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Chapter 693 - 690: "Linking Fingers with You.

Chapter 693: Chapter 690: "Linking Fingers with You.

Lanterns by the thousands, light flooding the skies.

They were hung outside each and every household, as if paving a path home for soldiers at the front.

In an age controlled by deities, air pollution was severe, and people often couldn’t see the stars. Following the onset of the Dawn War in the 32nd year of the Catastrophe, billions of soldiers and civilians perished. Most died in widespread bombings, their Source not penetrating the bodies of the enemy but instead ascending to the skies.

To soothe the living, people learned to make fireworks and floating lanterns, telling their children that those who had died had merely ascended to the heavens to become stars watching over everyone.

"...That’s why, to harbor our yearnings, people handcraft floating lanterns during the Fuyuan Festival, inscribe them with messages they wish to send, and release them into the sky to reach their loved ones who’ve become stars," Yuanyuan said.

Yuanyuan sat by the bed, sharing these customs of the Ruined World with Su Ming’an. Those who had been by his bedside had been sent away by Su Ming’an, on the grounds that the war wasn’t over and there was still much work to do.

In the pristine white hospital room, only her voice flowed, occasionally mingled with the scent of rice and the sweetness of pastries wafting through the window.

"Despite the sixteen years I’ve lived through in Caius Tower, I never knew of this custom," Su Ming’an said as he lay in bed, his body temperature gradually warming.

His gaze fixed on the outside, where floating lanterns rose one by one into the night, hordes of people under countless pavilions lifting the orange-red lanterns in their hands, as if they could thereby converse with the departed.

The clear ticking of the clock "tick-tock, tick-tock" by his ear, the fresh scent of roses and lilies floating about, this was the only moment when he felt at peace.

"Your perspective is different from ordinary people, whether it’s strategy or vision," Yuanyuan said. "Matters unrelated to ’humanity’ and ’civilization’ do not catch your eye. I suppose no one would bother to tell you these things while you were dealing with wars. Just as you know the secrets of the entire world of Ming Hui, you control the Talent Awakening Formation that can change the fate of the whole continent, but you don’t know what specialty products come from the Kalcha region of Ming Hui, nor how many processes it takes to make a cup of Xizhou black tea—because for you, it’s unnecessary."

"..." Su Ming’an closed his eyes: "After all, I am not a player here for leisure."

He had heard many players prided themselves on being "landscape enthusiasts." They danced under the vibrant skies of Ming Hui, fraternized with the forest elves who were just beginning to grasp intelligence, and rowed skiffs and boats on the seas of Pulaya, savoring distinctively flavored lemon wines and barbecued meats. These individuals never approached missions or key NPCs, never exhausted their wit understanding the core plot of the world. They were free as if on holiday.

There were many such "landscape enthusiasts" on the World Forum, and after each "excursion" in an instance, they wrote about their experiences like travel guides, complete with various recordings and screenshots. This attracted a great deal of research and contemplation from historians, geographers, and literary scholars. The cultural endeavors of humanity flourished since the game began, precisely because of this cultural intermingling from different worlds.

Su Ming’an would occasionally click open this "Landscape and Culture" section and saw many articles as rigorous as research papers. He felt their earnestness and joy conveyed through their words, each opening of a World Replica was like the opening of an unknown scenic portal.

If you didn’t want to meddle with the plot, didn’t want to uncover the most profound secrets of the world, this way of playing was very relaxing.

"So, on this day, the first day of the Fuyuan Festival, our New Year’s Day, would you like to play like those landscape enthusiast players, as if traveling for fun?" Yuanyuan asked.

She brushed her untidy black hair that fell to her shoulders with her hand, and a red string slid from her wrist, wrapping around and binding her ponytail, now held high. With her ponytail suspended, her appearance was valiant, less gentle in her brows and eyes, much like the Yuanyuan he remembered from high school classes.

"Then let’s go," Su Ming’an nodded.

They had made plans to celebrate New Year together last year.

He unplugged the devices and needles from his body, ignoring the nurse’s persuasion, and leapt out of the window, donning the Demon Fox mask she had just purchased and stepping into the complex world below.

Upon landing, his body slightly wavered, his legs not fully recovered yet. She reached out to steady him, taking him with her as they moved forward together.

As the lamp light climbed the sky, spectacular fireworks burst amid the sudden cheers from the crowd against the night, stars encircling, the flames dazzling. Her ponytail rose high with each step, like a moving cloud leading him through the streets and alleys, just like Red-eyed Noel, Lv Shu, and Lin Yin had led him through the crowds during New Year’s celebration.

The breeze felt gentle at that moment, and even his vision recovered its normal colors. Her red string lifted high, jingling with the bells, and it seemed as if a scent like red wine wafted from her, spreading through the air with her steps.

The bullet comments also conveyed New Year’s greetings:

[Happy New Year, Su Ming’an!]

[We hope to celebrate the New Year with you again next year!]

"How wonderful, Yuanyuan is here too—Happy New Year, everyone—!"

"There are so many people on the streets of the Main God World, I looked and everyone is watching the live broadcast, over a hundred million people outside the screen watching Su Ming’an celebrate New Year’s."

"The nuclear explosion wasn’t stopped... Could there be problems on the side of the City of Gods? Doesn’t this mean Su Ming’an has given up on all his previous plans in the City of Gods?"

"It’s fine, Number One Player must have his own thoughts. We just need to watch his victory—"

"..."

"Here you go."

Yuanyuan extended her hand, stuffing a warm paper bag into Su Ming’an’s palm. Inside was food similar to egg waffles, with a soft and rich exterior, filled with cream—a local luxury that people only indulged in during festivals.

Accepting the paper bag with slight discomfort, Su Ming’an took a bite, his mind involuntarily flitting over terms like Dawn System, Xike, and Ta Wei, even the sight of children playing on the streets brought to mind key NPCs. He had grown accustomed to being constantly tense and thinking, to the extent that he couldn’t immerse himself in the New Year relaxation.

He bit into the yellowish flour-based food, and it indeed tasted like egg waffles, soft and sticky, with a creamy sweetness. It had been a long time since he had eaten such food, replaced by high energy-to-cost ratio snacks like chocolate in his diet.

"Is it good?" she asked.

"Mmm..." Su Ming’an’s thoughts had drifted back to the battlefield.

And Yuanyuan didn’t try to forcefully pull his attention back, allowing him to wander in thought, leading him through the streets and alleys, buying him various... trinkets he’d never have given a second glance before.

Glutinous rice cakes and egg waffles were one thing, but she even bought non-sharpened toy swords and water guns without live rounds, as well as wilting flowers and some unfashionable clothes.

"In this Ruined World, there are many such unknown small towns, scattered across the World like stars, that could be destroyed at any moment by unexpected gunfire... and in this small town we see, there are countless vendors struggling to make ends meet. I come from City of Measurement in the 102nd year after the Catastrophe, and have not experienced war. I think I can help them, even if it’s just with a little money," said Yuanyuan.

Having lived there for twenty-three years, she seemed to have become a part of the City of Measurement. She truly regarded these NPCs as living people, not just strategic targets or programs in Su Ming’an’s eyes. She lived each World as though it were a real life.

They walked on the main street, their faces obscured by thickly painted masks, and no one knew he was the Lord of Acto City who led the Dawn War. People chatted, laughed, looked into the distance, praying for the safe return of relatives and friends from the front lines, while children holding crackling fireworks shouted as they stepped through thick snow, and hundreds of Floating Lanterns slowly rose into the sky.

She turned in the snowstorm.

"Dingling—dingling—" The silver bells at her waist tinkled, the evening breeze held her bundled up black hair, breaking the flowing light on her shoulder. There were flickering spots in her eyes as if fireflies were dancing in her pitch-black pupils.

"—Are you happy?"

"Mm," answered Su Ming’an.

"—I couldn’t return to the Main God World, couldn’t spend New Year’s with you, but I heard Lv Shu and the others were with you, it’s only going to get better from here," she said with a smile.

Her voice, through the interplay of light and swirling snow, seemed like distant piano music.

For a moment, the orange-red Floating Lantern that she held seemed to illuminate the long shadow trailing behind him, burning all that was dark and ugly within to ashes. The way she lived was countless times more beautiful than any dead body.

"Good," Su Ming’an said.

"Are you really happy?" Yuanyuan asked.

"Happy."

"Then we will celebrate the New Year again in the future."

"`Alright.`"

"`Pinky promise.`" Yuanyuan extended her unburned, smooth hand.

Su Ming’an’s little finger linked with hers, touching the thin calluses left by sword training, a whetstone that had always accompanied her spirit.

"`I will take you home,`" he said.

On New Year’s Day, he wanted to bring everyone home, and now he would not leave her out.

She did not speak, only smiled and raised the lantern in her hand.

The floating lantern was constructed from a wire frame, its surface covered with a layer of oil paper resistant to wind and snow, with a square candle fixed on the frame, resembling a half-open house in mid-air.

A floating lantern is a gift to the departed. Su Ming’an took the pen and without much thought, wrote down a string of names.

[Xia Sheng], [Sita Xi], [Fayse], [Yao Wen], [Carol], [Fei Yi], [Roxanne]...

"`Hey, hey—`" Yuanyuan noticed something was amiss. "`You can only write up to ten names, any more and it won’t work.`"

With dozens more names still floating in Su Ming’an’s mind, he could only put down the pen upon hearing her words.

"`Let it go.`" Yuanyuan raised her hands high.

The flame within the hazy muslin shade swayed gently, soon burning fiercely. She let go, and the lantern, like a flicker of flame in the air, seemed to drift toward a fantastical world beyond human reach.

One by one, the lanterns drifted with the wind, some high and some low, resembling a sky full of orange-red stars. Su Ming’an’s lantern gradually blended with the hundreds of floating lanterns, becoming finer as it merged into the night sky, turning into a star above.

—Where does the road lead? Where does love go?

He looked up as it drifted away, the festive breeze buffeting his face. Turning his head, Yuanyuan’s eyes appeared like two other fireworks, and her hair, lifted by the wind, seemed dyed with a complex radiance.

As if she were carved from white porcelain, not only beautiful but also incredibly fragile.

"`...Yuanyuan?`" he called out, gripping her sleeve, feeling the real touch of the fabric. He thought for a moment that he had succumbed to an illusion.

The beauty was too rare, making it feel like a dream.

"`I’m right here, I haven’t left.`" Yuanyuan placed her hand over his, sharing warmth: "`Let’s go back. You need to sleep.`"

She knew that what he craved wasn’t the splendid fireworks or beautiful flowers; what he needed was rest. In her eyes, he resembled a patient who had become ill under prolonged pressure.

Even though the patient himself was unaware, thinking his mental state was perfectly normal.

Su Ming’an gazed at the lantern until it was no longer visible, then turned around.

"`Let’s go.`"

She escorted him back to the hospital, where a line of doctors and nurses immediately surrounded him at the entrance.

"`Lord, your vital signs are not stable, please don’t wander off...`"

"`Lord, you should at least bring a guard with you, what if something happens?`"

"`Lord...`"

They crowded around him back to the ward, and Yuanyuan tucked him into bed, the pure white room resembling a fallen paradise.

Lastly, she placed a crown made of ginkgo leaves that resembled a wreath, by his bedside. The ginkgo leaf crown was golden and radiant, like interlaced gold.

"`I heard you think that something made of twelve flowers can restore your Sanity Value. I made this for you, hoping you’ll feel better,`" Yuanyuan said.

Su Ming’an looked into her eyes and uttered, "`Mm.`"

He hadn’t said much tonight, simply "`Mm`" or "`Alright,`" which was already enough.

"`Then, good night?`" Her hand touched his eyelids.

"`—!`"

Suddenly,

In that instant,

The moment his eyes were covered by her hand, plunging into darkness, he was struck with an overwhelming tide of intense fear and panic, as if the sound of something shattering echoed in his ears.

He heard the buzzing around his ears as if they were hallucinations, dense like swarming flies.

[—You’ve returned from the City of Gods, but what about the nuclear blast? What about the unopposed Lin Guang?]

[—If you’re gone, who will rescue the domesticated Yamada? Who will save the red-eyed Noel on the first floor of the City of Gods?]

[—The last thing you should’ve done was to teleport directly to Yuanyuan’s side...]

These voices were the source of his anxiety all night long—none of the joy she had prepared for the New Year’s night could be enjoyed at all; it all felt like an illusion.

...Please stop.

...Don’t ring in his ears anymore.

He wanted to dispel them, but the more he listened, the more familiar the voices seemed...

These voices—their tone—their manner...

That’s right.

—It was his own voice.

"`...`"

He suddenly moved her hand away from his eyes and realized his own lips were moving, repeating these words:

"You shouldn’t have come back..." he murmured to himself, his black hair damp and sticking to the side of his face, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

Yet Yuanyuan was just quietly watching him, as if accustomed to his hysterics.

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