‘I’ve done it again…’
‘Confused my dreams with reality…’
‘Confused the future and the past with the present…’
While Hongyu was checking on Dusk, Ling had also belatedly realized that something was wrong.
‘That old geezer never stares directly into other people’s eyes like that…’
‘So was that something from the future?’
‘Or the past…?’
‘A future where the old geezer no longer suppresses his emotions?’
‘Or perhaps a time before he started doing so?’
Ling didn’t know.
All she knew was that it wasn’t something happening in the present.
Recently, her dreams had been growing increasingly strange.
Sometimes they were extraordinarily long.
So long, in fact, that a single dream could span an entire decade.
And Ling had a terrible feeling that they would only continue growing longer.
For the first time in a long while, she felt afraid.
She was frightened that one day she might lose herself inside her dreams.
That she might wake up and no longer be the person she had once been.
Even worse, she feared that she would someday forget the people she cared about.
Especially Yu.
She absolutely did not want to forget him.
Sometimes, she even dreamed of his death…
Ling understood her own divine authority.
Freedom.
And she knew that dreams could reveal glimpses of the future.
She simply didn’t dare believe what she had seen.
As her thoughts grew increasingly tangled and the wine in her gourd gradually dwindled, a familiar voice suddenly reached her ears.
“Ling?
Why are you drinking all alone out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s time to go home.”
Hongyu approached at his usual leisurely pace, looking as though nothing in the world could possibly trouble him.
“Yu, sometimes I really envy you…”
Ling suddenly blurted out the words without any apparent reason.
Even she didn’t understand why seeing Hongyu had prompted her to say them.
“Huh?”
Hongyu paused for a moment.
Then he resumed walking and spoke in a teasing tone.
“Did you dream about some future event again?”
“Come on, the future is still uncertain.
Just focus on being yourself.”
“Stop getting all sentimental.
That sort of behavior doesn’t suit the great and carefree Ling at all.”
Hongyu sat down beside her and held out his hand, silently asking for her wine gourd.
“Hey, since when did my name become an adjective?”
Ling laughed.
“And weren’t you supposed to be taking me home?
Why are you suddenly asking me for wine?”
Nevertheless, she obediently handed him the gourd.
After smacking her lips a couple of times, she added a reminder.
“There’s barely any left, so don’t drink too much.”
Hongyu chuckled.
Without caring that Ling had already been drinking from it, he raised the gourd and took several enormous gulps.
Afterward, he coughed twice before slowly speaking.
“If we finish it, we can always buy more.
What’s the point in worrying about it?”
I really don’t drink very often.
Even a little wine makes me cough…”
“How about we head into town later and buy some tanghulu?”
Hongyu turned toward Ling with the suggestion.
Ling accepted the now-empty gourd with an expression that practically screamed, ‘Oh, give me a break.’
“Old geezer, you really haven’t changed at all since I was little…”
“Oh?”
Hongyu suddenly turned the question back on her.
“Then what sort of person do you remember me being when you were little?”
“You…
of course you were…”
Ling froze.
An enormous flood of memories from her dreams suddenly surged through her mind.
Countless experiences, some spanning years or even decades, blurred together.
For a moment, she couldn’t recall the details of her own past.
A wave of panic began creeping into her thoughts.
“You…”
Ling grew frightened.
She was just about to make up an excuse, send Hongyu away, and spend some time sorting through her memories alone.
But before she could speak, Hongyu interrupted her firmly.
“Ling.”
He reached out, drew her into a reassuring embrace, and held her close.
“Ling, stop hiding things from me.”
“Tell me what’s happening.”
“Tell me about Sui.”
“I know its influence on you must be considerable, isn’t that right?”
Hongyu’s sudden gesture caught Ling completely off guard.
She stammered helplessly, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Her fair cheeks gradually turned bright red.
Almost unconsciously, her arms moved around Hongyu’s waist as well.
“Well…
um…
that is…”
“It’s alright.
There’s no need to rush.”
Hongyu’s voice remained calm and steady.
“Let’s start with something simple.”
“How about telling me what you dreamed about each day?”
“Would that be alright?”
As he spoke, Hongyu quietly activated his abilities.
He placed a temporary seal upon the restless consciousness of Sui that had begun influencing Ling.
Immediately, Ling felt a refreshing sensation spread from her chest throughout her entire body.
The fog clouding her memories gradually began to clear.
After taking a moment to collect herself, she returned to her usual carefree and easygoing demeanor.
It was almost as though the flustered girl from a moment earlier had been someone else entirely.
“Well…
since you’re putting it that way, old geezer…”
Ling tightened her arms around Hongyu.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind telling you…”
When people begin facing the possibility of losing their memories, they often start cherishing the people around them more deeply than ever before.
“Ling, that’s a little tight…”
Hongyu suddenly noticed something.
“Just a little longer, old geezer.”
“I’m feeling rather tired.”
Ling rested her head against him, seeking comfort in his familiar presence.
Seeing this, Hongyu stopped trying to persuade her.
He simply allowed Ling to remain there.
‘It’s not like letting her hold on to me is going to hurt anything.’
Hongyu thought little of his own gradually weakening body.
From this point onward, he would need to teleport repeatedly between different locations.
He intended to visit the other Sui fragments without drawing attention to what he was doing.
He wanted to keep his plans hidden from them as much as possible.
Although using his abilities in this manner would place an enormous strain on his body, Hongyu had no hesitation about proceeding.
He couldn’t ignore the possibility that Sui’s awakening consciousness might already be influencing the other fragments.
Even if…
Even if doing so meant bringing his own death a little closer.
‘But that’s alright, isn’t it?’
‘They’ve already grown up.’
‘All I need to do now is use the time I have left to make sure their futures are secure.’
At some point, the silk bandages covering Hongyu’s eyes had come loose.
A passing breeze caught them and carried them away.
Ling raised her head.
And this time, she saw Hongyu’s gray-blue eyes clearly.
Within them was a tenderness that even Hongyu himself had failed to notice.
“According to the ancient records, the first Grand Warden possessed an extraordinary variety of abilities, numbering in the hundreds.”
“Yet most people could spend their entire lives training without ever reaching his level of mastery in even one of them.”
Leizi, also known as Jingzhe, had traveled to Lungmen to question a certain Sui fragment who had retired there and possessed a particular fondness for chili peppers.
“Miss Nian, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“What exactly caused the first Grand Warden’s death?”
“Little girl, he died from illness.”
“And from old age.”
Nian’s initially unfriendly expression gradually softened into one of resignation.
To be fair, she somewhat admired the courage of the young woman standing before her.
Leizi had traveled all the way from Great Yan’s capital to Lungmen just to ask one of the Sui fragments about Hongyu’s death.
That was certainly bold.
“But if the records preserved by the Sui Regulator are accurate, then the first Grand Warden was undoubtedly an existence comparable to a god.”
“How could someone like that possibly…”
“Stop right there.”
Nian raised her folding paper fan and gently pressed it against Leizi’s lips.
Then she gave a faint, self-mocking smile.
“You’re right.”
“We used to believe he was an omnipotent god too.”
“Unfortunately…”
“He wasn’t.”
‘And the most ridiculous part is that we only realized it after he was gone.’
“Alright, little girl.
I’ve said enough.”
Nian waved a hand, clearly indicating that it was time for her guest to leave.
“I had to work pretty hard to convince Second Brother to give me more than ten years off.”
“I’m not interested in answering any more questions about work.”
“However…”
Nian suddenly changed her tone.
“If you’ve come here to enjoy some hotpot, you’re more than welcome!”
Leizi glanced at the sign hanging inside Nian’s hotpot restaurant.
After offering a polite word of thanks, she turned around and left.