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Chapter 778 - 776: "Ice Flower.

Chapter 778: Chapter 776: "Ice Flower.

"..." Su Ming’an had been silent.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry." Beili Sier kept apologizing, his voice filled with pain echoing in the stairwell.

"You saved me, what is there to apologize for?" Su Ming’an said.

"I’m sorry. I saved you out of my own selfish desires," Beili Sier said.

"Saved is saved," Su Ming’an said indifferently.

No matter what thoughts Beili Sier harbored, having saved him was what mattered—in deeds, not intentions. Moreover... Su Ming’an always associated Beili Sier with Lv Shu after his own death, so he couldn’t bring himself to dislike him.

He saw a crimson flash at the back of Beili Sier’s neck—each of the Nine Thrones had certain privileges, whether to open the central control room or other spaces.

Soon, the two arrived at a dark room. Beili Sier used his privileges to open the door and took several potions for Su Ming’an.

"This is the medical room, it has potions for restoring your condition, for healing wounds, for recovering stamina, everything," Beili Sier said.

Following his instructions, Su Ming’an took the various bottles and vials, which displayed the system notification for Blue Level Recovery Potion—there seemed to be no problem.

It was now midnight, and white lightning exploded outside the window. The curtains of the medical room’s window were not drawn, and with each lightning flash, the dark room would brightly illuminate for an instant. Beili Sier’s white hair clung to his head, wet with melted snow, soaked through like the feathers of a dead bird. He stared stiffly out the window, his pupils bright from the lightning’s reflection, lost in thought or perhaps memories.

"So many years ago, on a night just like this, the rain outside was heavy. You returned from the battlefield, wounded all over. That was the same time I went to find medicine for you..." After a moment, Beili Sier spoke, his voice filled with desolation; his fingers resting on the windowsill slightly bent as if trying to grasp something.

"Back then, we had just started trying to end the internal strife of humanity. Not many people followed you then, you were Yasa Acto, not some other cold deity. That time... was so good."

His head drooped slightly, his voice tinged with pain and bewilderment, then suddenly his tone heightened:

"But why did you insist on bearing the lives of so many people?"

"Why did you keep adding so much burden to yourself?"

"I could never understand, but it seems just like you... And because you were that kind of person, I just... couldn’t leave you. I’m not like Noah, who could part ways with you over conflicting ideals. I just couldn’t... let go of you."

After taking the medicine, warmth spread through his body, and the wounds healed at a visibly fast pace. Illuminated by the light, Su Ming’an saw the dazed Beili Sier and asked:

"You..."

"I’m sorry," Beili Sier said. "I just missed you too much."

So he chose to live on selfishly, waiting at all costs.

So he abandoned all his pride, yielding to a deity he didn’t acknowledge.

He was selfish to the extreme because his selflessness had already been dedicated to one person; nothing else was left.

The youth’s blue eyes were now besmeared with a hazy hue, a foggy mist enveloping them, his latter life as if spent in a dream, an unrealistic one.

Waiting for the one who had not returned from the storm.

Waiting for a despairingly bloody end.

Faintly, voices of Xiaomei’s live stream could be heard outside the window, the glass too thick for Su Ming’an to hear clearly. He leaned against the wall, gasping heavily, waiting for the wounds to heal.

He quickly checked the Sword of Yarman; it did have some damage, its durability was very low, but that wasn’t a big issue. He used a few Equipment Repair Stones given by players, and the mirrored blade quickly returned to normal.

In the darkness, Beili Sier’s head was bowed, looking at something in his hand. Su Ming’an glanced over discreetly, and through the windowsill’s streetlamp’s dim yellow light, he saw that it was a piece of candy wrapped in colorful paper.

The white-haired youth’s face was half-hidden in dense darkness, revealing only one lifeless eye. It seemed he had never touched real light.

"Actually, everyone had quietly told me... they no longer wanted to be human. They thought humanity was too bitter, that living a human life was like surviving a catastrophe. But I tempted them. I told them the wine would be fragrant, the candy sweet, and the world’s breeze was gentle, caressing the skin like a mother’s soft touch, sensations only humans could feel," Beili Sier murmured:

"In the long wait, in the valley, only they would sing and dance, like a fairy tale being enacted, accompanying me. They were like my brothers and sisters."

"Aside from Ya Sa, I had only them by my side, I just really wish... some people could stay with me and wait."

"In the end, they also died."

"I know this world is terrible. A civilization on its last legs, no matter how hard it tries to save itself, can’t escape its destiny of falling into the abyss. The wind is cold in this world, the rain heavy, and there are no spring flowers."

"So sometimes, I wonder if it’s best to let them continue being home appliances."

Beili Sier’s eyes were filled with deep despair as he clutched at the cloth over his own heart:

"Would it not be so painful to not become human, to not be a person?"

"Wouldn’t it be less sad to freeze myself and be buried in the earth? But then, how would my eyes see you?"

"Ya Sa."

His voice trembled:

"...Can you answer me?"

Su Ming’an put down the medicine bottle.

He silently watched Beili Sier, not allowing his own discordant voice, belonging to "Su Ming’an," to shatter the other’s dream.

He understood very well why Beili Sier risked his life to save him.

——The dream had broken.

All the motivation Beili Sier had to keep living was his belief that Ya Sa would return. But tonight, his dream completely shattered.

His fragmented soul sought only the last bit of warmth, hoping to find solace for his soul. In this state, it was more like being "awake in a dream," he knew who the person before him was, yet still comforted himself that it was a reflection of a dream.

He was fantasizing,

Fantasizing "he had just dreamed of Su Ming’an, and that the person in front of him was actually Ya Sa."

Su Ming’an looked at Beili Sier, seeing in him Lv Shu whose soul had been drained. They faced each other in silence, one with a clear gaze, the other’s eyes foggy. Even the flowing air seemed very quiet.

Without a response from Su Ming’an, Beili Sier didn’t show any sign of sadness, he just stood on his tiptoes. He was slightly shorter than Su Ming’an, and by standing on tiptoes, he could barely meet his eyes.

In those blue eyes was still the loneliness that could watch over the night, his white hair slightly lifting in tufts.

"Now I have nothing left, my home appliance friends are gone, my valley is gone, all I have left is you."

"Could you..." His voice close to Su Ming’an’s eyes: "call me ’Little Bei’ once more?"

Su Ming’an’s pupils seemed to have faded slightly, revealing a deep gray; he could clearly hear the resonance of his soul.

In a trance, he felt as if he indeed shared the resonance of Acto, clearly knowing how Acto would speak and what he would say. Before him seemed the young man with white hair offering him a bowl of medicine, coaxing him to sleep early, telling him how can medicine taste good; this was an image from his memories.

...What’s happening?

...Is this the aftereffect of emotional resonance?

Could it be that he never really moved on?

An hour and forty minutes of resonance... how could he have moved on so quickly?

"Little Bei."

He spoke out, and his voice and tone in that moment were almost completely identical to Acto’s during the emotional resonance.

"People always have to move forward. Whether it is responsibility or shackles, I will not hesitate," Su Ming’an said, his voice as if accompanied by Acto’s resonance:

"How they look at you, whether in high regard or with disdain, with hatred or otherwise, should make no difference to you. Ming’an, after I leave, I don’t want you to be sad."

"The sky is clear, all things are reviving, spring delights people just like that. But the spring is still chilly, we need to hold on a little longer."

Ming’an’s pupils trembled slightly.

His gaze was like a piece of ice that hurt to touch.

He had waited too long, even his soul had withered from the wait.

If one could say Acto reached the extreme of a soul’s lifespan after thousands of two-dimensional trial simulations and became an old man in spirit, then Ming’an had neared the edge of his soul’s lifespan through the long wait. The years were long, his heart decaying.

He seemed to want to reach out, to touch Su Ming’an, yet he stilled just before making contact. In the end, he asked timidly, his voice as light as a feather:

"Yasa?"

"Do I still smell like herbs?"

Su Ming’an was taken aback.

He couldn’t smell anything, even the scent similar to cedar and herbs had long been covered by blood in this downpour. All calls were suppressed, all scars buried.

"No," Su Ming’an answered.

"Hmm," Ming’an said, "it should be."

His face was streaked with tears, like crisscrossing moonlight, the broken luster in his eyes like a long-standing rotten tree about to collapse under too much burden.

"This rain," he said softly,

"after all... is too heavy."

The next moment,

An invisible Gale Bird pierced through his back, emerging from his left chest.

At the entrance to the healing room, the Deity who had already arrived withdrew his hand, his face indifferent. The Mechanical Army filled the entrance to the healing room.

"Found you, traitor," the Deity said nonchalantly.

Su Ming’an looked up, his pupils moved slightly, the corner of his eyes and half of his face were covered with splattered crimson blood. Ming’an leaned against his shoulder, holding him tightly with both hands. Those azure pupils no longer held any desire for survival, as if he was just waiting for the Deity to catch up and take action.

Blood dripped down to the floor, yet Su Ming’an could still feel the warm breath on his shoulder, Ming’an’s heavy breathing spraying on him like an unextinguished fire.

"...I remember a long time ago, this place was still called Zone Eleven. There weren’t many buildings, mostly dead woods."

"There used to be white birds circling in the sky, ugly wildflowers growing on the land... but I thought they were really beautiful, and I wanted to see them a few more times..."

"Ming’an," Su Ming’an spoke, "the Ruined World is too cold, wildflowers only bloom in spring."

Now it was winter.

Ming’an’s hand trembled slightly.

Outside the glass window, as if beautiful tracks of snow were falling from the sky. Next to Su Ming’an came a "crack" sound that made one’s teeth sour, the surrounding walls, tables, medical cabinets... all began to ice over.

Frost formed at the entrance, blocking the Deity and Mechanical Army still wanting to attack.

Three seconds later, the healing room was all white with ice, like a frozen paradise. Thick walls of ice surrounded all sides, impervious to any shells or bullets.

"Right, it indeed is... winter," Ming’an said stammeringly.

From his back spread a chilling frost, freely condensing and grinding, then turning into ice flowers blossoming upon his body. Rooting in his flesh, they bloomed only to present the last beautiful scene to someone who would never be there.

The frosty flowers solidified between the ice and snow, petals delicate and curled as if they were ice-blue Manjushage. This seemed to be the message he wanted to convey with the flowers.

Yuan Guang flickered beside Ming’an, the gash on his back and the blood condensing; his voice grew lower and lower.

The hole in his chest revealed a large cavity, one could see the flesh inside, the Deity’s strike was merciless, even shattering the heart.

"But I’ve already seen spring," Ming’an said softly.

"I want to tell him about the scenery of spring."

On the distant shore, that person was likely still waiting under the ginkgo tree.

They had agreed, if that person didn’t come, he would wait for him... until one day that person appeared before him, until the end of the soul’s lifespan.

"You must come, you must appear, understand? In the valley, there will be a person named Beili Sier, he will keep a spring for you. You have to remember me..." Ming’an said softly, "Yasa, I’ve waited for you so long, so long that I’ve started to become senile..."

Maybe they had been waiting for each other all along.

"..." Su Ming’an didn’t speak, and Ming’an in his arms gradually turned into ice.

He would not retain Beili Sier, for to Beili Sier, this was not "death," but "reunion." Even dying in this familiar healing room was a finale Ming’an set for himself.

Pain, almost imperceptible, mixed in Su Ming’an’s expression. He couldn’t even gauge what mood he should be in now, should it be pain or relief?

He finally understood why Ming’an always seemed half-asleep; it wasn’t that Ming’an was evading reality.

—That was a symptom of senile dementia.

Ming’an, Beili Sier—like Acto in the past, had exhausted the lifespan and time of his soul, waiting himself into the twilight of his spirit.

One loved the world.

One loved the person who loved the world.

"Thank you."

Ming’an’s warm breath sprayed on Su Ming’an’s shoulder:

"Thank you... Su Ming’an. For always tolerating my impudence."

"Hmm," Su Ming’an responded.

"For one last time... may I?"

"Yes."

...

"Yasa," Ming’an said.

"Ming’an," Su Ming’an replied.

After this exchange,

There was no more wind on his shoulder.

Between the icy snow, the white-haired young man, turned into a human-shaped icicle, leaned on his shoulder, eyes still open. In those blue pupils, it seemed there was a sky far, far away, where thousands of ice flowers bloomed all at once, their pure blossoms held high, smiling in the sunless winter night as they faced...