The conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt as an unseen force surged from within.
Li Zhiyuan instinctively wanted to resist this force, but as soon as he touched it, he gave up, letting himself be tossed like a leaf on a turbulent wave.
The scene before him overlapped, and another layer of imagery emerged in his vision.
On one side, reality remained unchanged; on the other, events quickly rewound, and shadows shifted.
First, they retreated backward, descending the stairs, moving back to the entrance, crossing backward over the white dog, and finally returning with Zhao Yi to the iron track outside the guesthouse.
Then, the previously rewound view fast-forwarded again, the two entered the guesthouse, greeted the security guard inside, exchanged glances with people coming and going, nodded at acquaintances at the building entrance, and finally returned to the room's door, restoring normalcy.
Everything seemed unchanged, but the wrinkles had been smoothed.
