Chapter Sixty-One: How Did You Know?

Although he spoke lightly, Cheng Zhi’s clenched fists betrayed his true feelings at that moment.

Zhou Yi smiled gently. Seeing Cheng Zhi like this, much of his worry faded.

“It’s just a spirit stone. It’s nothing more than bait you’ve released, or perhaps you yourself can’t touch it freely, but simply approaching it allowed you to sense the difference in this world and awaken your own consciousness. With each cycle of the world, you carry your memories and begin to prepare ahead of time.”

Zhou Yi spoke slowly, each word falling deliberately.

The more Cheng Zhi listened, the more anxious he became. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned pale.

“You’re overthinking it. I’m just a computer science student. Finding that stone was purely accidental. I happened to touch the box and felt comfortable. Every day, it’s as if I’m addicted—I always want to take a look, and then I noticed something different. The way you describe it, it sounds as if I've got some grand plan.”

Zhou Yi raised his hand and applauded Cheng Zhi. Such quick thinking—his response was impressive.

“What a coincidence, you almost convinced me! Forget about holding out. I don’t have much time, so let’s get to the point. Let me guess and see if I’m right: in this world, you’ve gone through countless cycles—I don’t know how many—but since your awakening, you’ve repeated the process many times.

In the very first cycle, you were a student in the geology department, conducting experiments with your professor, or perhaps you discovered something unique about the box by accident. You secretly opened it, and after coming into contact with the spirit stone, everything changed for you.

Maybe you took a spirit stone you could touch, hid it somewhere shielded. Inspired by the stone’s outer shell, you stashed away the spirit stone and all your assets, leaving yourself a message, spelling out everything.

The letter must be hidden somewhere you always return to before university, somewhere secret and unavoidable. I imagine it’s in your old family home in Henan—perhaps tucked into the beam of the house, or boxed and buried under a tree?”

Cheng Zhi looked at Zhou Yi in terror.

He truly couldn’t sit still anymore. This man was terrifying: his words were slow and quiet, but every syllable struck directly at his heart.

“How do you know that?”

Zhou Yi gazed at Cheng Zhi and continued:

“Getting nervous, aren’t you? I haven’t finished yet. Sit down. I didn’t come here today intending violence. You know what Meng Xiaojiao and Zhang Linna are capable of. Don’t be fooled by the fact that you killed two of our people. If I wanted to eliminate you, it would be effortless.”

The threat worked.

Zhou Yi’s composure made Cheng Zhi even more uneasy. He understood well: Zhou Yi dared to come alone, armed with so many secrets, clearly confident in his abilities. The baseball bat had already been discarded outside.

If Zhou Yi had entered and struck without a word, Cheng Zhi would already be dead.

But he wasn’t so violent. He’d spoken at length—clearly, he had other intentions.

Zhou Yi watched Cheng Zhi, noting his restless eyes and understanding his thoughts.

“If you’ve figured it out, just listen to me. In this world of endless cycles, you accumulate wealth, hiding it away in secret places. Even if you become the world’s richest man, what’s the point?

I suspect you’ve been amassing money, laundering it, and using people for one purpose: seeking spirit stones. Searching for them in every precious metal or gemstone mine—that’s the real reason for your accumulation.”

As for Meng Xiaojiao and Zhang Linna, you sent them off with a spirit stone. The real spirit stone is hidden in the place where you avoid the world’s repetition.

But I do have one question: when the world cycles back, returning to years ago, how do you deal with the other version of yourself? Do you leave a message, as I suggested, or do you kill your other self? That’s a tough decision.”

Cheng Zhi bit his lip, staring into Zhou Yi’s eyes. This man was terrifying; every word pierced his deepest pain.

“You’re really imaginative. Don’t try to provoke me—it won’t work.”

Zhou Yi stood up.

“One last question: did you kill the two people our base sent earlier?”

Cheng Zhi shook his head, hastily defending himself:

“No, I didn’t kill them. I honestly can’t say what happened. They seemed to have found information about the spirit stone and came searching at Shanda, but couldn’t pinpoint the location. Then they disappeared.

At first, I thought Zhang Linna and Meng Xiaojiao had killed them, but when I probed, they didn’t know anything. Later, I claimed I killed two people from the base, but that was just to threaten them.”

Zhou Yi stared at Cheng Zhi’s eyes. At such close range, Cheng Zhi’s face looked relaxed, without any signs of anxiety or sweat on the tip of his nose.

It seemed he was telling the truth. If this was a mask, then Cheng Zhi was truly remarkable.

“So you didn’t kill them, but you know they’re dead, right?”

Cheng Zhi nodded and looked up at Zhou Yi.

“They came looking for me and later started attending Shanda, probably hoping to steal the spirit stone. I secretly followed them, but the last time, I fainted.

When I woke up, I was lying on the rooftop—just ten centimeters from falling off—and the two of them were beside me, covered in blood, already dead.

I was terrified and ran off. After that, they never appeared again. I was curious and checked the rooftop, but there was no blood, no bodies. No one in their class remembered them. After that, I didn’t dare ask around.

When Zhang Linna found me, she said if I helped them find the spirit stone, I’d be rewarded. Once they succeeded, they’d take me to live with the Hunter Clan.”

Zhou Yi observed Cheng Zhi’s eyes. Clearly, Cheng Zhi hadn’t believed Zhang Linna’s promise.

In fact, Zhou Yi knew nothing about the Hunter Clan, but according to what Sofia said about the temporal rift, it didn’t sound like a bright or spacious place.

“They promised to take you away with the spirit stone—a transaction, it seems.

You’ve encountered Hunters and some of the base’s Chosen Ones. As an awakened, if you don’t make a choice now, what awaits you could be tragic: the erasure of every trace of your existence.

I sent everyone else away to point out a path. It may not be glorious, but it guarantees your safety and preserves your secrets. If you return to the base with me, you’ll have a future—you won’t be destroyed.”

Cheng Zhi pressed his lips together.

Zhou Yi’s proposal was truly tempting, yet the final secret made Cheng Zhi shiver inwardly. For some reason, he felt Zhou Yi knew everything.

“You want me to go with you? What would I do at the base?”

Zhou Yi waved his hand.

“Let’s leave that aside for now. Tell me, what mines have you acquired, or have you moved up their operational timelines, or what exactly have you done?”

Cheng Zhi bit his lip and glanced at the master bedroom.

“If it’s inconvenient to talk here, shall we go somewhere else?”

Cheng Zhi sighed. He knew Zhou Yi was being polite today. Otherwise, he would have been threatened or bribed from the start, and the day would have been wasted.

His best outcome would be to escape, wait for the world to reset, and start over.

If things went badly, he’d vanish from this world entirely. He knew nothing of the Hunter Clan’s territory, and now had no room for choices.

He sighed again, resigning himself. Better to live miserably than die. If he died at their hands, it would be true death—no restart, no second chance, no opportunity to activate his secret.

“How did you know I controlled mineral resources? Did you guess, or did you actually investigate? I cut off every loose end—the people involved don’t understand at all. And now, I’m a computer science graduate. Why would you suspect mines?”

Zhou Yi shifted to a more comfortable position and tilted his head toward Cheng Zhi.

“I mentioned earlier you’re too familiar with Shanda. A computer science student who knows geology department secrets, and this isn’t your first time in that storage room. Meng Xiaojiao tried to get close, but never succeeded.

So the spirit stone is just your bait, tempting people but always out of reach. Furthermore, the stone only reveals its presence in this city—its exact location sensed only when approached.

Li Mei’s father and her deceased ex-husband were probably used by you to transfer assets. That money never went into Li Mei’s company—so where did it go?

You must have your own method, controlling mines, and the mines are in Jinan. I guess the Jiaojia Gold Mine, since at this point it hasn’t merged with Shandong Gold Group. Am I right?”

With things laid out this far, Cheng Zhi truly conceded. Every deduction was precise and reasonable.

Cheng Zhi lowered his head, silent for a long time, before looking up at Zhou Yi.

“I analyzed the composition of the spirit stone’s surface. It has very high gold content, as well as some rare metals—highly specific. After comparison, I found its composition similar to ore from the Jiaojia Gold Mine.

Over the past two years, they’ve found things similar to spirit stones at that mine, but I can’t be sure. When I get close, I feel something, but it’s not as powerful as the geology department’s spirit stone.

I don’t know why. Do you understand?”