Volume One Mutation Chapter Three Meteor

In front of several people, Liu Cong and Gu Yan officially confirmed their relationship. This brave girl had finally pursued and found her own happiness, while on the other side, Hu Ke and Chen Ru were a little crestfallen—after all, they had just befriended a high-quality single, only for her to be swept away in the blink of an eye.

After the dinner, the group parted ways: Jiang Hao took Jiang Xiaowei and the others to continue their outing, while Liu Cong and Gu Yan chose to take a walk together.

A summer evening is the perfect time to enjoy the cool air. The gentle, refreshing breeze seemed to carry away the last traces of lingering heat, and the number of pedestrians visibly increased on the street.

Gu Yan walked arm in arm with Liu Cong, strolling along the road, ignoring the many glances cast their way. She looked at Liu Cong and spoke softly, “Liu Cong, you don’t blame me, do you?” As she spoke, she lowered her head shyly, her gaze searching back and forth on the ground.

Confessing to Liu Cong in front of his closest friends today had, in a way, a hint of cornering him, but she refused to back down. Others only saw her bold declaration of love today, but had no idea what she had gone through.

Gu Yan and Liu Cong had first met during military training. At that time, Liu Cong wore camouflage fatigues, his spirit bright and dazzling, paired with a calm indifference to the world, making him look just like an aristocratic youth from a comic book. What girl wouldn’t fancy someone like that?

From that day forward, Gu Yan deliberately sought to get closer to Liu Cong. As someone who loved to draw, she had secretly sketched countless portraits of him. Yet Liu Cong always kept his distance; at first, he’d even coldly brushed off her attempts to approach. Anyone else would have felt too embarrassed to persist, and Gu Yan was not thick-skinned by nature. If Liu Cong had rejected her again this time, she would never have had the courage to approach him again.

Liu Cong said nothing. Instead, he pulled her into his arms even more tightly. The two stood in the middle of the bustling street, embracing each other closely.

Feeling the dampness on his shoulder, Liu Cong loosened his hold and looked at her in confusion. The girl didn’t say a word, only smiled at him—smiling as tears brimmed in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. They embraced once more, tightly. “Gu Yan.”

“Call me Ayan, as in ‘words’.”

“Alright, Ayan. Wasn’t today your art club’s dinner?”

“Ah, was it?” Gu Yan smiled, her eyes crinkling. “You must be remembering wrong.”

They walked a little longer in the summer night breeze, until Gu Yan’s phone suddenly rang. Glancing at the caller ID, her face fell. “It’s my mom. She’s definitely calling to hurry me home again.”

“I’ll take you back, then, so Auntie won’t worry.” Liu Cong found Gu Yan’s reluctant expression amusing and added, “It’s not as if we won’t see each other again. The summer holiday is so long—surely we’ll have plenty of time together.”

“My mom’s taking me to visit my grandparents in Sichuan over the break. We leave tomorrow, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Gu Yan still looked downcast, her little face drawn in a pout.

Liu Cong comforted her for a bit longer, and then the two decided to head back the way they came. Liu Cong drove Gu Yan home.

When they arrived, the two lingered reluctantly for a while before Gu Yan finally tore herself away, looking back at him every few steps as she made her way to her building. Only after her figure vanished did Liu Cong prepare to drive home. On the way, he switched on the car radio.

“According to predictions from our country’s astronomers, at about 12:30 a.m. on July 15th, a meteor will streak across the sky above our city. Experts say this meteor is quite small and will likely burn up entirely before exiting the earth’s atmosphere. Dear listeners, why not take your family or your loved one and, as the meteor passes, make a wish for something wonderful?”

“July 15th... Dad, is this you coming back to see me?” July 15th was the anniversary of Liu Cong’s father’s death—tomorrow. Like so many well-meaning lies told by elders, Liu Cong’s father, Liu Zheng, had once said the same thing to him.

“Dad, what are those twinkling things in the sky?”

“They’re stars.”

“What are stars?”

“Stars are people too. Grandma and grandpa are both stars in the sky. See how they twinkle? That’s them winking at you; they’re all watching over you. One day, I too will become a star. When you grow up, you’ll understand.”

Liu Cong pressed his lips together, saying nothing, and turned the car around.

In the boundless universe, there was silence everywhere. Within a stretch of emptiness, a peculiar meteor darted through space, haloed by intertwining black and white lights. The black and white swirled together, creating a mysterious aura that could unsettle the heart. Against the backdrop of the universe’s darkness, it appeared simply as a white streak of light unless one looked closely.

No one knew the meteor’s original form. Its interlaced black and white glow radiated a sense of profound mystery.

Baoshan was a scenic spot in Hangzhou. Liu Cong was sitting atop one of its peaks, gazing out at the canal where his father had been killed.

In the past, whenever Liu Cong came here, he’d be overwhelmed with loneliness. But not this time; Gu Yan’s every smile and gesture echoed in his mind, leaving his heart less empty.

“Dad, what am I supposed to do?”

The night wind gradually picked up, rustling the branches and leaves, which filled the air with a soft susurrus, further disturbing Liu Cong’s thoughts.

In a haze, Liu Cong looked up. Thanks to the late hour and sparse city lights, a few stars could still be faintly seen. And then, he finally glimpsed the meteor.

Within the earth’s atmosphere, a strange meteor sliced through the night sky. Astonishingly, after plunging into the atmosphere, it did not burn up from friction as expected, but instead flew onward, exuding a peculiar repulsive force that pushed aside the surrounding air.

Due to its own magical black-and-white intertwined light, it left a long white trail in its wake. Those fortunate enough to witness this meteor didn’t find it odd—only that it was astoundingly beautiful.

Liu Cong gazed up at the sky. The night was cloudless, and a few stars shimmered faintly. But what stood out most was the meteor, dragging its long white tail as it slashed through the darkness.

Such a wondrous sight would make anyone marvel at the mysteries of nature.

As Liu Cong was contemplating the vastness of the cosmos and humanity’s insignificance, a suspicion arose—why hadn’t the meteor burned up?

Everyone watching the meteor began to wonder too, for not only did it not shrink or flash by, it grew brighter and more dazzling by the second. Then, all eyes widened in disbelief as something unimaginable happened.

From Liu Cong’s perspective, the meteor, which had been streaking through the high sky, suddenly made a right-angle turn, as if a bullet in slow motion under the gaze of millions had abruptly changed direction. At such speeds, nothing known to humanity could make such a sharp maneuver without external force.

Was this truly a meteor?

Liu Cong hardly had time to marvel. Before he knew it, the bizarre meteor, after turning in midair, was heading directly for the very peak where he stood, accelerating like a bolt of lightning coming straight for him!

Even before it arrived, an overwhelming pressure slammed into him, pinning him to the ground. Within a radius of hundreds, even thousands of meters, it was as if a hurricane had swept through, chaos erupting everywhere.

In that moment, Liu Cong felt utter despair. He struggled to open his eyes against the wind, seeing the strange, black-and-white glowing object racing toward him.

Maybe I’ll be burned to nothing, he thought. At least there won’t be a wretched corpse left behind. Liu Cong closed his eyes, waiting for death—yet his heart was strangely calm.

A faint “hiss!” sounded. The crushing pressure vanished instantly, and the anticipated end did not come.

Liu Cong opened his eyes to find, just a meter to his left, a source of light on the ground. A single glance confirmed it had fallen from the sky. The crisscrossing threads of light around it were so brilliant that the object already defied scientific explanation.

When Liu Cong tried to stand, he realized his whole body was drenched, his limbs as weak as if he’d run for ten days and nights. He gave a wry smile—this fright had been no small matter.

He rested for a while, then straightened up and made a careful circuit around the mysterious light, finally daring to look back from a flatter spot.

The strange light hadn’t shattered the mountain like a meteorite impact would. Instead, it hadn’t damaged the land at all; the only thing left in its wake was the sweeping wind that had cleaned the area so thoroughly not a single leaf remained.

The luminous object stood there, its interwoven black and white glow flowing like something tangible, shrouding whatever was within so densely that nothing could be seen—strange and mysterious. Only after some time did the brilliance gradually fade.

It would be a lie to say Liu Cong wasn’t curious. The thing hadn’t killed him as he’d expected; it simply stood there quietly. That alone suggested its danger was much reduced, so he didn’t leave.

Before long, the light diminished, and the mysterious visitor from beyond revealed itself—a sword! This sword from the heavens resembled the invincible blades of ancient legend, its tip embedded in the rock at his feet. The entrance was perfectly clean, with not a fragment out of place.

The entire sword was black and white: the left side of the blade a pure snowy white, the right a deep, inky black. Even the hilt was split this way, save for a single mysterious golden symbol at its center. Now that the sword’s original, awe-inspiring glow had faded, it seemed all the more extraordinary—at least, so Liu Cong felt.

After waiting a little longer and seeing no further movement, Liu Cong plucked up his courage and approached. Still, nothing happened. Summoning his nerve, he gripped the hilt.

It felt like holding a piece of warm jade, radiating gentle heat.

Liu Cong tried to pull it out, but discovered that even with all his strength, he couldn’t budge it. The part of the blade embedded in the rock fit so seamlessly it was as if it had grown there, with no sign of separation.

How was he supposed to draw it? Liu Cong wracked his brains. Was this going to be like in those novels, where one had to offer a drop of blood to claim a sword?

He looked at the black-and-white blade, unable to resist running his fingers along it—not the razor-sharp cutting edges, but the colored side of the blade.