The exhibition hall was as silent as a tomb, the only sound the soft crackle of the fla.
Jin Xueli’s nerves were stretched taut like strings. Every soft crackle from the fla was a finger plucking at them.
She finished reading the lengthy introduction for the Illusion, "Candle Tears." She stood in place for a long while, trying to digest it all.
She circled the underground exhibition hall again to make sure another attack wouldn’t leap from the corners and shadows. Being attacked by herself once had been distressing enough.
She quickened her pace as she passed the body, but then stopped abruptly and turned back.
The corpse of her dead self filled Jin Xueli with a sense of profound unease.
She didn’t want to see it, and she certainly didn’t want it to see her. She simply covered its face with a towel, obscuring that gaze of self-accusation and scrutiny, before returning to the candle.
Roasting such a massive candle with a tiny fla would naturally take so ti.
By the ti she had completed her lap, the candle had finally lted enough to proceed. The section representing early May 2026 began to soften and sag from the bottom, sinking heavily toward the ground like a ten-month pregnant belly—only this "belly" was slowly turning translucent, its insides filled with dark, shifting shadows, as if pregnant with ghosts.
Jin Xueli hurried over and bent down to examine the world of the past revealed within the molten wax.
The first thing she saw was herself.
According to the Illusion’s introduction, because she was the one who had touched the candle, what appeared in the wax was primarily her own personal history. The qualifier "primarily" was used because no one could survive in a vacuum, isolated from the world around them. Therefore, major events in her environnt that had influenced her would also manifest within the wax.
The introduction’s original text read as follows:
"...In today’s highly integrated world, historical turning points of critical influence are often caused by a select few. The popular movents that occasionally succeeded in the past are now nearly impossible to replicate.
"The decisions of a few oligarchs can influence and alter the fate of all humankind. By the sa token, when focused on an individual’s history, the candle will faithfully present the key figures and events that influenced and reshaped the environnt around that person."
The passage had seed a bit obscure at first, but after watching the history unfold in the wax for a while, Jin Xueli understood.
For instance, why had she encountered the stalker Anthony in early May?
The most direct cause was a female friend inviting her to a bar that night.
Amber wasn’t a Hunter and had no Path, but she worked in finance for the Morgan Family Faction. She and Jin Xueli had crossed paths a few tis and gotten along quite well. It was on that very night that Jin Xueli t the outwardly impressive Anthony at the bar.
But thinking deeper, why did Jin Xueli, who detested the sll of alcohol, agree to go to a bar with Amber that day?
Because at the end of April, a regional war that had dragged on for years, leaving the entire world exhausted and plagued by inflation, had finally, after countless bloodshed, co to a farcical end.
Although the outco of the war satisfied no self-proclaid champion of justice—regardless of which side they supported—the entire world breathed a collective sigh of relief after years of repeated, numbing tragedies. On the day the war’s end was announced, celebratory parades and spontaneous festivities were abundant, and even news anchors sounded a little more cheerful.
Illusion Hunters had one foot in the Nests and the other in the Human World, their mindsets always a few steps removed from ordinary life. Jin Xueli was no exception.
But even she had felt as if she were basking in the sun those days, her mood as bright and full as the coming sumr. When Amber suggested they go out for celebratory drinks, Xueli figured she could just have juice and agreed imdiately.
If the war hadn’t ended, Amber would never have invited her to celebrate. If she hadn’t gone to the bar, she would never have t Anthony. If he hadn’t beco her stalker, Jin Xueli would never have entered the Nest, would never have been stabbed in the throat, would not be standing beside her own corpse, and would certainly never have found this gigantic candle.
When traced back to its source, everything she was enduring today was because of so bald old man thousands of miles away who had started a war... So how could the people and events that were closer to her, that had influenced her, not be encapsulated within the wax?
"You will find that when you reshape the contents of Candle Tears, the greater the physical distance between you and the target person, the more difficult it is to alter their past."
The introduction for "Candle Tears" continued with the following passage:
"It is very simple to change the past of a person standing next to you. By reaching into Candle Tears to stir its contents, or by molding the wax itself, you can alter their position, experiences, and actions, thus naturally changing the past.
"As for soone half a city away, while you can still effect change, you will find that the part of Candle Tears enveloping them is sowhat stiff and unyielding. It’s difficult to alter fine details; at best, you can only change a rough outline. How much of a difference this will ultimately make is even harder to say.
"And what if it’s soone on the other side of the planet? Regrettably, even if such a person appears in your candle, you will be unable to have any effect on their past experiences."
’That doesn’t matter,’ Jin Xueli thought as she watched the still-blurry scene in the wax. ’The one I want to change is about to walk out that back door and stand right beside .’
The wax transford into a transparent, tear-like liquid, halting just before it could drip onto the floor. It hung there like a shimring pool suspended in midair. She touched it lightly and found it wasn’t hot.
Reflected in this pool was the night of Blackmoor City, seared by the glow of countless lights. Leaning closer, Jin Xueli could even sll the bar’s unique mixture of alcohol, tobacco, and perfu.
Within the pool ford by the molten wax, the high-rises, bars, shops, and streets looked like miniature models. A finger-sized version of herself stood at the bar’s back door, gazing up at Blackmoor City’s starless night sky.
’This is it.’
There was no need to stir the wax to find the right mont; she just had to wait. In this respect, operating Candle Tears was like using a video player’s tiline. You could drag it forward and back or let it play out naturally.
She rembered that before eting Anthony, a convoy of several black rcedes SUVs had driven past. Even their windows were bulletproofed, which had drawn her gaze for a few monts. Not long after the convoy passed, the bar’s dark red back door would—
’Here it cos.’
The mont the bar’s small back door was pushed open a crack, Jin Xueli imdiately stuck her pinky finger into the molten wax, pressing its tip firmly against the door.
Her pinky, her smallest finger, was nearly as large as the bar door. It looked truly bizarre pressed up against it.
Through the door, the force of Anthony’s repeated pushes felt like a small insect kicking against the pad of her finger. How could a person so tiny inside the molten wax possibly push aside her enormous fingertip?
She leaned closer to the wax and faintly heard a curse from behind the door, carried over the clamor of the music: "...This stupid door, what the hell?"
The tiny Jin Xueli, getting so fresh air outside the back door, was completely oblivious to the gigantic finger stretching across the space beside her.
Hearing the cursing from behind the door, she rely glanced back before taking a couple of steps away. A proper citizen of Blackmoor City was always sowhat wary and aloof toward strangers, especially one who was cursing up a storm.
The future-stalker behind the door pushed desperately a few more tis before finally giving up. He seed to turn and walk away, and silence returned from behind the door.
’This should do it, right?’ Jin Xueli thought, not daring to pull her hand back just yet. She kept it pressed against the door.
’If we never t in the first place, then none of the rest would have happened.’
After witnessing her "own" death, the furious resentnt she’d felt for Anthony had been steeped in a bone-deep chill, dulling its intensity. Her first priority now was simply to experint with the candle; revenge could wait.
The Illusion’s introductory material had provided a detailed explanation of how changing history would affect the "present":
"...After the point of change, history will continue to develop naturally along its own inherent trajectory, and a person’s ’present’ will change accordingly.
"There is a ti-travel paradox that questions whether one can go back in ti to kill one’s own grandfather. If the grandfather dies, one would cease to exist, which ans no one would have been able to go back to kill the grandfather in the first place... Thus, a paradox is ford."
When it ca to traversing ti and changing the past, it seed there was always a lot to explain, whether in movies, novels, or the Illusions from the Nests.
" ’Candle Tears’ does not fall into such a paradox. The candle represents a fixed tiline, starting from the birth of the person who touches it and ending at the very mont of contact. Therefore, you cannot change the past that occurred before your own birth.
"However, changing history through ’Candle Tears’ will still affect the present. For example, say you lt the portion of the candle from one month ago and crush the version of yourself within it. The instant you do, you will also vanish from in front of the candle, and it will return to its original state.
"This is an extre case. If you cause yourself to break a leg one month ago, then one month later, you certainly won’t et a potential client while skiing, right? As stated before, history will always advance according to its own internal logic, producing its natural consequences."
In other words, if she stopped herself from eting Anthony that night, Jin Xueli would vanish from beside the candle. Without a stalker, she would have lost her motivation for entering the Nest, and if she never entered the Nest, she naturally wouldn’t be here now.
"However, to ensure the continuity of the tiline, the mory of using ’Candle Tears’ and changing history will be fully preserved. You will not lose this part of your mory because you altered history."
In other words... if Jin Xueli prevented herself from eting Anthony, she wouldn’t be in the Nest today. However, she would still rember eting Anthony in the "previous version of history," entering the Nest, and changing that history.
’Preserving the user’s mories ensures the tiline’s continuity? Why?’
Jin Xueli thought about it for a mont but found no answer and had to let it go. Being able to keep her mories was a huge plus. So good things didn’t stand up to scrutiny, so she decided she should just accept it.
’Keeping my mories ans I can co back and find "Candle Tears" again. Compared to such a precious Illusion, what do so disgusting mories of Anthony even matter?’
In the molten wax, the tiny Jin Xueli stomped her foot, turned, and seed ready to head back into the bar.
Jin Xueli moved her pinky away. She watched as her tiny self pulled the door open and disappeared into the flashing lights and music beyond.
’Good. It’s all done. I can turn off the fire trough and let the candle solidify again.’
Only once the wax re-solidified would it set into a new tiline, a new history.
The transparent pool of molten wax suspended in the air slowly turned white and cloudy. It rose bit by bit, reabsorbed into the body of the candle until the surface was once again smooth and flawless—looking as if it had never lted at all.
Jin Xueli took one last look at the towel-covered corpse nearby, closed her eyes, and quietly waited for the new, altered "present mont" to arrive.
After a mont, she opened her eyes.
She had not returned to Blackmoor City. She was still in the Nest.
The pool of blood beneath the towel-covered corpse was nearly dry and purplish-black. The candle stretched out long, and the exhibition hall was deathly silent.
The entire series of mories—being stalked and harassed by Anthony, entering the Nest, being duplicated by one of its inhabitants, lting the candle...—it was all crystal clear in her mind. Just as the introduction to "Candle Tears" had promised, nothing had disappeared.
Only one thing was different.
The place where she t Anthony had changed from the bar’s back door to its front door.
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