Chapter 18: Not Five... Six
Wen Qinghe studied Zhiyi’s face. He didn’t know if this was how she was normally, or if she was trying to put on some kind of act just to get Hanchuan’s attention.
The problem was that, either way, she had it, and Qinghe didn’t know what to do with that information.
"I can think of several explanations more probable than rebirth," he said after a moment. "Sleep deprivation, an acute psychological episode and shared delusion would all need to be excluded."
"We didn’t know each other ten years ago," Hanchuan pointed out.
"You met yesterday," sighed Qinghe, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No," corrected Hanchuan. "I found her yesterday."
Something in the phrasing caused Qinghe to pause.
Hanchuan had corrected the others several times whenever they treated yesterday as the beginning of his relationship with Zhiyi.
Meeting suggested that she’d been a stranger.
Finding meant she’d already belonged somewhere and had only been temporarily lost.
"How long were you together?" Shichen asked.
"Seven years."
The answer changed the way the men looked at them.
Zeyu sat back against the sofa. "You expect us to believe that you spent seven years with someone none of us has ever met, then returned to yesterday and found her within hours?"
"Yes."
"And she remembers the same seven years?"
"Yes," Zhiyi replied, resting her head on Hanchuan’s shoulder. The position was physically uncomfortable for her, but she didn’t know why it was also comforting at the same time.
Qinghe’s attention moved between them. "How did you meet?"
"She found me near the end of the first heat," Hanchuan murmured, adjusting his body so that Zhiyi could get even more comfortable.
"We required different resources," Zhiyi added. "Hanchuan had shelter. I had food. Combining them increased the survival probability for both of us."
"That explains the first day," Zeyu pointed out. "Not seven years."
"The arrangement remained effective," Zhiyi shrugged. She grabbed Hanchuan’s shirt like she had that day when they laid on the floor, waiting for their last breaths. Her fist tightened just for an instant as she remembered the burning in her lungs, then it relaxed.
But she never let him go.
A small movement passed through Hanchuan’s chest behind her. Zhiyi couldn’t determine whether it had been a breath or an attempt not to laugh.
Shichen noticed and his eyes narrowed slightly.
Qinghe rose and crossed to the opaque windows. He stood there for several seconds despite being unable to see the city.
"If I accept your account as true, the rational response is immediate preparation," he muttered under his breath. He wasn’t speaking loud, but everyone in the room could easily hear him. "If I reject it and you’re right, we die. If I accept it and you’re wrong, we lose money and several weeks of work."
"Money can be replaced," Hanchuan chuckled, reaching up to stroke Zhiyi’s hair.
"Time can’t," Shichen replied.
Jingwei had remained near the door since securing it. "How many other people know?"
"No one," Hanchuan said.
"You haven’t warned your employees?"
"No."
Jingwei looked at Zhiyi. "Your family or anyone at your university?"
"No."
"Has either of you discussed the apocalypse anywhere that might have been recorded?"
"No," Hanchuan answered. "Everything said yesterday occurred in this office after I disabled the internal systems."
Jingwei accepted the answer without questioning whether their families should be warned. He had asked how many people possessed the information because information created risk. The personal consequences didn’t change the number.
Qinghe returned from the window. "I want both of you examined."
"No," Hanchuan said.
"That wasn’t a request."
"That doesn’t change the answer."
Qinghe’s gaze hardened. "If this is a shared psychological event, reinforcing it could cause both of you significant harm."
"The heat begins in twenty-six days whether you believe us or not."
"And if it doesn’t?"
"You can commit me on the twenty-seventh."
Qinghe looked at Zhiyi. "And you?"
Zhiyi considered the specific question.
"If the temperature doesn’t rise and the electrical grid remains functional, the probability that our memories represent objective events will decrease substantially. Psychological examination would then be an appropriate response."
Hanchuan’s hand tightened slightly around her waist.
Zhiyi looked back at him. "Qinghe’s conclusion would be correct under those conditions."
"The conditions won’t occur."
"I know."
Qinghe watched the exchange without appearing reassured.
Shichen reached for Zhiyi’s notebook but stopped before touching it. "May I?" he asked, looking up at her.
Zhiyi nodded.
He opened it at the ruler and read through the calculations she’d completed overnight. The others gradually moved closer. Qinghe returned to the sofa. Jingwei left his position beside the door and stood behind Shichen, looking over his shoulder.
The room shifted from examining Zhiyi and Hanchuan to examining the information they had brought with them.
Shichen turned back several pages. He spent long enough on the calculations to verify more than the headings.
"These estimates were originally based on five people."
"I corrected the number this morning."
"The list contains five names."
"I omitted myself."
His eyes lifted. "Why?"
"I needed to define the core unit before calculating supplies. Hanchuan and the four of you existed as a unit before the apocalypse."
"And you don’t?"
Zhiyi looked at the list.
She had known Hanchuan after the group had already been broken apart. There had been nothing for her to enter and no existing place she could take. There had only been two people who survived better after combining their resources.
Now all four men were here, and both she and Hanchuan were determined to keep them alive.
"I became part of Hanchuan’s core unit later," she said. "I haven’t determined whether the two structures can be combined without changing them."
"They can," Hanchuan interjected with a hiss of rage. He took the notebook from Shichen, removed the pen clipped to its cover, opened to the first page and wrote beneath Qinghe’s name.
Qiao Zhiyi
His handwriting occupied more space than hers. The letters didn’t align with the numbered column she’d created.
Zhiyi looked at the sixth line.
"You altered the margin."
"You left yourself out," he said, his eyes and very body turning cold at the very idea that she didn’t consider herself at all in all this.
"That didn’t require altering the margin."
Hanchuan returned the notebook to her. "Fix the margin later."
The instruction granted the unfinished problem a defined future point.
Zhiyi closed the notebook, nodding her head. "All right."
Around them, the four men looked at the revised list.
Qinghe still looked at Hanchuan as though placing Zhiyi’s name on a page didn’t grant him the right to control everything she did.
Shichen’s attention remained on the calculations, weighing the evidence rather than accepting it.
Jingwei watched the locked door and the people inside it with equal vigilance.
Zeyu picked up his energy drink, reconsidered, then moved it farther from the table.
Hanchuan’s hand returned to Zhiyi’s waist and her head returned to his shoulder.
The core unit now contained six names.