附近人100块钱上门

“Look, a shooting star! The sky’s filled with them!” shouted one child.

“Wow! This meteor shower is even cooler than the ones in cartoons!” another added enthusiastically.

“One, two, three… there are too many to count! There must be over a hundred!” a little girl exclaimed.

“These shooting stars are awesome! They don’t look anything like what our teacher described… they’re like a giant comb!” a boy noted.

Flash West University, Playground

Students on the track and grass stopped their activities, mesmerized by the breathtaking meteor shower above.

“Where did all these shooting stars come from?” one student wondered aloud.

“Was there a meteor shower predicted today? I don’t think I heard anything about it… and something this big would have been in the news!” another responded.

“Are these even real shooting stars? They’re too large, last too long, and move too slow…” a third student observed.

“They look way too close, and the angle is all wrong. What’s going on?” another puzzled student asked.

Videos of the meteor shower quickly went viral on social media. Residents of Zion buzzed with excitement, but those in other regions were baffled, comparing the stunning display on their screens to their own clear night skies.

“Why can’t we see the meteor shower? Aren’t they supposed to be visible across the northern hemisphere?” someone posted online.

“Nothing here either! Is Zion using special effects or something?” another person speculated.

“This is weird! Is the meteor shower only over Flash West? Did some millionaire set this up?” someone else guessed.

“Meteor showers aren’t something you just create, right? What’s happening? Is there an official statement?” another person questioned.

Meanwhile, in the sky south of Zion, 4000 meters up

Several Big Bear 100 planes flew in formation. In the lead plane, Lin Xian sat in the cockpit, listening to the radio.

“All wingsuit pilots have exited the plane. All planes, proceed with return protocols.”

Lin Xian exhaled deeply, turning to look out the cockpit window. He watched the “shooting stars” glide toward their targets. The plan had worked flawlessly. He smiled as he saw the sparks on the wingsuit pilots’ suits flicker out and vanish into the night. This man-made meteor shower was more stunning than any natural one.

Half a month earlier, after leaving Liu Feng’s house, Lin Xian had begun planning this meteor shower. Li Qi Qi’s lifelong dream was to witness a meteor shower, hoping to make a wish for Liu Feng’s theory on the universal constant to gain global recognition. Liu Feng’s deepest wish was for Li Qi Qi to experience a meteor shower by year’s end. He didn’t know she wanted to make a wish, but he felt the same regret and longing.

Lin Xian and Li Qi Qi shared a goal: to motivate Liu Feng to resume his work on the universal constant. They were the only two who truly believed in its accuracy. Lin Xian, haunted by the Genius Club’s murders in the future, knew the significance of the universal constant, number 42. Driven by love, Li Qi Qi believed in the beauty and correctness of such a formula.

To rebuild Liu Feng’s confidence, this meteor shower was essential. Lin Xian, a former city parkour champion, was familiar with extreme sports. He recalled Red Bull’s sponsored wingsuit events, including one that simulated a meteor shower, where athletes glided with fireworks, mimicking shooting stars.

The concept was straightforward. The challenges were securing permissions, coordinating with authorities, and recruiting willing athletes. Fortunately, Lin Xian’s sponsorship appeal drew many thrill-seekers. With substantial funding, gaining official approval was simpler, especially since Zion was aiming to establish a premier extreme sports hub, making Lin Xian’s event a perfect inaugural spectacle.

As the Big Bear 100 planes began their descent, Lin Xian checked his phone. His bank balance had plunged by nearly 30 million, reducing it to 70 million. But the expense was justified. With his Rhine Cat brand and its popular moisturizing cream, he’d recover the costs in months. Liu Feng, author of the “Theory of Universal Constants” and one of the few who approached the truth of 42, was worth every cent.

“Here’s hoping Liu Feng finds his way back soon,” Lin Xian mused, locking his phone. He took one last look at Zion’s outskirts, where Liu Feng and Li Qi Qi were surely marveling at the meteor display. Li Qi Qi’s regret was likely softened. If Liu Feng revisited his ancient book, the message on the little card would change.

But…

“When did Li Qi Qi write that card?” Lin Xian wondered.

In the sky, the last spark on a wingsuit pilot went out. He deployed his parachute, descending gently as calm returned to the night.

In a small courtyard on the outskirts

Liu Feng peered southward, having realized the truth about the meteor shower. If he looked closely, he could spot the planes’ flight formations and navigation lights.

Creak—

The door opened behind him, and Li Qi Qi appeared in her wheelchair. Liu Feng rushed to assist, pulling the door wider.

“What’s the surprise? You’ve been so secretive…” Liu Feng asked.

Li Qi Qi smiled at the now peaceful sky and pulled a beautifully bound book from under her blanket. She handed it to Liu Feng, her hands trembling as if it took all her strength.

“This is…” Liu Feng gasped, seeing the gold-embossed title: “Theory of Universal Constants” by Liu Feng.

How was this possible? He had never approached any publishers because his theories were considered incorrect—no one would dare publish them.

He opened the book to find his photo and a brief biography on the title page: “Liu Feng, born in 1996, entered Shanxi University’s Mathematics Department in 2014. Graduated with a master’s in 2021, focusing on universal constants, culminating in this book.”

Yet, the publishing page was blank. No publisher, no pricing…

“Hehe, I had it printed through Taobao,” Li Qi Qi confessed, sticking out her tongue playfully, her breath weak, her eyes half-closed as she looked up at Liu Feng.

“Right now, no one wants to publish it, no one believes in it, and this is the only copy in the world…”

“But I believe that one day… this book will be translated into many languages, found in every bookstore alongside works like ‘Relativity,’ ‘A Brief History of Time,’ and ‘From One to Infinity.\'”

“I believe it will,” Li Qi Qi forced a smile, leaning back in her wheelchair, looking at Liu Feng with blurry eyes.

“Because I… made a wish…” Li Qi Qi whispered faintly.

Liu Feng’s hands trembled as he turned to the last page. A small card was tucked there, its black ink still fresh, obviously written by Li Qi Qi just moments before.

Reading it, Liu Feng’s tears flowed freely. He quickly placed the card back, afraid his tears would smudge the fading ink.

“Feng… I’m so cold…” Li Qi Qi whispered faintly.

Liu Feng moved to push her back inside, but as he wrapped her icy hands under the blanket, he realized something.

“Feng… hold me…” she murmured.

Kneeling beside the wheelchair, Liu Feng hugged the frail, weightless Li Qi Qi tightly.

“So beautiful…” Li Qi Qi murmured, gazing up at the sky, her eyes losing focus.

She seemed to envision the meteor shower from moments ago, and rows of “Theory of Universal Constants” displayed in bookstores, its neat, elegant formulas lining the shelves.

“So beautiful…” With a serene smile, Li Qi Qi slowly closed her eyes.