopped talking for weeks.” Zhen Zhen’s heart sank. “So I’m just repeating the same mistakes?” “Not necessarily,” he said. “You’re already changing things. You didn’t jump. That’s huge.” “But what if I make it worse?” “You won’t,” he said. “You’re stronger than you think.” She was quiet for a moment. “Why are you helping me?” There was a pause. Then he said, “Because I couldn’t before. And because… I cared about you. More than I ever said.” Zhen Zhen’s breath caught. “But we barely talked.” “I know,” he said. “And I regret that every day.” Chapter 5: The Storm Breaks The week after her fight with Qiu Qian was the loneliest Zhen Zhen had felt in a long time. The silence between them was deafening. They passed each other in the hallways like strangers, their eyes never meeting. The absence of Qiu Qian’s laughter, her teasing remarks, her comforting presence—it left a hollow space in Zhen Zhen’s chest. And the school noticed. Whispers followed her down the corridors. Some students speculated she and Jiang Ling were dating. Others said she had betrayed her best friend. A few even claimed she was mentally unstable. The rumors spread like wildfire, feeding on the silence between her and Qiu Qian. Zhen Zhen tried to ignore it. She focused on her conversations with Old Jiang, on her secret meetings with young Jiang Ling, on trying to understand what had gone wrong in her original timeline. But the pressure was building. Then came the breaking point.

It started with a class quiz. Zhen Zhen had studied hard—harder than she ever had before. She was determined to prove to herself that she could still succeed, that she could still change her future. When the results came back, she had the highest score in the class. Instead of praise, she got suspicion. “She must have cheated,” someone whispered. “She’s never scored that high before.” “Maybe Jiang Ling helped her. He’s always scribbling in that notebook. Maybe it’s a code.” The accusations were quiet at first, but they grew louder. Notes were passed. Snide comments were made. Even the teacher looked at her with narrowed eyes. Then, one afternoon, she was called to the principal’s office.

Principal Zhang was a stern man with a reputation for being fair but unyielding. He gestured for her to sit. “An Zhen Zhen,” he said, folding his hands. “We’ve received a report that you may have cheated on the recent mathematics quiz.” Zhen Zhen’s heart dropped. “That’s not true.” “I hope not,” he said. “But we take these matters seriously. We’ll be conducting an investigation. Until then, I’m afraid your score will be withheld.” She sat there, stunned. “But I didn’t cheat. I studied. I worked hard.” “I understand,” he said. “But we have to follow procedure.” Zhen Zhen left the office in a daze. As she walked back to class, she could feel the eyes on her. The whispers were louder now, more confident. She was no longer just a rumor—she was a scandal.

That night, she didn’t answer Old Jiang’s call. She turned off her phone, curled up in bed, and stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts spiraled. What was the point of trying to change anything if the world refused to see her differently? If every step forward only led to more pain? She thought about the rooftop again. The wind. The silence. The peace. She closed her eyes and tried to remember Jiang Ling’s voice. Not the young one—the older one. The one who had begged her to live. But all she could hear now were the whispers.

The next day, she didn’t go to school. She wandered the city instead, her phone still off, her bag slung over her shoulder. She walked past the bookstore where she used to browse novels, past the park where she and Qiu Qian used to sit and share snacks, past the river where she once skipped stones with her father before he stopped coming home. By evening, she found herself back at the school gates. The building loomed in the fading light, its windows glowing faintly. She climbed the stairs to the rooftop, her footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The wind greeted her like an old friend. She stepped to the edge. And then—“Zhen Zhen!” She turned. Jiang Lingwas there, panting, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder. His eyes were wide with fear. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just… I’m so tired.” He walked toward her slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. “You don’t have to do this.” “No one believes me,” she said. “They think I’m a liar. A cheater. Even Qiu Qian hates me.” “I don’t,” he said. “I believe you.” She looked at him, tears streaming down her face. “Why?” “Because I’ve seen you,” he said. “The real you. The one who’s trying so hard to hold everything together. You’re not invisible to me.” She took a shaky breath. “I don’t know how to fix this.” “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He held out his hand. Zhen Zhen stared at it for a long moment. Then she took it. And stepped away from the edge. Chapter 6: The Rescue The rooftop was quiet again, but this time, Zhen Zhen wasn’t alone. Jiang Ling stood beside her, his hand still wrapped around hers. His grip was firm, but not forceful—like an anchor, not a chain. The wind tugged at their clothes, but neither of them moved. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the breeze. “For what?” he asked gently. “For dragging you into this. For being… like this.” “You didn’t drag me into anything,” he said. “I chose to be here.” She looked at him, her eyes red. “Why?” He hesitated, then said, “Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning. And because… I care.” Zhen Zhen’s breath caught. She looked away, blinking back tears. They sat down together, backs against the rooftop wall. The city stretched out before them, lights flickering on as dusk settled in. For a long time, they didn’t speak. They just sat there, side by side, the silence between them no longer heavy, but comforting.

Later that night, Zhen Zhen turned her phone back on. It buzzed almost immediately. Old Jiangwas calling. She answered. “I was so scared,” he said, his voice shaking. “You didn’t pick up. I thought I was too late.” “I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But he was there. The younger you. He stopped me.” There was a pause. Then, “Thank you.” “For what?” “For giving me another chance to be there for you. Even if it’s not really me.” Zhen Zhen smiled faintly. “He’s different from you.” “I know,” Old Jiang said. “He hasn’t made all my mistakes yet.” “Maybe he won’t,” she said. “Maybe we can change that too.”

The next day, Zhen Zhen returned to school. She walked through the gates with her head held high, even as the whispers continued. She didn’t care anymore. She had faced the edge and stepped back. Nothing they said could hurt her more than what she had already survived. She found Qiu Qian by the vending machines during lunch. “Hey,” Zhen Zhen said. Qiu Qian looked up, surprised. “Hey.” “I’m sorry,” Zhen Zhen said. “I should’ve told you what was going on. I just… didn’t know how.” Qiu Qian studied her for a moment. Then she sighed. “I was mad. But I was also scared. You disappeared, and then you came back like nothing happened. I didn’t know what to do.” “I wasn’t okay,” Zhen Zhen admitted. “But I’m trying to be.” Qiu Qian nodded slowly. “Okay. Then let’s try together.” They hugged, and for the first time in weeks, Zhen Zhen felt whole again.

That evening, she met Jiang Ling in the library. “I talked to Qiu Qian,” she said. “We’re okay now.” He smiled. “Good.” She sat down across from him. “I think I’m ready.” “For what?” “To figure out what’s really going on. Why I was going to die. What we need to change.” Jiang Ling opened his sketchbook. Inside was a timeline he’d drawn—events, dates, names. At the center was her name, circled in red. “We start here,” he said, pointing to a date two weeks away. “That’s when everything starts to fall apart.” Zhen Zhen leaned in. “What happens?” He looked at her, his expression serious. “Gu Ming tries to kill himself. And you’re the only one who can stop him.” Chapter 7: Gu Ming’s Fall The name Gu Ming had always been synonymous with perfection. He was the class leader, the top scorer, the dependable one. Teachers adored him, students respected him, and parents held him up as the gold standard. He was the kind of person who seemed to have it all together—until the cracks began to show. Zhen Zhen had never been particularly close to Gu Ming. Their interactions were polite, limited to group projects and classroom discussions. But now, with Jiang Ling’s timeline as a guide, she began to pay closer attention. And what she saw unsettled her. Gu Ming had grown quieter. His once-confident voice now trembled when he spoke in front of the class. He flinched when his phone buzzed. He stayed late after school, often alone, staring blankly at his notes. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his smile—once effortless—now looked forced. Zhen Zhen brought it up to Jiang Ling during one of their rooftop meetings. “He’s not okay,” she said. “I can feel it.” Jiang Ling nodded. “In my timeline, no one noticed. Or maybe they did, but they didn’t say anything. He jumped from this very rooftop. A week before the college entrance exams.” Zhen Zhen’s stomach turned. “Why?” “Blackmail,” Jiang Ling said. “Someone found out about his father’s gambling debts. They threatened to expose him unless he paid up. He couldn’t handle the pressure.” Zhen Zhen clenched her fists. “We have to stop it.”

The next day, she approached Gu Ming during lunch. “Hey,” she said, trying to sound casual. “You okay?” He looked up from his textbook, startled. “Yeah. Why?” “You just seem… tired.” He gave a weak smile. “Aren’t we all?” She sat down across from him. “If something’s wrong, you can talk to me. I mean it.” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She didn’t push. Not yet. But she started watching more closely.

That evening, she told Old Jiang about it. “He’s shutting me out,” she said. “I don’t know how to reach him.” “You have to find out who’s blackmailing him,” Old Jiang said. “In my time, we never figured it out. Maybe if you can stop them…” Zhen Zhen nodded. “I’ll try.”

Over the next few days, she and Jiang Ling worked together like detectives. They watched who Gu Ming talked to, who he avoided, who seemed to have power over him. They noticed he flinched whenever Chen Rui, a senior with a reputation for shady dealings, walked by. One afternoon, Zhen Zhen followed Gu Ming after school. He didn’t notice her as he slipped behind the gymnasium, where Chen Rui was waiting. Zhen Zhen ducked behind a wall and listened. “You have until Friday,” Chen Rui said. “Or everyone finds out what your dad did.” “I’m trying,” Gu Ming said, his voice shaking. “But I can’t get that much money.” “Not my problem,” Chen Rui said. “Figure it out.” Zhen Zhen’s heart pounded. She waited until Chen Rui left, then approached Gu Ming. “I heard everything,” she said. He turned, panic in his eyes. “You can’t tell anyone.” “I won’t,” she said. “But you don’t have to do this alone.” He looked at her, broken. “Why do you care?” “Because someone cared enough to save me,” she said. “Now it’s my turn.”

With Jiang Ling’s help, they gathered evidence—recordings, messages, witnesses. They brought it to the school counselor, who took it seriously. Within days, Chen Rui was suspended and placed under investigation. Gu Ming was safe. He didn’t thank them with words. Instead, he left a note in Zhen Zhen’s locker. “You saved me. I won’t forget it.”

That night, Old Jiang called. “You did it,” he said, his voice full of wonder. “He’s alive. That never happened before.” Zhen Zhen smiled. “We’re changing things.” “Yes,” he said. “But there’s still more to come.” She frowned. “What do you mean?” There was a pause. “I still don’t know what caused your death,” he said. “Even now, it’s a mystery. But I think… someone didn’t want you to live.” Zhen Zhen’s blood ran cold. “You mean… someone tried to kill me?” “I don’t know,” he said. “But we’re getting closer to the truth.” Chapter 8: The Writer’s Despair (2024) The rain had been falling for hours, a steady rhythm against the cracked windows of the tiny apartment. Inside, Jiang Ling—older now, worn and hollow-eyed—sat hunched over a cluttered desk. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a desk lamp and the pale blue light of a laptop screen. Stacks of notebooks surrounded him, their pages filled with sketches, timelines, and scribbled notes. On the wall above his desk, a corkboard was pinned with photographs, newspaper clippings, and a calendar marked with red Xs. At the center of it all was a photo of An Zhen Zhen, smiling shyly in her school uniform. Jiang Ling stared at the screen. The cursor blinked at the end of a sentence he’d rewritten a dozen times. “She stepped back from the edge, not because she believed in herself, but because someone believed in her.” He leaned back, rubbing his eyes. His fingers trembled. He hadn’t eaten all day. The only thing keeping him going was the story—the story he was writing, the story he was living. Save My Doomsday. It had started as a desperate act. A way to cope with the guilt. But somewhere along the way, it had become something more. A lifeline. A confession. A prayer. He looked over at the hospital bed in the corner of the room. Zhen Zhen lay still, her face pale, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the ventilator. Tubes snaked from her arms, machines beeped softly. She had been in a coma for over a year. They said she might never wake up. But Jiang Ling refused to believe that. Every day, he read to her. Chapters from the novel. Letters he wrote. Memories he had never shared. He told her about the calls—how he had found the old rotary phone in a junk shop, how he’d discovered it could connect to the past, how he’d used it to reach her in 2012. He didn’t know if she could hear him. But he hoped.

That night, he read aloud from the latest chapter. “Gu Ming stood on the rooftop, the wind howling around him. His eyes were empty, his hands clenched. But then she appeared—Zhen Zhen, her voice steady, her eyes full of fire. ‘You’re not alone,’ she said. ‘I know what it’s like to want to disappear. But I also know what it’s like to be pulled back.’” He paused, glancing at her. “You saved him,” he whispered. “You did what I couldn’t.” He closed the laptop and stood, walking over to her bedside. He took her hand in his, cold and limp. “I don’t know if this is working,” he said. “I don’t know if you can hear me. But I’m not giving up. I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep calling. I’ll keep trying.” He sat beside her, resting his head on the edge of the bed. “I miss you,” he whispered. “I miss the you I never really knew.”

Outside, the rain continued to fall. Inside, the cursor blinked on the screen, waiting for the next line. Chapter 9: The Awakening The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The rain had stopped, leaving streaks of water on the windowpane that caught the morning light like silver threads. Jiang Lingsat slouched in the chair beside Zhen Zhen’s bed, his head resting on his folded arms. He had fallen asleep mid-sentence, the open manuscript of Save My Doomsday resting on his lap. His voice had grown hoarse from reading, but he never missed a day. It was the only way he knew to stay close to her. Zhen Zhen’s fingers twitched. It was subtle—barely a movement—but it was enough to make the heart monitor skip a beat. The machine beeped louder, faster. Jiang Ling stirred, blinking groggily. He looked at her hand, then at her face. Her eyelids fluttered. “Zhen Zhen?” he whispered, sitting up straight. Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then blinking against the light. She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him. “Jiang… Ling?” she croaked, her voice dry and cracked. He froze. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Then he laughed—a broken, disbelieving sound—and reached for the call button. “She’s awake!” he shouted. “She’s awake!”

The next few days were a blur of doctors, nurses, tests, and cautious optimism. Zhen Zhen was weak, her muscles atrophied from months of stillness, but her mind was sharp. She remembered everything. Or at least, she thought she did. The rooftop. The phone calls. The younger Jiang Ling. The investigations. The rescue. The novel. It had all felt so real. But when she asked the doctors about the phone, they looked confused. “There was no phone,” one of them said. “You were found unconscious on the rooftop. You’ve been in a coma ever since.” “But I remember…” she began, then trailed off. Had it all been a dream?

A week later, she was discharged from the hospital. Her mother cried as she helped her into the car. Qiu Qian visited every day, bringing her favorite snacks and gossip from school. Gu Ming sent her a letter, thanking her again and promising to visit soon. But Jiang Ling didn’t come. Not the older one. Not the younger one. She asked about him, but no one seemed to know where he was. He had disappeared from school shortly after her fall. Some said he transferred. Others said he dropped out. Zhen Zhen felt the absence like a missing piece of herself.

One afternoon, she wandered into a quiet bookstore near the hospital. The smell of old paper and ink wrapped around her like a blanket. She browsed the shelves aimlessly, her fingers trailing over spines. Then she saw it. A book on display near the counter. Save My Doomsday By An Zhen Zhen She stared at it, stunned. Her name. Her story. The cover was a sketch of a girl standing on a rooftop, her hair blowing in the wind, a phone in her hand. She picked it up, flipping through the pages. It was all there. Every moment. Every conversation. Every emotion. She turned to the dedication page. To the girl I couldn’t save—until I did. Her hands trembled. It hadn’t been a dream. Chapter 10: The Meeting The bookstore was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every page turn sound like a whisper in a cathedral. An Zhen Zhen stood frozen in front of the display table, her fingers still resting on the cover of Save My Doomsday. Her name was printed in bold letters, but she hadn’t written it—at least, not in the way people would think. She flipped through the pages again, her heart pounding. Every word was familiar. Every scene, every line of dialogue, every emotion—it was all there. The rooftop. The phone calls. The friendship with Jiang Ling. The pain. The hope. The rescue. It was her life. Her dream. Her truth. But how? She turned to the back cover, hoping for a clue. There was no author photo. No biography. Just a single line: “Sometimes, the only way to save someone is to tell their story.” She closed the book, her hands trembling. And then she saw him. Across the room, standing by the philosophy section, was a young man with messy hair and a familiar slouch. He was flipping through a thick paperback—Ulysses by James Joyce. Her breath caught. She took a step forward. He looked up. Their eyes met. For a moment, the world fell away. The bookstore, the shelves, the soft music playing overhead—it all disappeared. There was only him. And her. And the weight of everything they had shared in a world that may or may not have existed. “Jiang Ling?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He blinked. “Do I… know you?” She smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “Not yet.” He looked at her, puzzled. Then his gaze dropped to the book in her hands. “You’re the author?” he asked, pointing to Save My Doomsday. She nodded. “Sort of.” He smiled, and it was the same smile she remembered from her dream. Quiet. Gentle. Real. “I read it,” he said. “It felt… familiar. Like I’d lived it.” “Maybe you did,” she said. They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with something unspoken. Recognition. Connection. Destiny. “Do you want to get coffee?” he asked. She nodded. “I’d like that.” As they walked out of the bookstore together, side by side, Zhen Zhen glanced at the sky. It was clear and blue, the sun warm on her face. The doomsday she had feared was gone. In its place was something new. A beginning.

THE END By: ___________________