The aftermath of the encounter in the Old Imperial Library left Li Zhanxan in a state of trance-like agitation.

Barely hours had passed since the tremors of that meeting, yet the suffocating weight of duty already demanded his presence at another dinner with Lin's family.

"Zhanxan, you haven't touched your wine," his mother remarked, her voice cutting through his thoughts like a silk thread.

"Lin's family is currently discussing the floral gifts for the guests – what should they be? Perhaps red roses, which signify honor, love, and prosperity?"

Zhanxan looked at her, and for a fleeting second, he didn't see his mother in her designer dress.

He saw a shadow from a long-forgotten imperial court; a lonely, cold woman standing beside an Emperor, moving pieces on a chessboard with no regard for the hearts they crushed.

"Red roses fade too quickly," he said, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. "They look like blood when they fall onto the snow."

The table went silent. His fiancée, Lin, tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. "What a strange thing to say, Zhanxan. It’s nearly summer. There is no snow."

"Of course," he replied, forcing a thin, robotic smile. "I was merely thinking of a poem I read recently. Please, excuse my distraction. You've been talking a lot about flowers lately."

***

Across the city, Hei Yanshan was sitting on the fire escape of his dormitory, his legs dangling over the edge as he watched again the neon veins of the city pulse below. His heart hadn't slowed down since he fled the library.

He felt like a man who had seen a sun go supernova and was now trying to pretend that the world was still dark.

"It couldn't have been him," he whispered into the humid night air. "It was just the light. Just the dust. Just my mind playing tricks because of those damn dreams."

But even as he said the words, his skin tingled with the memory of that gaze. When their eyes had met, it wasn't like looking at a stranger.

It was like a sudden, violent homecoming. It was the feeling of a missing limb suddenly being restored, a phantom pain finally finding its source. The man in the suit had looked at him with such raw, agonizing recognition that Yanshan had felt his own soul vibrate in response.

He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in his arms. He had no way to find that man again. He didn't even know his name. All he had was the memory of a silhouette and the crushing realization that without that stranger, the world felt infinitely more empty than it had been an hour ago.

***

In the Heavenly Realm...

The Department of Transmigration was unusually quiet, the air thick with the scent of ozone and cooling jade.

Official Wang was huddled under his desk, clutching a golden scroll as if it were a shield.

"The Department Head didn't see us, right?" he whispered, his eyes darting around the shadows of the office.

Junior Official Chen sat in his chair, staring blankly at the master console.

The red line representing the Red Thread was no longer just glowing; it was pulsating with a rhythmic, heartbeat-like cadence.

"He didn't see us," Chen replied softly. "But the system is bleeding, Wang. Look at the data. By forcing that visual contact in the library, you’ve put a massive strain on the 'Never Know Each Other' mandate. The paradox is trying to compensate by making their lives even more miserable.

It’s trying to push them into separate corners of the world."

Wang crawled out from under the desk, adjusting his celestial cap. "Then we just have to push back harder. They’ve seen each other's faces now. The seed of doubt is planted. Now, all we need is a reason for them to speak."

"A reason?" Chen scoffed. "Every time they try to speak, the network crashes or a bookshelf falls. The universe is literally conspiring to keep them silent."

"Then we won't use words," Wang said, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "We'll use art. We'll use the one thing the paradox can't easily censor because it doesn't have a fixed meaning. We're going to give Zhanxan a reason to go back to the ruins."

***

Author's Note:

If LZ's family tree looks like a tangled ball of yarn right now, don't panic! (I did drop a one-sentence hint a while back).

Basically, his current parents are the toxic Emperor and Empress from his past life. Talk about karmic baggage!

It’s that classic "you executed me back then, so now you owe me a wealthy upbringing" trope, except the Emperor still sucks, so LZ is suffering.

Let's face it, our former Emperor is definitely not father-of-the-year material.

Meanwhile, LZ’s wholesome original parents got lucky, escaped the loop, and are out there living their best, carefree lives elsewhere.

They are officially out of the "system"!