After listening to Yamada’s story, Xia Jiuwei spoke in a calm voice:
“I can grant you one request.”
“But…” Yamada, unexpectedly receiving such a reward, only became more uneasy.
“Stop hesitating. Just take the opportunity,” Lu Nian’an said lightly, observing his uneasy expression.
“Then… I want money,” he finally said.
“Money?” Xia Jiuwei tilted her head slightly, casually shifting the topic. She pointed toward Lu Nian’an. “You should ask her about that.”
“I can give you twenty million yen,” Lu Nian’an said calmly, as if it were nothing significant.
“Isn’t that a bit—”
“Too little?” she raised a brow. “Then thirty million. That should be enough, right?”
Yamada froze, momentarily unable to think.
“N-No! Thirty million is way too much…”
“If she says thirty million, then it’s thirty million. Leave your contact information. Her assistant will handle the rest,” Xia Jiuwei said impatiently, waving her hand.
Yamada could only provide his details in a daze before being sent back to reality.
Tokyo — A Small Apartment
Shiraishi Kotou stood in place, staring at the unchanged room, an uneasy feeling slowly spreading through her chest.
Yamada had already been gone for three times longer than his usual shopping trip.
That man—whose presence was so faint he always seemed like he might disappear at any moment—now felt impossible to ignore in his absence.
Only then did she realize how comforting life had been with him there.
The ticking of the wall clock echoed in the room.
The minute hand ticked forward.
Her streaming time was approaching. She suppressed her emotions and went live.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Tōu.”
“Now… today’s stream begins.”
She had never felt streaming this painful before.
Unlike loneliness itself, having briefly gained warmth and then losing it made the absence far more unbearable.
Every second felt stretched and heavy.
Her life had been improving over the past half-year—but now everything felt hollow.
He was probably just delayed. He would come back soon.
Or maybe… he was preparing some kind of surprise.
She kept telling herself this.
But the more she tried to suppress it, the worse it got.
Hours later, when the stream ended, the room was still empty.
“…Are you there?”
Her voice trembled softly.
“You… you’ll come back, right?”
Her voice finally collapsed, breaking into quiet sobs.
For the past half-year, she had finally felt safe—but also constantly uneasy.
His existence felt too unreal.
She had even wondered whether Yamada was just a figment of her imagination.
If he disappeared now—did that mean no one had ever truly cared about her?
And now, that worst possibility seemed to be unfolding.
Meanwhile
Yamada returned to the Under-Reality and immediately completed the asset transfer procedures.
After that, he bought a ring—and a large bouquet of red roses.
He returned to reality with barely contained excitement.
This time, he wouldn’t be ignored. He was going to propose to her properly.
The door opened.
Inside the dark room, only faint sobbing could be heard.
“Hm? What happened?”
Following the sound, Yamada walked in.
There she was—Shiraishi Kotou, her face covered in tears.
“Kotou… what’s wrong?”
She looked at him—at the roses, at his fully tangible presence.
Her emotions surged.
She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.
“…Ah.”
She gave up thinking and threw herself into his arms, crying loudly.
“You don’t know… how long I waited for you…”
“I was really… really afraid you would suddenly disappear.”
She kept crying while hitting his chest with her fists.
Yamada could only smile bitterly and let her vent.
After a long while, she finally calmed down.
Yamada took a deep breath and knelt on one knee, holding out the ring.
“Kotou… will you marry me?”
That night, at the municipal office in Tokyo, another couple registered their marriage.
Snow fell outside the window.
Inside the small villa, Lu Nian’an placed the newly recorded story onto the bookshelf by the window.
“You still like collecting stories, huh,” Xia Jiuwei sighed as she watched her.
“Don’t you think this one is interesting too?” Lu Nian’an replied while organizing the shelf.
“…Yeah,” Xia Jiuwei murmured, slightly absent-minded before snapping back.
“Nia, what do you think the goal of life is?”
Her tone carried a rare hint of melancholy.
Lu Nian’an glanced at her.
“Why are you making that face? You’ve got a long life ahead. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
“And you?”
Xia Jiuwei stared at her.
“Have you found your meaning?”
Lu Nian’an nodded lightly.
“Yeah.”
“Then tell me.”
“Nope. That’s a secret,” she said with a teasing smile.
“…Then you have to tell me someday.”
The two looked at each other for a moment.
After a brief silence, Xia Jiuwei’s sharp aura suddenly deflated.
“Are you hungry? I’ll go cook,” she said, turning away.
“Sure,” Lu Nian’an replied naturally.
They smiled at each other.
A faint, soft smile—nothing more was said.
Then they returned together to their real-world apartment.
The dining table was filled with freshly cooked dishes and drinks, steam still rising gently.
Lu Nian’an and Xia Jiuwei sat side by side, looking out at the night.
City lights flowed quietly like a distant galaxy that never stopped moving, while they finally paused.
Even time seemed to slow in the silence.
“Actually, life’s goal doesn’t have to be something grand,” Lu Nian’an said softly, turning toward her. “A day like this… might already be enough.”
Xia Jiuwei didn’t answer immediately.
She looked at the reflection in the window—seeing their silhouettes overlapping.
“…Yeah,” she replied quietly, her tone unusually gentle. “If only it could stay like this.”
It sounded less like a casual remark, and more like something she truly meant.
After dinner, the night deepened.
The room fell silent, leaving only faint breathing.
Xia Jiuwei lay in bed but couldn’t sleep.
Lu Nian’an’s words kept replaying in her mind—
That simple “this is enough” feeling lingered in a way she couldn’t quite ignore.
She turned over.
Lu Nian’an was already asleep beside her, breathing steady and calm, completely unguarded.
Moonlight spilled through the window, resting softly on her face.
Xia Jiuwei watched her.
The tangled thoughts in her mind slowly faded.
Those worries suddenly didn’t seem so important anymore.
She exhaled softly, looking away—then couldn’t help but glance back once more.
In the end, she let go of all those trivial thoughts.
Leaving only this moment of peace.
And the person beside her.
Then, she slowly closed her eyes.