first player

Interlude 1551: "After Shaking Hands with Noel (Part 2)"

“We’re going to see the castle owner’s room, would you like to come along?” Hui Bai said.

“…Okay.” Su Ming’an nodded, signaling Ying Su not to act rashly.

The four of them crept stealthily through the castle, and after a while, they sneaked into a room.

“There aren’t any guards at all,” Antetria said cautiously. “Su Ming’an.”

Su Ming'an and Ying Su turned around at the same time.

“One person, one corner, slowly search towards the center,” Antetria said.

The search began, and Su Ming'an tried out his skill. To his surprise, it worked. He immediately activated "Clues Insight" and quickly found a red circle.

It was a booklet, and Su Ming'an began to read it.

……

[A Guide to Human Survival]

[01: Do not get close to people named "Hui Bai" or "Su Ming'an." Becoming friends with them greatly increases the risk of death.]

【02: Do not use profanity or discuss sensitive topics.】

【03: Avoid unhealthy activities below the neck.】

【04: No excessively bloody or violent acts are permitted; any acts of killing should be as concise and clean as possible.】

[05: Don't let them fully understand your life, your past, your ideals. Once they know everything about you, you'll most likely face death.]

[06: If they mention topics like "players," "quests," "NPCs," or "world game," please ignore and forget about them.]

[07: Do not try to develop feelings beyond friendship with them, especially do not confess your feelings or engage in intimate physical contact.]

[08: All your actions must be based on sound logic. You cannot make decisions on a whim or be capricious. The story is not as absurd as reality; please respect the character's established persona.]

……

"Whose survival guide is this?" Ying Su leaned closer. "It's from an NPC, right?"

"No swearing or talking about sensitive topics, no activities below the neck..." Su Ming'an muttered to himself, "Could it be [The Mysterious Rules]?" The third level of the Disciple Game, Mingxi Campus, is [The Mysterious Rules]. What does it have to do with the fourteenth level?
“Interesting, look at point five.” Ying Su stroked her chin and chuckled, “Once we understand the NPC as a whole, there’s a high probability that the NPC will die…”

“It’s like a story,” Hui Bai interjected.

The two turned around and saw a tall, blond young man walking towards them with his hands in his pockets, like a blazing sun: "According to the logic of most stories, once a character is sufficiently developed, they can die. All the brilliant qualities and experiences a person has had before are just the prelude to their death. The more brilliant and substantial the prelude, the more shocking their death will be. So, according to this logic, the best way for a character to survive in a story is indeed—to prevent the protagonist from knowing him/her, and to prevent the plot from developing around him/her."

"That's quite a tricky way of thinking." Ying Su raised an eyebrow.

“If you really treat the dungeon as a story, then this logic is indeed correct,” Hui Bai said.

“That’s it, now I know you really well, Huibai,” Su Ming’an suddenly said.

"Hahaha..." Hui Bai laughed a few times: "You saw it too, this booklet says - [Don't go near people named 'Hui Bai' and 'Su Ming'an', which means that in this story, only Su Ming'an and I are considered the protagonists? Although I don't know why they make that judgment, there are clearly many other excellent players. But don't worry, Nuoer, you'll be fine."

Antetria calmly said, "What will happen if we break the rules? Huibai, say something swearing."

Hui Bai kept smiling.

Antetria kept smiling.

It seems no one would risk their life.

Suddenly, I heard soft footsteps behind me.

“…Someone’s coming.” Antetria immediately said, “Scatter!”

The four immediately scattered, and the next moment, they sensed an extremely strong sense of danger. Even with Hui Bai's strength, he felt threatened.

Ying Su quickly deployed her invisibility cloak, covering Su Ming'an inside.

"Tap, tap."

The sound of slightly high heels.

The door was pushed open, and the dim candlelight of the corridor spilled out sparsely, revealing a thin figure.

He was a young boy with slightly slanted white bangs that framed a pair of bright golden eyes. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt with lace detailing on the collar and cuffs, and lantern shorts that revealed his fair calves. He also wore a pair of pure white leather shoes.

The moment he appeared, a blood-red system icon appeared before everyone's eyes:
……

【WARNING-001】

[Danger Level: Highest]

[Characteristics: Unknown]

[Instant Death Rule: Unknown]

[Escape Rules: Unknown]

[Note: Please be extremely careful!!]

……

"...Damn, this is truly bizarre rule-making." Ying Su complained inwardly.

This kind of game with such rules is the most unreasonable; no matter how strong you are, breaking the rules means death, with an extremely low margin for error. To make matters worse, they seem to have encountered the strongest supernatural tale.

"...Is this really a strange rule?" Su Ming'an had a different opinion.

He had already recognized the white-haired youth as Su Liujin. The first World Game didn't include Rovasa, so how did Rovasa and her group end up here?
The white-haired boy walked in with a smile, his hands in his pockets as if he were taking a stroll. He glanced meaningfully at the scattered booklets on the table, clearly noticing that someone had been here before.

"Tap, tap."

He passed by the curtains where Hui Bai and Antetria were hiding and stopped.

The two held their breath; they didn't want to confront the strongest ghost story, where "touching it means certain death." Amidst their trepidation, the white-haired youth finally took another step, heading towards the corner where Su Ming'an and Ying Su were hiding.

The white-haired boy stopped less than two steps away.

Su Ming'an could clearly feel that Ying Su's breathing had become heavier.

"Bang!" Suddenly, a series of loud footsteps came from outside the door, accompanied by a man's scream, which should be the player being chased.

Su Liujin paused, slowly turned around, left the room, and walked towards the man.

A moment later, a very pitiful scream came from the end of the corridor.

"Take this opportunity and scatter!" Hui Bai shouted. Ying Su immediately grabbed Su Ming'an and rushed outside. With a crash, they smashed through the glass and fell from the castle's high-rise building, landing on the snow.

"...Who are you?" Suddenly, a panicked female voice came from ahead.

The two looked up and saw a girl with dark hair, pale skin, heavy eyelids, and fiery red lips, like a beautiful woman in a Western European oil painting. The girl was wearing a long lace dress adorned with blood-red roses and carrying a small flower basket, picking flowers in the garden.

"Could this be that blue-haired guy's daughter?" Ying Su said.

"...The age doesn't seem right either," Su Ming'an complained.

"I am Princess Isa of this castle! Who are you?!" The black-haired girl, regaining her senses, pointed at the two and said, "You...you jumped down from the upper floor. Were you having an affair with a maid?"

"What kind of thought process do you have! Does jumping off a building necessarily mean you're having an affair?" Ying Su couldn't help but complain. "And your titles are so confusing! The castle owner is an earl, how can you be a princess?"

"I..." Isha stomped her foot in embarrassment and annoyance: "None of your business!"

So she was a self-proclaimed princess... Su Ming'an glanced back at the window; Su Liujin hadn't followed.

……

【WARNING-005】

Risk level: Low

[Immediate Death Rule: Tell her that her lover will not be coming back.]

[Escape Rules: Unknown]

[Note: 005 mostly appears in the garden, waiting for her celestial lover. Whenever the roses are at their most beautiful, her lover appears and embraces her.]

……

You have received a quest from Princess Isa: "Find me a rose."

[Mission objective: Find the most beautiful rose for Princess Isa.]

[Quest Reward: One key.]

……

"Wow, so we've stumbled into the realm of another ghost story." Ying Su thought for a moment, "But this one seems safer... Anyway, let's help her find flowers first."

"Mm-hmm." Isa nodded in satisfaction. "Before we look for flowers, I'm going to give each of you a name."

"What does finding flowers have to do with naming?" Su Ming'an looked up.

“Just listen to the princess’s orders!” Isabella pointed at Su Ming’an: “Then your name is… Blue Rose.”

It sounds pretty good... Su Ming'an hesitated for a moment, but didn't want to spoil her fun.

“Your name is…” Isabella pointed at Shadow Su: “Black Squid.”

"Hey!" Ying Su instantly became annoyed: "Why am I called Black Squid? How am I any different from it!"

"I've chosen this name, so don't object." Isha said, hands on her hips, "Alright, go find the roses, Black Squid."

Su Ming'an walked alongside the sullen-faced Ying Su Qibu, with Isa following beside him.

"Who is your lover?" Su Ming'an asked.

“My love, he is the most powerful and handsome man in the world,” Isa said proudly.

"Girl, don't be love-struck!" Ying Su shook her head: "He only sees you every night, it's such a short time, your passion will wear off sooner or later."

"Have you even talked to me? Why are you giving me advice?" Isha scoffed.
Ying Su suffered a crushing defeat.

"What is your relationship with the owner of the castle?" Su Ming'an asked.

“Oh, you mean necrophilia,” Isa said. She had a habit of giving everyone nicknames: “The necrophiliac… he’s our leader.”

“Leader? What leader?” Su Ming’an said.

“Kill those guys in the sky,” Isa said. “Our organization is called the Wheel of Fate, our leader is a necrophiliac, and this castle is our base.”

Upon hearing this, Su Ming'an suddenly felt a headache.

……

"What I care about is..." Phoenix leaned forward, narrowing his eyes, "Do you want... to take it a step further?"

[Qins remained silent.]

"This place is one of the strongholds of the Wheel of Fortune, and the owner of this castle is a member of the Wheel of Fortune," Phoenix said. "To oppose observation and defy fate is our creed."

"Rebel...against fate?" Qins looked up.

……

A non-existent memory flooded his mind, and he slapped his head hard.

In the previous episode, Su Jingtang mentioned that there were some "farmers" in the heavens, and now a lover from heaven has appeared, so this lover is one of those so-called "farmers." As a "farmer" who descended to earth, he fell in love with a "turkey" named Isa, and the two became lovers.

Su Ming'an reluctantly used Isa's words: "How did necrophilia bring you all here?"

"Gather?" Isha's expression froze for a moment, then she gave a simple smile: "There is no gathering. We opened our eyes and we were right here."

"You were born here?" Su Ming'an said.

“Yes, when I was born…” Isa lifted her skirt and twirled around, her beautiful, heavily made-up face even more captivating: “This was my age, this was my appearance, I have no memories of growing up, and I have no parents.”

She tilted her head back and counted on her fingers: "White Tombstone, Cake Face, Little Knight, Purple Cat... they were all born here suddenly, just like me. Anyway, I am Princess Isa, and I have a lover in heaven. We love each other very much."

Su Ming'an and Ying Su exchanged a glance.

“...[role]?” Ying Su said.

Clearly, this is not a normal life; it's more like a character that was suddenly "created."

“If my guess is correct,” Su Ming’an said, “beyond the sky, there is a group of higher-dimensional ‘creators’ who created people like Isa and set settings for them, such as the setting that Isa ‘must fall in love with someone.’ However, the castle’s owner conceived the idea of ​​rebellion, named this place ‘Wheel of Fate,’ and began to plan the rebellion.”

As for Huimo, the true leader of the Wheel of Fortune, he has not yet appeared because Huibai has not yet gone to Rovasa.

However, there are still some logical flaws in this approach.

What exactly does Noel want him to see?
"Do you really love that person in the sky?" Ying Su looked at Isa: "Actually, this is just your own setting, like something engraved in your DNA. You don't actually love him, do you?"

Isa was silent for a moment, then shook her head:

"...I don't know why I love him. But I knew I loved him the moment I saw him."

“I can only see him for a short time each night, but I look forward to that short time with all my heart.”

"Because I can only live, and this castle can only be so peaceful, because I love him."

"Loving him is my meaning and my mission."

Su Ming'an felt that these remarks sounded familiar.

At this moment, Ying Su picked a bright red rose:

"Your Highness, is this flower considered beautiful?"

"Hmm... there's still a gap, but I really can't find anything better." Isa took the rose and gave a light hum: "Alright, I'll consider you a success."

She placed a key in Ying Su's hand and turned to walk towards the sea of ​​flowers.

At that moment, a man's figure appeared.

Surrounded by roses, their branches swaying, the night wind billowing her wine-red robe. Amidst the snow and wind, Isa smiled, deftly lifting her skirt as she jogged towards the man.

The next moment, they kissed amidst the sea of ​​flowers.

"...Don't look at what you shouldn't see!" Ying Su pulled Su Ming'an down, muttering to herself, "Is that her lover? A lover from heaven?"

"Let's go." Su Ming'an turned around.

Suddenly, he heard Ying Su's exclamation.

He turned around and saw, in the night wind, a man in the sea of ​​flowers piercing Isha's chest with a sword.

They seemed to whisper something, and the man drew his sword without hesitation, turned and left, his figure quickly disappearing.

Su Ming'an ran over and saw the black-haired girl lying among the roses, blood staining her fair cheeks, her curled eyelashes trembling slightly, and her long dress flowing down.

Upon seeing him, Isabella tugged at her lips, blood welling up, and chuckled softly:

"...It seems like he doesn't love me anymore."

Ying Su immediately took out a flute and began to play. As the melodious flute music played, Isha's complexion gradually improved.

"What happened?" Ying Su asked.

"He... just questioned me about the Wheel of Fortune, asking if we should rebel against them," Isa said haltingly. "What you just said made me doubt myself, so I asked him back, can our love be severed by these doubts? I asked him, is my love for him my true feeling, or... something engraved in my DNA?"

"He said he really loved me. But he couldn't let us rebel..."

He then stabbed me.

"I could sense that he still had a soft spot and deliberately didn't stab me where it was most dangerous. Heh, heh... Black squid, what should I do? If he doesn't like me, then I'm no longer a princess..."

"Only when he fawns over you can you be a princess?" Ying Su said unhappily.

“But what if he doesn’t love me?” Isa touched the bloody hole in her chest. “Who will give us the resources to survive? Who will drop food down three times a day? Who will adjust the timing of our three-day flight? Who will feed the turkeys?”

Her smile was extremely pale, as if her faith had been shattered in agony.

“Black squid and blue rose are fine,” Su Ming’an said.

Isa opened her eyes slightly wider.

“Princess Isa and necrophilia are a good match,” Su Ming’an said.

"White tombstones and cake faces are acceptable."

“Little Knight and Purple Cat are fine.”

"Although you don't know who they are, you can figure it out yourselves."

"Either cover up that day so the farmers can no longer influence you, or overturn that day and make the farmers completely get out."

Suddenly, he heard Noel's very soft voice:

……

【Yes. 】

—Either end their observation of our fate, or kill them so they can never see us again.

……

What does this sentence mean?
Su Ming'an vaguely grasped a point. This person is really roundabout; can't he just say it directly? Does he have to tell so many stories like an ancient strategist, making the reader understand?
It's also possible that it's something that can't be said directly, and Su Ming'an can only figure it out himself.

“…Alright.” With Ying Su’s help, Isa stood up and said slowly, “I will take you to see the owner of the castle.”

"Wait a moment," Su Ming'an said. "I hope you can draw what your loved one looks like. I want to see what people in heaven are like."

Isa nodded: "Okay."

She led them to a room and took out a brush and ink.

Just then, a "clang" rang out from the banquet hall.

“It’s ‘mealtime,’ time to go vote on the exile.” Ying Su said, “Isa, we’ll be back in a bit.”

“Yes,” Isa said.

Su Ming'an and Ying Su arrived at the banquet hall, which originally housed sixteen people, but now only eight or nine people remained.

The blue-haired boy reappeared in his seat. He yawned and waved his hand, "Hurry up, don't dawdle. I still have to take care of her. You guys hurry up and vote."

The "she" he was referring to was none other than the doll-like corpse of the woman beside him.

As expected of a necrophiliac, Isha's nickname was not wrong... Su Ming'an shifted his gaze.

After discussing among themselves, they banished an ordinary player. Although Su Ming'an and Ying Su were demons, they did not commit any acts of murder.

"Why banish me? Why not banish him!" Before leaving, the player pointed fiercely at Ying Su: "This guy is full of evil aura, he's obviously not a good person! You'll all be killed by him sooner or later!"

Ying Su didn't lift her eyelids, as if she was already used to it.

"Oh, right." After the exile ended, Wu Yi mentioned, "The game will end when five people are still alive. Good luck, everyone."

He yawned and disappeared into the distance.

— Su Ming'an decisively followed.

"Watch out!" Ying Su immediately followed closely behind.

Hui Bai and Antetria exchanged a glance and followed.

"That kind of big BOSS is very dangerous, are you really going to follow him like this?" Ying Su said from behind.

"I was wondering about that earlier," Su Ming'an said as he walked away, without turning his head. "What are you afraid of when faced with ghost stories?"

"Huh?" Ying Su's eyes widened. "Shouldn't I be afraid?"

"Shouldn't you have risked your life and tried every means to find out important information? Why were you so cowardly?" Su Ming'an said.

“Of course, that’s dangerous,” Ying Su said.

As they were talking, Su Ming'an suddenly turned around and found that Ying Su was gone.

He stood in a vast expanse of white fog, with nothing around him.

Was he pulled into some kind of realm by the castle owner?

"Why did you chase after me?" Wu Yi asked, standing in front.

“Wingless.” Su Ming’an said, “Is this the eleventh instance of the 400 millionth world game, Rovasa, or the fourteenth instance of the first world game, the Eighteen Trials of the Liar?”

"Oh." Wuyi turned around: "I don't know what you're talking about?"

"Then let me put it another way," Su Ming'an said. "Have we met before?"

Wu Yi silently curled the corners of his lips.

"Hmm, still not answering?" Su Ming'an said, "I've seen it all, your plot is really interesting."

"Hehe, I really don't understand what you're saying, guest of the castle." Wu Yi chuckled.

"I want to break free from 'fate,' what should I do?" Su Ming'an asked. "Can I join you?"

Having read this far in the story, he roughly understood—Noel Agnes wanted to break the cycle, to have an unrestrained ending, which meant breaking free from so-called "fate."

Noel believes that all the endings so far have been confined to a framework, endlessly repeating themselves over and over again. He wants an ending that is free from any constraints.

But this concept is strange. What kind of ending would be considered unrestrained? Weren't some of the previous endings also created by their own hands?
Su Ming'an didn't understand the specific meaning of the so-called "best ending," but the ending for those on the coastline and those guarding the shoreline certainly wouldn't be that. All the information at present converged on one keyword—"fate."

Therefore, the Wheel of Fortune, which is strongly associated with "fate," is very important.

Wu Yi was somewhat surprised, then smiled and spun around in place: "You want to join our [Wheel of Destiny]? Sure. You'll need to undergo a little test."

He opened his hand and waved it gently.

"To break free from fate, you need to break free from the 'setup' you were born with."

"Are you able to break free from your own 'setup'?"

Suddenly, the surroundings lit up.

The wingless figure had disappeared, and Su Ming'an looked around.

He saw a young boy with black hair and black eyes.

The young boy, carrying a schoolbag and wearing a bulky school uniform, stood at the edge of a noisy crowd in a luxurious banquet hall.

Su Ming'an's gaze froze.

—This is his memory: when he was seventeen, he attended his classmate Bolong's birthday party.

If we consider a person's past as a "setup," if a father's death while saving someone or a mother's admission to a mental hospital are considered "setups," and if one's own life in the eighteen years before the start of the game is considered a "setup," then does not believing in one's past mean breaking the "setup"?

At this moment, the party reached its climax, and a huge multi-tiered cake was brought out.

Amidst the attention of the crowd, a slightly chubby boy stepped out, surrounded by a throng of people, his cheeks glowing red and full.

"Let's wish tonight's birthday boy—" someone raised the microphone: "Bolong, happy birthday!"

People offered their blessings together:

"Bolong! Happy 17th birthday!"

"Thank you everyone!" The slightly chubby boy on the platform smiled, took a deep breath, and extinguished all the flames amidst the singing of the crowd.

The students presented Bolong with gifts, mostly exquisite watches, ornaments, and jade. Bolong's family had always been well-off, and Su Ming'an wouldn't have come if Bolong hadn't insisted on inviting him.

Xiao Su Ming'an followed closely behind and presented his rather meager gift—a handmade piano ornament, which was a gift he had saved up for.

Bo Long smiled and accepted the gift, patting Xiao Su Ming'an on the shoulder: "You're truly my good buddy, I love this gift!"

After Xiao Su Ming'an stepped off the stage, the wave of blessings almost lifted the roof off. Bo Long's parents stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on their son's forehead. Bo Long stood under the lights, smiling with immense happiness.

Xiao Su Ming'an looked away, her gaze drifting towards the shimmering crystal chandelier.

That night, he saw many things he had never been able to eat before. He ate a lot until his stomach was bloated and painful.

As the party ended and people gradually dispersed, Xiao Su Ming'an quietly approached the enormous cake, its cream now a mess. His gaze swept over it, and his hand reached for one of the candles.

He felt a trace of residual warmth on his fingertips and quickly clenched it in his palm.

He sat on the last bus of the journey, clutching the short candle tightly.

Back at his lodgings, he fumbled for the light switch. There was an old bed, a creaking desk, a chair with loose rattan, and a faded family photo in a frame on the wall... His parents' smiles were embedded in the yellowed paper, as distant as a story from another world.

He walked to the corner of the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and found only a bag of discounted bread nearing its expiration date from the supermarket. The bread crust was already a bit hard. He pinched out a piece, silently took a bite, and the dry bread crumbs slowly melted in his mouth.

Then, he carefully took out the stolen candle, gently placed it in the center of the bread, and pulled out a plastic lighter. "Snap," a flame leaped out.

"..."

The dim candlelight flickered and danced, casting two tiny specks of light into the dark pupils.

This cluster of light is borrowed, belonging to someone else's discarded items.

He leaned forward slightly, his hands clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Then, a clear yet trembling voice resounded throughout the silent and cold home.

"Happy birthday to me."

"Happy birthday to me."

"Happy birthday to me..."

"Happy birthday to me..."

He slowly reached out, his fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly, and brought his hand closer to the candlelight. He held his breath and gently blew a breath into the faint flame.

puff--

The candle flame went out immediately.

The last wisp of smoke rose and quickly dissipated in the dim light, as if it had never existed.

On the wall, the old photos of my parents were completely shrouded in shadow, their blurry smiles hidden in the dimness.

He sat there, the only sound in the silent room his own breathing, and the faint, ceaseless roar of the distant city outside the window.

...This is something Bolong didn't want for his birthday.

After others have made their wishes, it's his turn.

Su Ming'an stood at a distance, gazing at this memory.

He saw the little boy again, walking in the humid and sweltering air, the setting sun burning half the sky red. The little boy was picking up bottles and passing by the big TV in the corner mall.

The young boy was so captivated by the television that he stopped in his tracks.

On the television screen, a group of children dressed in suits and long skirts are in a concert hall with a dome that soars like the sky. Their young faces are bathed in the brilliant stage lights, their expressions confident, as if they were born to stand at the center of the world.

...Those were children who went abroad to participate in piano concerts.

Xiao Su Ming'an stood there for a long time, staring intently at their flying fingers, at their familiar finger techniques. This piece... he could play it too...

"Hmm~ Hmm~"

He couldn't help but hum the piano pieces he had once learned. He looked at their shiny leather shoes and then glanced down at his own worn-out sneakers.

He stood for a long time, until the show ended, until the glamorous children smiled and thanked him, until his legs went numb.

Suddenly, an angry face filled his vision, and without saying a word, it pointed at Su Ming'an and started cursing, spitting almost onto his face:
“Su Ming’an, you murderer! You killed my Zhizhen. Even if you block my number, I can still find you. Even if you escape the law, don’t think you can live a peaceful life. I will follow you and make you feel utterly ashamed in the neighborhood…”

Amid the woman's scornful curses, Xiao Suming quietly returned the gaze.

People around him looked over in surprise, their gazes like countless tiny thorns pricking him.

"What are you saying! Nonsense!" At that moment, a rough shout tore through the thick air.

A strong hand pushed through the crowd, and Uncle Zhao, like a wall suddenly appearing, stood in front of Su Ming'an. He wore old work clothes stained with plaster, his cheeks tanned dark and shiny by the sun. He glared fiercely at the woman, his eyes sharp and piercing: "Get out of the way! Don't worry about my son!"

The woman was taken aback by the sudden aura and muttered a few words in frustration. Uncle Zhao then turned around, grabbed Xiao Su Ming'an's arm with his rough hand, and pulled him away from that uncomfortable focal point, blending him into the flow of people on the street.

Under the setting sun, they walked silently, one after the other. The man's powerful figure blocked most of the sunlight, leaving only a few drops of blood-red sunlight in Xiao Su Ming'an's eyes.

"……uncle."

"Ah."

"I didn't kill her."

"Uncle knows."

“I’ve been helping her all along, bringing her breakfast, teaching her how to do her homework, and helping her avoid school bullying. She had depression and eventually jumped off a building…” Xiao Su Ming’an said, gently wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Ah."

"Because I was the last person to have contact with her, her family said that I killed her."

"Uncle knows."

“I remember her saying something like this: No one will genuinely help her; everyone is just indulging in self-pity. They just give her false hope and promises, and then abandon her as soon as she thinks things will get better. She said, ‘The better I treat her, the sooner or later I will leave her. So, my efforts to help her are actually harming her.’”

"gab!"

Uncle Zhao suddenly turned around, put his hand on Su Ming'an's shoulder, and said seriously, "When you help someone, you're helping someone! There's no harm behind it all; it's just that she's insatiable and thinks you should help her forever. What's that proverb again... uh, giving a little rice is a favor, giving a lot of rice is an enemy!"

“Then…” Xiao Su Ming’an looked up: “Shouldn’t I help her?”

"Do you think it's right?" Uncle Zhao asked.

Xiao Su Ming'an thought for a moment and said:
"Should."

"That's right!" Uncle Zhao nodded. "We should just go for it and help. If we want to help, we should help without worrying about anything else. Even if some of the people who lend a helping hand are heartless, there must be some who are truly good! If they are helped, we'll be happy, and that's enough!"

“Hmm…” Xiao Su Ming’an thought for a moment, and then nodded solemnly: “Hmm…”

“So, life is long, and you’re still young. You’ll definitely encounter more heartless people in the future, and many people who take it for granted that you should help them. Don’t worry about them, just follow your heart.” Uncle Zhao patted Xiao Su Ming’an’s shoulder, his broad palms full of calluses: “If we don’t regret it, that’s fine! But before you do it, you still need to consider whether the fire in your heart will burn you when you help others.”

"Mmm." Xiao Su Ming'an nodded vigorously again.

"What's that in your hand?" Uncle Zhao suddenly noticed what Su Ming'an was holding.

"bag."

What's in the bag?

"A quilt I found."

"What are you doing?"

"I washed it and will give it to the homeless man under the bridge later."

"..." Uncle Zhao was stunned for a moment, then suddenly smiled with relief. He patted Xiao Su Ming'an's head hard, messing up his black hair: "Hey...you kid, we worried for nothing. Come on! Uncle will go with you. Let's buy some bread when we pass the bakery later. Those people must be hungry. Let's eat less tonight."

"it is good."

……

Su Ming'an stood in the void, not understanding why he had to see this part.

His gaze would sometimes linger on these images, and sometimes stare blankly in the direction where the wingless creature had just disappeared.

Even though I've been in this "long" world game for so long, I'm almost forgetting all of this.

Even though he was ready to become the World Tree, he calmly walked towards death, deceiving himself to forget his attachment to life.

Everything is clearly beyond change.

The future is already predetermined.

why.

Why bring back these lingering desires from my past as a "human being"?
When he was joking and teasing Ying Su, he thought he had completely accepted this ending, and he didn't even feel sad; he felt only peace. Until this moment, he suddenly became short of breath.

Suddenly, things spiraled out of control.

It was as if a tightly closed valve had suddenly been opened, as if a person buried in the sand had suddenly crawled up to breathe heavily. He covered his throat, half coughing and half panting.

...He really, really missed these people, things, and events.

He really wanted to go back to that little home.

“…Noel Agnes. You won.” He was in tears, but his expression remained calm.
"I am indeed unwilling to accept this outcome, and I do want a better ending."

“I am indeed greedy; I am not content with being an eternal tree.”

"So, what else do you want to show me? Besides awakening my desire, what else is there?"

"The ending can't be changed, you and I both know that. Only next time, next time I..."

The scene before us continues.

……

In order to give Su Ming'an a "better life"—a "better" life where he could eat his fill and pay his tuition—Zhao Zhuozhong threw himself into the scorching sun and dust.

He did everything, like a silent and sturdy brick, always there wherever he was needed. Carrying steel bars, pulling carts, carrying plates, running errands... he did it all.

"Oh my, this wind is really strong!" When Uncle Zhao was in a good mood, he would take Su Ming'an on his electric scooter to work, and he couldn't help but hum a tune that seemed to travel ten thousand miles, his hoarse voice rasping in the wind, "My enthusiasm! Hey! It's like a fire! Burning the whole desert—!"

He roared with complete passion, utterly disregarding whether Wu Yin was present or not, the last notes often scattering in the wind. At first, Su Ming'an would bury his face in his back, his shoulders trembling slightly as he chuckled, but later he sometimes couldn't help but hum along in a very soft voice to the off-key tune.

The wind rushed into their mouths, blurring the singing and laughter, leaving only a simple, lighthearted feeling, carried by speed, as they sped along the streets as the sun began to set. A dilapidated electric scooter carried two figures, one large and one small, along with their off-key singing, like two tiny silhouettes of joy.

When things weren't too tight, Uncle Zhao would wave his hand and say, "Come on, son, let's treat ourselves to a meal today!" The "restaurant" they referred to was the row of brightly lit, smoky roadside stalls near the school gate.

My most frequented restaurant is "Xingxing Fried Skewers". In a glass cabinet that is so smoky that its original color is no longer visible, skewers of pork tenderloin, rice cakes, ham sausages and chicken strips are tumbling and sizzling in the boiling oil, emitting an irresistible aroma.

The proprietress was a middle-aged woman with a loud voice. She smiled when she saw them and said, "Oh, Old Zhao brought his son? What would you like to eat today?"

Uncle Zhao never said that Su Ming'an was not related to him by blood; he only told everyone that he was his son.

Uncle Zhao generously ordered more than a dozen skewers, all of which were Su Ming'an's favorites. The fried skewers were taken out, drained of oil, brushed with a thick layer of brightly colored sauces—red chili sauce, brown sweet sauce—and sprinkled with cumin powder and chili flakes before being placed in disposable paper bowls.

Su Ming'an especially loves the star-shaped fried skewers. The outer shell is crispy, the inside is soft, and the salty, savory, and piping hot flavor explodes in your mouth instantly.

The stall next door sells vegetarian rice noodles for one yuan a bowl. It's a classic rice noodle dish from the elementary school gate, with clear broth, a few bean sprouts, and a few lettuce leaves at the bottom of the bowl. The broth is piping hot, sprinkled with chopped green onions, and then drizzled with a little chili oil and vinegar.

The two often sat on greasy little stools, with a bowl of rice noodles in front of them and shared fried skewers in the middle. Uncle Zhao would always transfer the only two or three thin slices of dried tofu or ham from his bowl to Su Ming'an's bowl with his chopsticks.

Aside from the times when he was being taken care of, sometimes it was actually Xiao Su Ming'an who took care of Uncle Zhao.

Times are changing, and most payments are now made via QR code. Sometimes, Xiao Sumingan finds Uncle Zhao increasingly like an old-fashioned person, treating smartphones like a hot potato.

"This thing... how do you answer the phone? Last time the phone rang, I swiped around for ages, but it wouldn't listen to me," Uncle Zhao frowned, the screen in his hand unresponsive.

Xiao Su Ming'an moved a small stool and sat down next to him, his fingers nimbly tapping the phone icon.

"Press here, green is for connecting, red is for disconnecting." Xiao Su Ming'an's voice was calm and patient, like he was teaching a clueless child.

Uncle Zhao stared wide-eyed, leaned very close, and tried hard to remember the location of the small green square.

"Then... how do we see... what messages the teacher posted in the group?" Uncle Zhao scratched his head and asked again.

Now, Su Ming'an is no longer a child "without parents". Finally, he has someone to join the parents' group and receive messages from the teachers.

Su Ming'an then guided him step by step to click the green icon, find the class group, open it, and read the teacher's notice to him. Uncle Zhao listened very attentively, silently repeating the steps as if he were the most devout student.

What Uncle Zhao found even more amazing were those short videos; so many novel things often made him laugh out loud.
"Wow! What is that? Cats can dance like that? It's making all sorts of noises!"

"What is this little butterfly? And what is this broken eyebrow?"

"Wow, this life hack is great! It saves me a few more fare!"

This man's face always reflected a mixture of curiosity and clumsy understanding of the new world. The background noises from his phone, whether noisy or funny, acted like a thin thread, gradually connecting him with the young children.

He tried his best to keep up with Xiao Su Ming'an's growth, trying to understand his world, those novel names. What is a "detective"? What is a "murder mystery game"? What is "editing"...?

The world is progressing very fast. He is not agile and his mind is not quick, so he can't keep up. But he is always moving forward step by step for the sake of the children.

He always felt that if he worked a little harder and gained more experience, he could earn more money and give Su Ming'an a better life...

These fragmented daily routines lack lavish parties, elegant pianos, and the towering concert halls seen on television.

There was only the aroma of fried skewers, the steam of rice noodles, the wind from the back of an electric scooter, off-key singing, and the faint light reflected from an old cell phone.

Their little family is becoming more and more prosperous, and the dishes on the table are no longer just thin porridge and side dishes; they are eating meat more and more often.

Zhao Zhuozhong even wondered if he could replace that rattling, broken electric scooter with a brand new small electric scooter so that when picking up and dropping off Su Ming'an, he wouldn't be laughed at by others.

At the beginning of January, Uncle Zhao walked into the house with a few banknotes in his pocket, rubbed his hands together, and said with a smile:
"go!"

"Uncle has saved enough money, I'll take you to buy a new electric scooter!"

Su Ming'an immediately put down his pen and followed after them. They had been looking at each other for a long time. There was an electric scooter behind a glass window. It was orange-yellow and extremely beautiful. When it ran, it looked like the sun. Riding such a scooter in the sunset, they could see the shimmering surface of the river, like fish scales...

……

The scene ended there, and the surroundings returned to nothingness.

The wingless figure reappeared, shrugging: "Want to continue the test?"

"How do you know about this past?" Su Ming'an asked, letting out a soft breath.

“Don’t misunderstand, I can’t see your past; it’s just in your own head,” Wu Yi said.

Su Ming'an calmed himself down for a moment and said, "Continue."

He didn't know what the test was, but it was just a recollection of memories, just something that made him more reluctant to let go... It wasn't a very difficult test.

The surroundings changed again.

The scene of buying a car is gone; in its place is Zhao Zhuozhong's somewhat unsteady steps.

The old electric scooter was still parked in the yard. For some reason, they had given up on buying a new one.

Xiao Su Ming'an picked up his schoolbag, but instead of rushing to school, he walked up to Uncle Zhao.

Without anyone noticing, Zhao Zhuozhong's once honest and broad face suddenly became sunken, and he looked like a withered branch drained of its moisture. He walked with unsteady steps and was panting heavily. He always said he was fine, but he didn't really look like he was.

Fear, like cold vines, wrapped around Xiao Suming's throat, tightening ever more.

You need to go to the hospital to get checked out.

"What are you looking at!" Uncle Zhao waved his hand: "The moment the doctor opens his mouth, he starts ordering a bunch of tests that will cost money, and in the end they won't find anything wrong! Your uncle is fine!"

Su Ming'an's face was pale, his lips pressed into a stubborn line, and his voice, though not loud, struck the ground like a stone:
"If you don't go to the hospital, I won't go to school today. I won't go tomorrow either. I won't go at all in the future."

Uncle Zhao's cloudy eyes widened suddenly, filled with shock, exhaustion, and panic. He looked at the boy he had almost risked his life to protect, and the resolute look in his eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

The air seemed to freeze for a long time, leaving only Uncle Zhao's heavy, labored breathing.

"..."

Finally, all resistance on his weathered face transformed into a deeper weariness and a resigned sorrow. He closed his eyes, let out a long sigh, and nodded weakly.

"Go ahead, go ahead, you won't find anything wrong with it anyway..."

When they arrived at the hospital, Su Ming'an supported Uncle Zhao, feeling that the body under his arm was frighteningly light, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

They sat on the cold benches, listening to the cries of patients coming from who-knows-where, waiting for the verdict, each second stretching out into agony.

Until the door was pushed open, and the pale verdict was delivered into their hands.

"This, I..." Uncle Zhao trembled as he clutched the piece of paper.

In the corner of the paper, only one word can be seen.

"……cancer".

Xiao Su Ming'an's vision went black for a moment, and his ears rang. He could only see the doctor's lips moving; the doctor's subsequent words about the treatment plan and the astronomical cost became indistinct background noise.

Su Ming'an's memory of how he left the hospital that day is a blur. He only remembers that the city sunlight was unusually glaring, yet it offered no warmth when it shone on him.

The enormous "treatment costs" stood before them like an insurmountable iceberg, radiating a chilling light.

Fate, like an inescapable curse, hung from the rafters of the dilapidated hut, hovering around his neck.

The countless zeros following the amount on the draft paper used to calculate medical expenses are dizzying.

There is nothing they can do.

They could only go home.

Under the setting sun, the same old electric scooter was still churning around. The man seemed to have turned white overnight, and he no longer sang "My passion is like a fire." The two were silent, like frozen river water, one in front and one in back.

“Uncle,” Su Ming’an said.

"Ah."

"rule."

“I don’t have any money…”

The phrase "I have no money" encapsulates so much sorrow.

"We'll treat you no matter the cost." Su Ming'an hugged his broad body, feeling the warmth.

The broad body trembled slightly, and the weary man took a deep breath and then exhaled deeply.

"Okay, let's treat it, let's treat it..."

"You're not grown up yet, you still have to go to college, we need to help you..."

"Once you're cured, we'll buy that electric scooter and take you for a ride along the river, ah..."

Uncle Zhao's illness, like the receding tide, quickly drained away his last strength. His arms, once capable of lifting bags of cement, now trembled violently even when he held a bowl of porridge.

Pain gnawed at him, day and night.

All Xiao Su Ming'an could do was clumsily take care of him, cook thin rice porridge, wash clothes stained with vomit, and futilely warm Uncle Zhao's cold feet with his palms when Uncle Zhao was curled up in excruciating pain.

However, a silent change was quietly brewing. Uncle Zhao began to avoid his gaze. When Su Ming'an approached with a bowl of water, he would turn his face away and pretend to be asleep; when Su Ming'an tried to rub his aching stomach, he would gently brush the boy's hand away and mumble, "Leave me alone."

Silence spread and grew like mold in the cramped space, covering up the rough yet warm atmosphere of everyday life.

Xiao Su Ming'an felt suffocated by the silence. He could sense Uncle Zhao's estrangement, but he didn't know what enormous decision was brewing behind that silence, a decision that would almost crush Uncle Zhao. He only felt panicked, as if his heart was being tightly clenched, as if he had been abandoned in an endless wilderness.

The quality of life is getting worse and worse, and the dishes on the table have been replaced by plain porridge and side dishes. We haven't seen any meat for several days.

Like a thunderbolt, it abruptly shattered their small happiness, sending them back to square one overnight.

It turns out that it's so incredibly difficult for a "family" like theirs to find happiness.

One evening, the last rays of the setting sun barely pierced through the window, casting a desolate orange hue over the dimly lit little house. Uncle Zhao lay fast asleep on the dilapidated bed, his brow furrowed in pain even in his dreams.

Su Ming'an sat at the small, worn-out wooden table, its surface gleaming and covered in scratches. On it lay what he had drawn yesterday with a stub of a pencil—a row of crooked rectangles, interspersed with blackened squares. He extended his index finger and carefully, very gently, touched the drawn "white keys," his fingertip tracing the rough wood grain. Then, his other finger timidly rested on the "black keys" beside it.

There was no sound. The only sound in the room was Uncle Zhao's heavy, labored breathing. But Su Ming'an's fingers began to move, pressing and lifting extremely slowly and silently, playing with the black and white keys of the piano, as if caressing a fragile dream.

His shoulders were slightly tense, his head was lowered, and his gaze followed the trajectory of his fingertips intently, as if they could truly flow out the magnificent melody that he had seen on the big screen on the street corner, the kind that pierced through the clouds.

Just then, a hoarse, almost incoherent voice, like a rusty saw slicing through the suffocating silence, came from the bed behind me.

The voice was filled with long-suppressed pain, unspeakable guilt, and a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve:

"……son……"

"Do not."

The man quickly changed his tune.

This was the first time the man had changed his address since they became completely acquainted:
“Ming An…”

Su Ming'an's fingers froze in mid-air, as if they had been frozen.

……

"...I won't be able to take care of you anymore...you...go find another home...okay?"

……

"The richer ones, the better ones."

"It's been too hard for you to be with me, it's been too hard..."

"I'm already suffering, I can't let you suffer with me..."

"There's still some money left, I locked it in the cupboard. Before you leave, let me know and I'll give it all to you... That way, your life... will be a little better..."

……

……

All sounds are silent.

Su Ming'an didn't want to see what happened next.

He stood silently in the void of pale nothingness until the wingless reappeared.

"Is the test to make me deny my past?" Su Ming'an said.

“It cannot be denied,” Wu Yi said. “I know that my past life was set up by someone, but even so, it is still my past. Therefore, we really cannot deny our roots.”

"That……"

"Now comes the main event," Wu Yi said with a smile.

In the emptiness and paleness, "Little Su Ming'an" suddenly stopped the unfolding of these memories and stepped out of the scene.