After listening to Tang Xiao’s story, told in a calm tone, the Mobius Mushroom fell into silence.
“After that, the story gets pretty boring. Do you still want to hear it?” Tang Xiao asked.
“They haven’t arrived yet anyway. Go on, it’ll pass the time.”
“Even if it’s just to pass the time…” Tang Xiao sighed. “But there really isn’t anything interesting left. After waking up in the hospital, I joined the government project again, just like before. Then, I focused on scientific research.”
“But the only difference was that this time, I agreed to the ‘Spark Project.’”
Realizing that this was the last chance and still finding no hope, Tang Xiao briefly fell into despair, to the point where he couldn’t function normally at work.
The accumulated effects of too many reversals seemed to completely erupt in this cycle. For a time, Tang Xiao found himself completely unable to concentrate on experiments. After barely managing to submit his research data, he fell into a near-vegetative state, sleeping day and night in the hospital. Each day, he was awake for only a couple of hours at most, spending the rest of his time asleep.
His family, as well as the government, were all deeply worried. He was transferred to several different hospitals, yet no one could diagnose any physical ailments. His body was perfectly fine—it was just that every moment he was awake, he felt an overwhelming drowsiness, as if he were making up for all the lost sleep from his years of reversing time. His body was fine, but his soul was exhausted beyond measure.
It was in this state that Li Xiaoyi brought Tang Xiao the application for the ‘Spark Project.’
“…Mr. Li, I think I’ve already rejected you several times.”
During the rare few waking hours he had in a day, before he could even talk to his family, Tang Xiao saw Li Xiaoyi appear at his hospital room’s door.
Tang’s parents temporarily left the room. Leaning against the hospital bed, Tang Xiao looked at the document in Li Xiaoyi’s hands with some irritation.
“I’m a scientist, not an astronaut. Instead of choosing me, you should pick someone more likely to survive in space.”
“But scientists are essential too. If things really come to that point, someone needs to be there to continue human civilization in a new home,” Li Xiaoyi said.
“Then find someone else. Surely there’s someone more suitable and willing than me. Why come to me?” Tang Xiao truly didn’t understand. He stretched out his arm, shaking the IV drip attached to it. “As you can see, for some unknown reason, I can only stay awake for a few hours a day. I don’t even know if I’ll get better.”
“You are the first choice for many of us, including me,” Li Xiaoyi said seriously. “No one understands your determination better than we do, and no one else is more trusted to carry forward human science and civilization.”
Science…
Tang Xiao’s lips trembled slightly as he murmured, “But I failed.”
He had researched for so long, gone through so many reversals, and still, he hadn’t found a way to save humanity.
“But it all must have meant something.” Li Xiaoyi gently held Tang Xiao’s hand. “Besides you, we can’t think of anyone better for this.”
Tang Xiao didn’t even know why he agreed in the end. Maybe it was because he couldn’t refuse the look in Li Xiaoyi’s eyes. Or maybe it was because of some sudden, deep-seated resentment.
He knew that the King of Mushroom’s target was him. If he stayed on Earth, it was only a matter of time before the King of Mushroom achieved its goal.
Miraculously, after Li Xiaoyi’s visit, within a week, Tang Xiao slowly recovered from his previous state of constant sleep. This time, he didn’t throw himself completely into research. Alongside his scientific work, he started targeted training—studying space knowledge, emergency protocols, and physical training.
Half a year later, Tang Xiao learned the name of the spaceship they would board: Bai Jun.
“Bai Jun—that’s the AI you later developed and upgraded,” the Mbius Mushroom asked curiously. “Did you name it after the spaceship?”
“The spaceship’s onboard AI originally didn’t have a name. Later, ‘Bai Jun’ was inherited from another ship, which had already been destroyed on another planet,” Tang Xiao said flatly. “It was a way to commemorate it.”
More importantly, it was to remember that fleeting time, like a time passing by.
After the Bai Jun set off, they passed through a wormhole in the solar system, successfully making the jump and leaving the Milky Way. Then came a long space voyage, though most of the time, the crew spent it in cryosleep. At first, Tang Xiao didn’t notice anything unusual.
But as time passed, wrinkles and white hair appeared on the faces of the other crew members—while he remained exactly as he had been at the start.
Tang Xiao had always known that he was much older than his apparent age. Due to repeated time reversals, he had long lost track of how many years he had actually lived. He had certainly far exceeded his twenties. But outwardly, he remained young. He had always chalked it up to the effects of time reversal and never thought much of it.
Yet as he watched his peers aboard the Bai Jun gradually age while he stayed the same, he finally took notice of the issue of his lifespan—but he had no idea what had caused it.
It was as if, after so many reversals, time itself had cursed him. No matter how long passed, Tang Xiao’s appearance remained unchanged.
Of course, he tried to figure out the reason. He resumed his research, using the ship’s equipment to rebuild a lab and study himself. But he found that, at some unknown point, his genetic structure had become chaotic.
At the same time, Tang Xiao started dreaming.
At first, after leaving Earth, he often had dreams—dreams about what had happened during his reversals. But as their journey in space continued, those dreams became fewer and fewer. Eventually, he realized he could barely remember the faces of the people from Earth.
First, it was friends and acquaintances. Then, even his family.
And then—
Maybe it was the effect of cosmic radiation, but in the end, Tang Xiao found it almost impossible to dream at all. Even his sleep duration had significantly shortened, yet he never felt tired.
But now, he was dreaming again. Yet the dreams had nothing to do with his past life on Earth. Instead, they were stranger, more surreal, more incomprehensible than anything before.
A story about a strange higher-dimensional being roaming the universe.
After waking from dream after dream, Tang Xiao finally pieced together the truth from fragmented information.
Until the last of his companions grew old and died on the newly discovered planet, Tang Xiao calmly buried him, then turned and returned to the refuge built upon the ruins of the abandoned spaceship.
This place had already been transformed into a laboratory. The AI, Bai Jun, diligently opened the door as soon as Tang Xiao approached, displaying a [Smile] emoticon on its screen: “Welcome back, Dr. Tang.”
“Activate the laboratory. Open the unfinished data files.”
“Task completed. Please conduct research in moderation and take care of your body~” Bai Jun's soft electronic voice responded.
“...Take care of my body, huh.” Tang Xiao closed his eyes briefly, the corners of his lips curving into a bitter smile as he turned to look at the last remaining firearm on the desk.
That was originally meant to be his way out after the death of his final companion. But now, because of those dreams, he might not be able to die so easily.
No matter what, he had to seek the truth. After all their efforts, what had it all been for?
He began using his long-sealed ability to rewind time once more.
Perhaps because they had traveled too far, leaving the Milky Way far behind, even when he used it, he felt no palpitations. It seemed that, no matter how powerful the King of Mushroom was, even it could not cross such an immense distance.
But this time, it was different. Each time he activated this ability, Tang Xiao felt himself merging more deeply with something, receiving even more information about this mysterious higher-dimensional species.
He tried to extract useful intelligence, attempting to reconstruct the truth, and finally—he saw it.
The moment when the first higher-dimensional being arrived on Earth.
“You already know the rest of the story,” Tang Xiao said calmly. “I arrived in this era, at this place, to meet you.”
“At that time, you seemed very angry.”
“Who wouldn't be angry? Especially after learning the truth behind everything—that all of it was so your offspring could be born.”
Everything began with the Mbius Mushroom. It was the sower of life on this planet. It chose this place as a graveyard.
But fate is unpredictable. A single spore accidentally drifted into a parallel universe through a wormhole.
That spore became the King of Mushroom.
That was why it was willing to do anything to return to this universe—to obtain the final key to its evolution. This was the origin of all disasters.
And that key had been placed by the Mbius Mushroom within the genes of a naturally occurring species on this planet. After billions of years of drift, it eventually found its way into the human body.
That human was Tang Xiao.
The essence of the Mbius Mushroom lay in its natural ability to defy temporal paradoxes. Time was not a straight line for it—what was past was not merely past, and the future could also be the past.
It was the future that had led to the present.
Because the key remained within Tang Xiao, he was destined to return from the future to this point. Everyone's actions, in the end, were all necessary to complete this Mbius loop, achieving a perfect cycle of cause and effect.
That was why, no matter how many times Tang Xiao rewound time, it was futile. The root cause lay with the Mbius Mushroom, this higher-dimensional species. And the end of it all must also be with this species.
“But you still chose to do this,” the Mbius Mushroom said calmly. “I never forced you to follow this path. You could have, after learning the truth, returned to your timeline and continued living with the new humans on that planet. Why didn't you choose that?”
“Yeah, why…” Tang Xiao murmured. “Maybe because... I just couldn't accept it.”
“It all began with you and ended with you. But what about us? What was the meaning of all the effort we humans put in?”
Tang Xiao tightened his grip on the USB drive in his hand. Within it was the culmination of countless loops, the projects countless scientists had worked tirelessly to complete—the crystallization of human civilization.
Ever since he left Earth aboard Bai Jun, this USB drive had hung around Tang Xiao’s neck, resting closest to his heart.
The Mbius Mushroom fell into a long silence. Tang Xiao didn’t mind. This wasn’t a question for a god, nor one that an outsider should answer.
After learning the truth, Tang Xiao had felt anger and resentment. But as the Mbius Mushroom had said, he had never been forced into this. He could have chosen not to follow this path, to return and continue building human civilization on a new planet.
But in the end, he still agreed. However, he set one condition for the Mbius Mushroom in exchange.
“First, there has to be a system.” Tang Xiao sat cross-legged on the ground, resting his chin on his hand. “Preferably a game system. I don’t remember everything clearly, but I think I used to love games.”
Only a game could lure his past self into the trap.
“As for the main storyline…”
‘Tang Xiao’ originally planned to set it up as a self-sacrificial ending. According to the Mbius Mushroom’s information, as long as he ultimately led himself to the ‘successor,’ that would be enough. There were probably games of this type—so long as it was hidden well enough, he himself wouldn't reject it in the end.
But at that moment, a vague memory flashed through ‘Tang Xiao’s’ mind.
Love...
‘Tang Xiao’ tugged at the corner of his lips. For reasons even he couldn't explain, his thoughts took a turn, and he added a new condition to the original storyline—reaching full favorability.
“And a stat-boosting system. Without that, I’d have a hard time surviving in the beginning.”
“And a login and logout function. That’s important too.”
‘Tang Xiao’ only fully mastered his abilities and understood why only he had truly crossed over after gradually merging with the key. However, to prevent this timeline’s Tang Xiao from learning the truth too soon, he made a few subtle adjustments.
“Tch… there's even a CG system? I can barely remember what that experimental subject looked like anymore.”
“More research tasks would be nice. Romance? Whatever.”
‘Tang Xiao’ couldn't help but recall how that foolish monster saw through his plan at the very last moment.
If he had saved him from the very beginning—without so many rewinds, without carrying such crushing despair from the start—what would they have been like?
Out of curiosity, ‘Tang Xiao’ occasionally accessed the backdoor of the game system, secretly observing his own progress in this world.
“Heh… So I had such a foolish phase?”
Watching himself working as an errand boy in Bader’s lab—while doing chores, he was also secretly learning and pretending to be familiar with the place—’Tang Xiao’ couldn't help but internally roast himself: “Doesn't even know how to run experiments. Needs help correcting his papers. What did you even do during university? Oh, right, just played games all day. No wonder.”
“Tsk, this paper is full of holes. The applause from those below is clearly out of kindness for a newbie. I could pick out several issues right away.”
“Finally wrote something decent.”
‘Tang Xiao’ ridiculed himself, but he had to admit, the feeling was novel. He couldn't even remember the last time he published a paper.
He watched as this timeline’s Tang Xiao walked a completely different path.
Using the system's backdoor, he observed the moments between 428 and Tang Xiao. He found himself wondering—how many rewinds had it taken before he managed to save 428?
Hundreds of rewinds, just for one time—428 survived.
Countless more, just for one time—428 fell in love with ‘Tang Xiao’.
…How many rewinds, how many timelines, would it take for them to fall in love at the right moment?
In the darkness of the dissection room, a monster took slow steps toward the human slumped against the wall. Behind the monster, an ethereal figure of another ‘Tang Xiao’ stood, unseen by anyone.
‘Tang Xiao quietly watched them perform their hostile act—a scene that seemed to depict the relationship between human and monster, researcher and experimental subject, hunter and hunted.
But in truth, 428 was simply using the opportunity to secretly embrace his human.
Jun Tesi.
That name suddenly surfaced in his mind. It was actually a term from the Mbius Mushroom species, meaning—
[You are a miracle across time and space.]
‘Tang Xiao’ had done so much, all to ensure that this time, the war would end, and both worlds would be saved.
He calculated everything meticulously, ensuring that his past self would follow the most promising path.
And indeed, even when Tang Xiao later discovered the truth of that world, in the end, just as he had predicted, he died at that exact point in time.
With that, the loop was complete. This should have been enough...
...Right?
“Didn’t expect you to actually survive.” ‘Tang Xiao’ cast a deep look at his past self. Ever since his faked death, things had spiraled beyond his plan. It should have ended there—perfectly. The two worlds would merge flawlessly, the war would end, and Jun Tesi, for the sake of his lover, would no longer trouble humanity. That was the ideal future in his mind.
But no one expected another deviation—once again, because of 428.
‘Tang Xiao’s’ plan had only ever failed twice.
Once, because of 428.
Once, because of Jun Tesi.
Was this species born to defy him? Now what was he supposed to do? ‘Tang Xiao’ bit his nails anxiously. A mishap in world fusion was no trivial matter.
“Don’t panic,” the Mbius Mushroom said calmly. “They’re here.”
The moment the words fell, ‘Tang Xiao’ saw two figures appear.
A faint breeze seemed to nudge him gently from behind.
‘Tang Xiao’ lifted his head in shock, gazing at the iridescent branches of the Mbius Mushroom.
[The meaning you spoke of—perhaps this is it.]
‘Tang Xiao’ struggled desperately to go back countless times. The science and technology trees that human beings had struggled to climb on countless lines.
If there was meaning to any of this…
“...You came here for this, didn’t you?” Tang Xiao smiled. “To obtain the technology from that world, the one that prevents world fusion.”
The future shaped the present.
So this technology must have always existed for this moment.
[From Universe 001 to all of humanity.]
Tang Xiao and Jun Tesi vanished from this era once more.
‘Tang Xiao’ knew—they were moving forward.
In truth, he had told one last lie.
The convergence of worldlines didn’t necessarily mean parallel universes would disappear.
But he had requested it—his final condition to the Mbius Mushroom.
He didn’t want to endure endless years alone anymore. Besides, that power belonged somewhere it was needed more.
“Are you really okay with this? With your knowledge, you could build a civilization far greater than before.”
“Spare me.” ‘Tang Xiao’ sighed. “Do you want me to watch generation after generation pass again? Besides, I was never into research.”
Liking research was something for those who had experienced its joys and accomplishments—like this timeline’s Tang Xiao.
But for ‘Tang Xiao’ himself, research was just a survival tool.
Maybe he had once liked it, but after countless rewinds, any fondness had long been ground to dust. It wasn’t just that interest had turned into work—interest had beaten him into the ground, and he had no choice but to endure.
He had no noble aspirations of being humanity’s guardian. The road was too lonely, too exhausting.
“Besides, you already gave your remaining power to Jun Tesi, saving him years of growth,” ‘Tang Xiao’ said. “You need this energy more. Though it’s nearly depleted now that Jun Tesi has become Mbius Mushroom… At least it was enough for the final task.”
480 million years ago, life had yet to be born. The Earth belonged solely to mushrooms.
Later, insects would emerge as new ecological challengers and multicellular life would take the stage.
The world had yet to come alive. The Mbius Mushroom could not fall just yet.
So it said no more. ‘Tang Xiao’s’ body became even more translucent, yet he seemed unaware. He stood up, walked to the shore, and scooped up a handful of seawater.
The fungal mats covering the seabed, the Mbius Mushroom’s kin, had prepared a perfect stage for multicellular life. And among those early lifeforms—one might become the ancestor of humanity.
Genes began to pass on, generation after generation.
But mushrooms never truly left the world’s stage. They merged with nature, growing beneath forests, beneath concrete streets, in every unnoticed corner.
Silently thriving.
Co-evolving with other species.
Ultimately, shaping the world humans know today.
In the end, his figure faded by the sea.
A lobe-finned fish wriggled onto land, at the very spot where ‘Tang Xiao’ had disappeared.
Perhaps it would become humanity’s ancestor. Perhaps not.
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