The first page of Lu Hua's notebook, titled "10," contained a strange four-line poem:
Before Octavian becomes Augustus,
He will completely illuminate the Southern Cross at fifty-five degrees.
The scorpion coming ashore meets Prometheus,
Heaven and earth shine brightly.
The three of them, Cotton, Sean, and Lancy, read the poem aloud several times. Then, lifting their heads, they looked expectantly at Lu Hua, hoping he could provide some interpretation. However, Lu Hua remained silent, his brows furrowed deeply, refusing to utter a single word.
Lancy couldn't help but ask, "Lu Hua, what exactly does this poem mean? I can't understand it at all."
Lu Hua sighed but remained silent.
Cotton spoke up, "Actually, while I don't fully grasp the poem's meaning, I can see the general idea—if I'm not mistaken, it's predicting a major fire, right?"
"A fire…" Lancy pondered for a moment. "You got that from the line 'The heavens and earth ablaze with light,' didn't you?"
"Not just that line; in fact, the last three lines all hint at a fire," Cotton analyzed. "First—'completely illuminating the Southern Cross at fifty-five degrees' already suggests a fire. And in the third line, 'Prometheus' is the god who stole heavenly fire, and 'the scorpion coming ashore' meeting Prometheus clearly implies 'ignition.' Of course, the last line, 'heaven and earth ablaze with light,' is a direct description of a fire scene."
Sean asked, "Then what does 'the Southern Cross at fifty-five degrees' mean? And what about 'the scorpion coming ashore'? Also, how should we interpret the first line, 'Before Octavian became Augustus'?"
Cotton rested his chin on his hand and said, "The first line is definitely like the previous poems—using a clever way to hint at the time of the event. We learned in history class that Roman consul Octavian was crowned Emperor of Rome on January 13th and was given the honorary title 'Augustus.' So—'before Octavian became Augustus' clearly refers to…"
"January 2010!" Lancy exclaimed in shock. "So soon? That's only six months from now!"
Cotton, deep in thought, added with a serious expression, "In my opinion, it's even more precise. If 'before Octavian became Augustus' refers to 'the night before,' then the exact date would be—January 12th, 2010!"
"Ah… A major fire on January 12, 2010?" Lancy said in astonishment. "So, where will it happen?"
"That's exactly what the second line reveals—'Illuminate the Southern Cross at fifty-five degrees completely!'"
Sean, puzzled, said, "'Southern Cross at fifty-five degrees'… This place sounds like it's in the sky."
"That doesn't necessarily mean it's in the sky; it could refer to a specific place on Earth," Cotton said. "From what I know, the Southern Cross can only be seen in certain regions during summer nights. It's not visible everywhere. Only a few countries and areas can observe the 'Southern Cross' constellation—and 'fifty-five degrees' might refer to a latitude or longitude. If we combine these two clues…"
Sean started to catch on. "So, the location of the fire would be somewhere where the latitude and longitude add up to fifty-five degrees, and where the Southern Cross is visible!"
Cotton nodded thoughtfully. "That's just my theory, though. I can't say for sure if that's the correct interpretation."
"Let's assume it is for now," Sean said. "Now, the last question—what does 'the scorpion coming ashore' mean?"
"I have no clue about this one," Cotton admitted, raising his head to ask Lu Hua, "Do you have any idea what 'the scorpion coming ashore' means?"
Lu Hua, who had been standing silently, shook his head. "Like you, I could interpret the other lines in the poem, but this 'scorpion coming ashore'—I can't figure it out."
"So, does your earlier interpretation match what we've just analyzed?" Cotton pressed.
Lu Hua said, "I think about sixty percent of your analysis is correct. But based on my understanding of this poetry collection—its author is certainly someone very meticulous, someone who pays great attention to the precision of every line—there's one area in your interpretation that is definitely wrong."
"Oh? Do tell," Cotton replied, not the least bit upset, but rather showing great interest.
"First, I must commend your accurate analysis of the first line. I believe your conclusion about the specific date of the event, 'January 12,' is absolutely correct. However, in your interpretation of the third line, there are some minor mistakes—which also affects your understanding of the second line significantly," Lu Hua continued.
Cotton widened his eyes, listening intently.
Lu Hua continued, "The main point is that I think your interpretation of 'Prometheus' is wrong. You believe that 'Prometheus' symbolizes 'fire,' but I don't see it that way."
"Then what do you think he represents?" Cotton asked.
"Prometheus, in Greek mythology, only stole and spread fire; he can't be considered a symbol of 'fire' itself. He can only be seen as the 'carrier of fire.' The real god of fire in Greek mythology is Hephaestus. I mentioned earlier that the lines in this poetry collection are highly precise—just think about it. If the author wanted to express the idea of 'fire,' why wouldn't the third line say, 'The scorpion ashore meets Hephaestus' instead?"
"Well, that makes sense," Cotton nodded. "So, how do you think the third line of the poem should be interpreted?"
Lu Hua pondered for a moment and said, "I believe 'Prometheus' refers to something that is carrying fire and is moving at high speed. It collides with the 'scorpion ashore,' and the resulting explosion will light up the sky above the Southern Cross at 55 degrees!"
"Hey, wait, wait!" Sean said, his mouth agape in astonishment. "Carrying fire, moving at high speed… and you think the collision didn't happen on the ground but in the sky—Lu Hua, your meaning is already so clear. Why don't you just say it? Do you think this poem is referring to a rocket crash?"
Lu Hua frowned and said, "Actually, like Cotton, I'm just speculating. I can't be completely sure. No matter what, none of us knows exactly what 'the scorpion ashore' refers to—so we can't be certain that our guesses are right."
At the side, nearly stunned, Lanc y dropped her hand from under her chin and asked, "Wait, Lu Hua, you're not entirely clear on the meaning of this poem? So you don't know what will happen on January 12, 2010?"
Lu Hua nodded.
Sean furrowed his brows, confused, and asked, "Then I don't understand. Since you're not sure about the meaning of this poem—why did you come into my house looking so tense, anxious, and worried from the moment you walked in?"
Lu Hua sighed as he saw the three of them looking at him intently, and said, "Actually, I never intended to explain the prophecy of this poem for 2010 in the first place. But when I heard Cotton's analysis, and noticed that some parts might be wrong, I couldn't help but share my thoughts. In fact—"
He glanced at Cotton, Sean, and Lancy one by one, his expression grave. "If you read the last poem in this collection, you'll realize that all the previous poems actually don't mean anything at all."