Success

Inside a Western-style restaurant, Li Daniu and Liang Wanting sat facing each other.

“I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tom—my Chinese name is... Li Daniu. I’m a reporter for National Geographic.”

“Li Daniu?” If she hadn’t just received some heartbreaking news, Liang Wanting would surely have burst out laughing at that name.

“My name is Liang Wanting. How long have you two... known each other?”

“We...” Li Daniu recalled the first time he saw a film starring Wah Jai; it was “God of Gamblers II,” released in 1991. But Li Daniu had watched it in 2001, and his time-traveling experience happened at the end of 2016. After a quick calculation, he answered, “Sixteen years.”

“Sixteen years? Then you must have been very close. No wonder you were crying so sadly just now.”

We weren’t close at all. I was just acting earlier—acting, you know?

“And what about you? I’m really curious—why did he say that after only meeting you a few times, he fell for you?” Knowing that one lie often demands more to cover it, Li Daniu quickly changed the subject.

Yes, we only met a few times. So why can’t I forget him? Liang Wanting didn’t know why he liked her, or why she liked him.

Was it love at first sight?

Or was it meeting the right person at the wrong time?

“Our first meeting was on the bus. I... helped him with something. The second time, too. He said he wanted to thank me, so he took me out to dinner. During the meal, he... coughed up blood. The third time, he just gave me this necklace, and I never saw him again.”

Liang Wanting recounted her memories, then lapsed into a daze. Was he... still alive?

“Perhaps this is the magic of fate,” Li Daniu sighed. If he hadn’t seen the movie, he’d never have believed Liang Wanting’s story—just three meetings, and they liked each other? Not to mention giving away such a priceless necklace.

“Maybe.” Liang Wanting herself didn’t know—was it the mystery of seeing him surrounded by police with a gun, or the overwhelming confidence and composure when he embraced her? Or perhaps, the heart-wrenching sorrow when he coughed blood in the restaurant?

“Could you tell me about him?” Liang Wanting knew there was little chance—no, no chance at all—of ever meeting him again. Like two strangers who pass by, one wrong step, and perhaps they would never meet in this lifetime. But she didn’t know why—she just wanted to know, wanted to have more memories of him.

“Him...” Li Daniu began to recall all the roles Andy Lau had played in films and started weaving stories out of thin air.

“He was handsome—always so. I remember when we traveled to Hollywood together, more than one talent scout wanted to make him a star. He was gentle, attentive, always confident, always composed. If he were to marry, his wife would surely be very happy.”

“He was talented, a wonderful singer, and his card skills were exceptional. Whenever we played cards, he never lost...”

Li Daniu listed all the strengths of the characters Andy Lau had portrayed. Was it a bit exaggerated? Who cared—in this world, Wah Jai was already dead. Why not leave this girl who wanted to remember him with more beautiful memories?

So he was so outstanding. As Liang Wanting listened to Li Daniu describe Wah Jai’s story, she felt even sadder inside, but also a touch of happiness. So, she had once been liked by someone so remarkable.

Watching Liang Wanting, lost in her own world, Li Daniu felt a pang of guilt. He was about to do something truly despicable. What a beautiful love story—just a few encounters, a handful of words, and a necklace of immeasurable value turned a chance meeting into something sublime. In his previous life, many people didn’t see romance in the film “Running Out of Time,” and neither did Li Daniu.

Yet now, looking at Liang Wanting across the table, moved by the tales he’d spun about Wah Jai, sometimes smiling, sometimes sorrowful, he believed it was a beautiful love. After all, Liang Wanting had no idea of the necklace’s true value; she only saw it as a precious memento, a trinket from a street stall.

A crime thriller more romantic than a romance film?

“Could you... show me the necklace? I believe it’s the last thing he left in this world that holds his memory.”

Li Daniu decided to act. After more than two months of effort in this world, this was the moment he’d worked for.

“Oh?” Liang Wanting was startled, but without hesitation, she took the necklace from her neck and handed it to Li Daniu.

“If it weren’t the only gift he gave me, I wouldn’t mind giving it to you as well.”

Give it to me? Girl, if you knew the real value of this necklace, would you still say that?

Li Daniu took the necklace and examined it closely.

So beautiful—so beautiful it almost looked fake. How could such a large gemstone exist? Even the diamonds set around it were mere supporting players beside that central stone.

As a layman, Li Daniu had no way to judge the authenticity of the necklace, but it didn’t matter. The expert Lau Ching-wan had appraised it in the film. Though he’d told Liang Wanting it was fake, as an onlooker, Li Daniu knew the necklace was real.

Now, he just had to figure out how to pull off the old switcheroo.

“Wah Jai?” Li Daniu looked out the window in surprise.

“What?” Realizing what Li Daniu had said, Liang Wanting suddenly stood and looked outside.

But there was nothing.

“There’s an old saying in China: ‘Objects bring back memories of people.’ Ah... how I wish he’d suddenly appear before me—even if it was just to hit me, I’d gladly accept it.”

A beating would be the least of it. Li Daniu was sure that if Wah Jai knew what he’d done, and appeared before him, he’d probably kill him.

Disappointed, Liang Wanting sat back down in silence. When Li Daniu returned the necklace to her, she no longer felt like wearing it and simply put it in her bag.

“I know my appearance has made you feel worse, but I hope you’ll keep this necklace safe from now on. Even though it’s just a trinket, if you wear it, maybe Wah Jai will see it from heaven.” Acting required commitment to the role. Though Li Daniu didn’t want her to wear the necklace again—at least not for a while—he still told a gentle lie.

“Don’t worry. It’s the only gift he gave me. I’ll keep it safe. But... today, I really don’t want to wear it.” Liang Wanting realized that the more you know, the more you miss. And once you start missing someone, it’s not something you can simply stop.

“Let’s order, then. You’ll need to eat well if you want the strength to hear more of Wah Jai’s stories.”

“All right.”

...

After parting ways with Liang Wanting, Li Daniu returned to his place, locked all the doors and windows, and took out a necklace from his pocket—the exact duplicate of the one Liang Wanting had worn.

Under the light, the necklace glimmered enchantingly.

“Finally got it,” Li Daniu muttered, his excitement nearly overwhelming. Sitting with Liang Wanting, he’d had to hide his feelings for the sake of the performance. On the way back, he had to control himself even more; if he lost his cool and something went wrong, it would be a disaster.

So, the pent-up excitement burst out all at once—Li Daniu went a little mad. He wasn’t truly insane, just acting wild—rolling on the floor, singing, shouting... like a penniless loser who had suddenly won the lottery. And not just any lottery, either—the prize in RMB would definitely exceed a hundred million. How could he not be excited? If he hadn’t already experienced something as bizarre as time travel, the shock alone might have driven him crazy.

“System, can you help me authenticate this necklace?” Li Daniu, ever anxious, thought of his unreliable system.

“It’s genuine.”

“How much is it worth?”

“The value of the same item varies between worlds and eras. No relevant data. Unable to provide a definitive answer.”

Li Daniu was satisfied enough that the system could confirm the necklace was real. As for the price, he understood—such an item couldn’t be valued precisely. Like those news stories about art auctions where the final price far outstripped the estimate—its value was up to fate. If someone loved it, they’d pay anything; if not, they wouldn’t buy it at any price.

Would a self-made tycoon spend all his fortune on a necklace that wouldn’t appreciate in value?

But those Saudi oil magnates, who have more money than they can spend, would surely pay a premium just to own it—it’s not about profit, but about prestige.

“How long until I can return?”

“Three hundred and seventeen hours,” the system replied.

Before, Li Daniu had felt there wasn’t enough time. Now, he wished it would pass faster. Holding such a priceless necklace in the unfamiliar city of Hong Kong, he simply couldn’t relax.

He counted his money—less than two thousand dollars left. In two and a half months, he’d spent over eight thousand, even living frugally. Aside from essentials, the biggest expense had been having a fake necklace custom-made.

That necklace was quite famous in this world; otherwise, so many people wouldn’t have been after it. Li Daniu had found information online, then commissioned a jeweler to craft an exact replica. Fake though it was, Li Daniu felt that since he was taking the real one, he should at least pay for a decent substitute. For him, a fake necklace costing over a thousand dollars was a real investment.

Looking at his run-down accommodations, Li Daniu packed his things and checked out. He needed a room with a safe.

So, lugging two boxes of instant noodles, he checked into a high-end hotel with an in-room safe. Why did he bring two boxes of noodles?

Because after paying for half a month’s stay, he was broke.

Eating instant noodles while holding a twenty-million-dollar necklace... Li Daniu told himself he was just reliving his old instant-noodle days.