first player

Chapter 1607 Final Chapter: Crossing the Sea [64] "The Struggle of the Nameless (7)"

"True life is absent. We are not on earth. I call myself a prophet or an angel, unbound by any ethics. I return to the earth, bearing a rugged responsibility, embracing a harsh reality."

[—Attil Rimbaud, *A Season in Hell*, Prologue]

……

"Clap!"

A bottle flew at Shen Xue, hitting her and bursting into a pink mist. Shen Xue screamed and was transformed into a thumb-sized Alice.

A woman with long flaxen hair stood at the bottom of the stairs and waved: "Come this way!"

Su Ming'an used one hand to support himself on the railing, then vaulted down and landed on the wooden stairs.

"Yam!?" Su Ming'an recognized the teacher from Baisha: "You have clearly already..."

“We are not the people you remember, but this story needs us, so we were born again.” Yama held Su Ming’an’s hand: “Wherever there are patients, we will exist. Dongxue has recovered, but there are still people all over the world suffering from diseases.”

"Whose disease is this?" Su Ming'an asked.

Flax smiled without saying a word.

……

"Ding dong!"

[You have acquired the completion quest: Old Disease.]

Please find out what exactly this "disease" is, and who is suffering from it.

[Mission Reward: Clear this dungeon.]

……

"...Weren't you still trying to catch that rabbit? I just saw it disappear into a tiny hole." Flax took out a piece of cake: "Eat this cake, and you'll shrink and be able to catch it."

Su Ming'an, however, completely deviated from the expected pattern. He directly used his physical ability—summoning a weapon. His palm suddenly sank, smashing a large hole in the wall.

He's not going to be some miniature Alice; he'll smash whatever he can.

He rushed forward, heading towards the entrance of the teaching building.

……

"The Eight Rabbits were originally from the graveyard, where they met a Mad Hatter."

"The Mad Hatter gave it a card and asked it why the raven looked like a writing desk?"

……

Zhao Mingming died before Su Ming'an met Uncle Zhao.

She opened her eyes without realizing it and saw the black-haired boss rabbit in front of her. The black-haired boss rabbit asked her if she was willing to become a "sniper" in the dungeon in exchange for a chance to survive.

"A few years later, a celebration called 'World Game' will open, and you will appear as an NPC in one of the instances, where you will have the opportunity to meet your old relatives," said the boss rabbit in a gentle manner.

His approachable demeanor led Zhao Mingming to believe him without realizing it: "Which instance will I appear in?"

“Hmm… I’ve already reserved someone named ‘Shen Xue,’ she’ll appear in the third instance. And you, you should be in the last instance, right?” the black-haired youth said.

"I don't want to die, I promise you." Zhao Mingming nodded.

She arrived at the campus and joined the rabbits in their collaborative work. She saw Rabbit Nine trying to escape the campus, only to learn the truth that she could no longer leave. She saw Rabbit Ten had wandered into the campus by mistake. It turned out that Rabbit Ten was a researcher from the Lin tribe who once had a child named Su Liujin. Later, some accidents occurred, and the child was lost. She was then taken in by the Big Rabbit.

As the campus becomes more complete, strange things start to happen.

……

"Friend, friend! It's you! Isn't it?" At this moment, a voice called out from behind Su Ming'an.

Under the dim streetlights, Xiao Su walked over. His eyes were bright, his back was straight, and he was full of vigor, like a college student walking on campus.

Su Ming'an turned around, his eyes tired and withered.

"Friend! I recognize you, it must be you!" Xiao Su grabbed Su Ming'an's hand: "Only you are so smart, you solved the rabbit riddle in one go, you're amazing!"

Su Ming'an scratched his face: "There's a wrong brand name, and we haven't figured it out yet."

Xiao Su held Su Ming'an's hand tightly and looked at the campus: "I have a feeling of déjà vu. I've been to this campus more than once before..."

“Of course.” Su Ming’an wasn’t surprised. There have been so many major resets like the Rovasa Reset, and Su Ming’an must have participated more than once. Before, Su Ming’an pretended to have no memory, occasionally revealing a gloomy expression, but now he’s finally stopped pretending.

“But I remember you, my friend. You are the only variable, you are the unexpected in the cycle of reincarnation.” Xiao Su gazed at him.

Of all the cycles of reincarnation, only the one in which Su Ming'an appeared offered hope.

Xiao Su pointed towards the auditorium: "I remember there will be an Alice ball there, and you have to defeat Shen Xue to pass the level."

Xiao Su pointed in the direction of the teaching building: "We need to set a fire there so that we can have a free future."

Then, Xiao Su pointed in the direction of the laboratory: "There is a laboratory there, and inside is a blond skeleton. Give him a bottle of purple blood to unlock the secret of the mushroom."

Su Ming'an's pupils contracted slightly as he looked at Xiao Su.

Xiao Su then pointed behind the auditorium: "There's a VR lab there. We need to develop a talent bloodline awakening array to pass the level."

He slowly lowered his hand and murmured, "I remember now. When all of this was first established, I was one of the original beings. I was... the eleventh rabbit."

The eleventh rabbit, the sound of the piano in the music room.

……

"Ding dong!"

Welcome to the Disciple Game!

[Participant, your beginner's mission is: Perfect the unfinished Disciple Game!]

……

"Perfect the Disciple Game" is Xiao Su's beginner dungeon quest. He needs to complete this quest to enter the first dungeon, Mushroom Apocalypse.

He was surprised that he was both a player and one of the game's creators.

The time flow in the beginner dungeon is different from the outside world. Xiao Su and the rabbits have worked hard here for a long time, racking their brains to come up with all sorts of interesting suggestions to improve the game. For Xiao Su, the biggest crisis here is—Shen Xue.

The girl seemed to harbor a very strong interest in him, but it didn't feel like love; it was more like a craving, like a meal replacement. She would secretly watch him, asking about his hobbies, then shake her head regretfully, saying, "You and him are completely different." Occasionally, she would even set traps, trying to drug him and do something strange, but luckily he was perceptive enough.

One day, the Disciple game welcomed a group of test players.

Xiao Su was relieved to find out that the test players were not his fellow citizens from Zhaixing, but rather Rovasa people. However, the Rovasa people were also innocent lives, yet they were thrown into this bloody game by capitalists.

At that time, the rabbits had not yet tested the safety rules of the ghost stories. When the test players arrived, they were met with various instant-death rules, resulting in heavy casualties.

At that time, Xiao Su encountered a man lying in the corridor, barely alive.

The man seemed to regard Xiao Su as his son, and in a daze, he began to talk about his life. He said his hometown was a beautiful place, where the wind blew through golden wheat fields, reddish-brown windmills swayed and turned, and the sky was as blue as a mirror. He then mentioned that his son hadn't grown up yet, and that he would never see his son grow up again…

"Is Rovasa... a beautiful place?" Xiao Su murmured, "I don't think I can go there... Even if I complete this beginner dungeon, I can only return to the main god world."

He began to have some doubts about the authenticity of his claims.

Suddenly, the man grasped Xiao Su's hands and whispered, "Judging by your age... you're also an innocent participant caught up in this game... If one day... you manage to get out alive... when you have time, go... visit my hometown..."

...But I'm not an innocent participant. I'm part of the Disciple-Building Game, and this is my beginner's quest... Xiao Su murmured, without responding.

The warmth of her hand vanished; the man had bled to death. Xiao Su remained silent for a long time.

……

"Later, Boss Cat told me that if I wanted to commemorate this man, I should write a story for him. As long as his story exists, he will not be forgotten." Xiao Su looked at Su Ming'an: "Friend, do you think it's worthwhile to write a story for someone like him?"

“Those ordinary people whom the protagonist cannot see, once they die, disappear into the vastness of history. But if there is any record of their cries… then similar cries will echo again and again,” Su Ming’an said.

This campus is filled with echoes of the past.

“Yes, that’s why I remembered that man.” Xiao Su sheathed his sword: “Later, after that group of test players left, the Big Rabbit felt deeply guilty and made a decision.”

"—As long as all the organizers in the school are dead, no one will be harmed by new ghost stories."

Su Ming'an glanced at him sideways.

"The Big Rabbit has decided to completely seal off the campus, turning all rabbits into legends, and will not allow new contestants to enter until all the safety rules are summarized."

"This is just my beginner's scenario, so of course I won't die. I watched as the other rabbits tested the safety rules one by one. They violated the rules and died time and time again, only to be rewritten by the big rabbit again and again, until the rabbits' souls finally reached their limit. Before all the rabbits were on the verge of being mutated, they were all killed by the big rabbit, and the twelve rabbits were responsible for burying them."

……

"Big rabbit, big rabbit, raised his knife and killed one after another."

"The twelve rabbits raised their shovels and buried one after another."

……

"After that, I finished my beginner's dungeon, left this place, returned to the Main God World, became the No.1 player, and entered the new dungeon, Mushroom Apocalypse. Later, I met you on the second floor of Henggang Hospital." Xiao Su said, "When I left, only Big Rabbit and Twelve Rabbits were left here."

Xiao Su looked at Su Ming'an:
"Do you know why the twelfth rabbit, who was burned to death, corresponds to the blond youth WARNING-003 who was completely unharmed?"

Su Ming'an said, "Of course, because the real WARNING-003 isn't the blond youth, but—"

He looked ahead, and the figure of the blond youth gradually appeared, smiling, holding a doll in his arms.

"—It was the rag doll in the blond youth's arms," ​​Su Ming'an stated confidently.
"The twelfth rabbit...she is not Huibi, but Huicheng."

The name Huicheng never appeared in the Hui family's sphere of influence, because Huicheng died here and never entered Rovasa again.

As all the rabbits died and all the safety rules were nearing completion, the final question arose—how could the big rabbit, the only one among all the ghost stories to have remained a vigilant figure for so long, ensure that he would always remain clear-headed and rational and not become a new ghost story?

We need a safety device.

An item that can alleviate sanity.

As a part that separated from the original Huibai, Huicheng inherits the ability of "passion and courage". She has an unwavering will and a high spirit.

She burned herself, transforming into a rag doll. Her ghost story rule is that if you hug her, your sanity won't decrease.

The blond youth is not the real entity in this ghost story; the rag doll is.

"Big Rabbit, I will commit suicide... take me with you. My remaining soul... will illuminate your path, help you walk throughout the campus, and help every generation of contestants..." She burned in Big Rabbit's arms and died in his embrace.

In the end, only the big rabbit was left in the world.

All the other rabbits either died or turned into irrational tales.

An unparalleled loneliness.

The big rabbit became the sole "watchman".

At this moment, the entire campus seemed like a faded photograph, revealing its former glory. The abandoned laboratory before Su Ming'an suddenly shone brightly, spewing forth fresh clouds of mist. The blond skull slowly rose, transforming into a handsome and elegant blond youth, smiling at him. The dusty teaching building suddenly turned snow-white, as if newly built; the ivy gradually disappeared, even the pillars became clear and clean. The middle-aged woman in the corridor put down her game console, revealing a loving smile. The restrooms shed their grime, and a girl in a beautiful red dress danced. The bloodstains on the stairs disappeared, and the blood-covered teacher returned to his suit and tie. The red butterfly in the jungle transformed into a healthy, white-haired youth. On the rooftop, a grandfather and granddaughter recited poetry while gazing at the stars. And the rag doll covered in burns solidified into a blond, orange-eyed, heroic woman, standing in front of the contestants, leading them away from danger…

Time flashed before Su Ming'an's eyes. He saw twelve figures standing in front of him, disappearing one by one, then reappearing one by one, falling one by one, and rising one by one.

Zhao Mingming is a girl who's afraid of pain. The past ten years with Uncle Zhao have taken a toll on her, and her only wish is to live the life of a pampered young lady. However, here, she becomes one of the rabbits, her task being to constantly test the deadly rules of the bathroom—a dirty, tiring, and painful experience. But she wants to see her father, and she wants to see the "brother" the rabbits later told her about. She must protect this place so it can become a safe haven in the future…

The long years and the pain of alienation gradually caused her to lose herself. She began to forget, to feel lost, and to forget the happy memories she had with her father. She spent her days in front of the dripping faucet, as if she had been born there. Her heart was filled with resentment, which completely erupted when she saw Su Ming'an...

Once upon a time, her heart was filled only with sweet longing.

Swish, swish.

And the rabbit carrying the pocket watch darted across the sky like a shooting star—

"Pat-pat". "Pat-pat".

Su Ming'an gently hung the eleventh rabbit tag around Xiao Su's neck.

As for the piano music in that music room, it was just a trace left behind after Xiao Su left, not the real ghost story itself.

In that instant, all the rabbit cards were correct, the puzzle was solved, and Su Ming'an was about to receive the reward for completing the game.

Girls, dolls, skeletons, butterflies, little white flowers... they floated in front of him, all holding his fingers, like little flying elves, like flower fairies in fairy tales, no longer scary, no longer terrifying, laughing and leading him forward.

"Come, Alice!" they laughed. "Go to your wonderland!"

—What comes into view is a huge library that has never appeared in Mingxi Campus or Baisha Paradise.

It stands in the evening breeze, reflecting a thousand rays of light, like a mirage that does not exist in this world. People standing beneath it are as insignificant as pebbles.

Su Ming'an walked away, as if on a pilgrimage.

……

"Ding dong!"

You have obtained the rabbits' item: "Eraser" (Extra Level)

【Eraser (Undergraduate Level)】

[Type: Rule-level Item]

[Content: Erase any rule, and determine the winner based on the position of the eraser.]

[Note: "Faced with absolute insignificance and hopelessness, writing becomes a futile anchor. But perhaps, this anchoring itself is the meaning?"]

……

Inside the library, volumes piled up in layers, filling every niche and every arcade.

Ancient wisdom, bygone eras, fierce debates, and silent murmurs.

Above the spiral staircase are layers of circular corridors, separated by enormous arches. Light filters through stained glass, streams of light flowing inside, and billions of golden dust particles float silently.

As Su Ming'an stepped into this place, it felt less like entering a library and more like entering a universe. Time lost its linear meaning here. Each book was a miniature theater, enacting the past, present, and future, so grand as to make one's soul tremble.

He looked up; the spiral staircase seemed endless, disappearing into the shadows of the higher sky, as if leading to some other shore constructed of thought.

"I've always secretly imagined that heaven would look like a library..." — Jorge Luis Borges, "The Library of Babel"

"My God, this..." Xiao Su held his breath. Although he was walking on the wooden floor, he felt his body was floating and his steps were unsteady, as if he were walking among the stars in the universe.

Su Ming'an suddenly realized—this was the perspective of the "sober one".

In their eyes, each planetary civilization is a book being written. Lines of text depict the joys and sorrows of a civilization unfolding; archways divide galaxies; the edge of the library marks the end of the universe; and the ink stains floating in the air are traces of cooperation between planets. If the book tears, the planet ceases to exist. As the pages increase, the planet continues to develop.

That Blackwater Dream was less a dream and more a gathering place for "readers." They read, they observed, and they chose their favorite worlds. For example, Bai Qiu chose the wisdom of detachment, not interfering in the story itself, while Bai Chun chose to be involved in the excitement and interfere in the story itself.

Su Ming'an already knew the name of that platform: "Qidian".

Every book represents a real planetary civilization, and everything within it represents real life. They have simply left their mark, which has been observed by some lucky individuals in the universe. These marks are left on that platform, and to them, it is like reading a book.

In reality, everything is an unalterable fact of civilization that is happening in real time within the universe.

They are never illusions.

They are happening.

—Words record life, but life is never words.

A figure sat on the top floor of the cosmic library.

The man had long, flowing hair like wisteria blossoms and eyes as red as silk, and he leaned against a statue of a god.

Su Ming'an looked up.

In the far distance, the rustling of pages turning automatically sounded like withered leaves falling; the ancient wooden floor groaned as a book fell; from a corner of a bookshelf, a suppressed sigh from a planet echoed.

“—Su Wenjun.” Su Ming’an called out the name of the person sitting at the highest position.

He truly transcended the planet, transcended the network, and sat amidst that ethereal sea of ​​stars.

He was born from Si Que's pen, merely an insignificant little character, but now he has transcended the book titled "Rovasa" and stands smiling in this universe.

"Two guests," Su Wenjun said, "please forgive me for not being able to call myself the host, for I am merely a passerby in the vast sea of ​​books, and all I can do is read, nothing more."

"Where exactly is this place...?" Xiao Su asked in surprise.

Su Wenjun held up one finger:
"A place beyond words, a place beyond description."

"You can understand it as—this is the universe as it truly is, in an easy-to-understand way."

Su Ming'an walked forward.

He felt, deep down, that something was drawing him in.

He walked past the vast bookshelves and entered a small room. Suddenly, he found the books around him to be familiar. He opened them and found that they were books such as "Why Does Mom Always Cry?", "Grandma's Delicious Plum Wine", "My Favorite Milk Powder Flavor", and "I'm Starting to Learn Piano".

"This is..." Su Ming'an suddenly realized, "My own library...?"

He looked back and saw that the once vast hall was filled with books representing a vast civilization, while the cubicle he had entered represented his own "library".

He continued walking, and the books changed to "The Best Braised Pork of My Childhood," "Grandma Passed Away," "Dad Never Comes Home," "A Complete Guide to the Fried Food Stalls Outside the Elementary School," "Three Ways to Play the Piano Piece 'Stepping on a Cat'"...

Further along, another batch of new books floated by: "How to Interact with People," "A Map of Stray Cats Near My Home," "Video Games Recommended by Neighbor Yueyue," "Dad's Flowers Have Fallen," "I'm Going to Junior High"...

As he walked further, a vast array of books came into view, their number no less than that of the planets in the universe outside.

One person's life is no less significant than an entire universe.

"Must-Do Questions for the Junior High School Entrance Exam," "My Favorite Collection of Sherlock Holmes," "Murder on the Orient Express," "The Delicious Spicy Chicken Strips My Deskmate Bolong Brought," "Uncle Zhao," "The Best Milk Tea Shop in School," "Forgot My Campus Card Again Today," "The Homeless Man Under the Bridge," "The New Sneakers I Envy"...

He seemed to see a boy's life as he went from junior high to high school.

He continued walking forward and saw batches of new books.

"Cai Cai's and Yue Yue's Promised Jumping Game", "Five Years of College Entrance Examination, Three Years of Simulation", "The Glass Piano in the Shop Window", "That Night's Dance", "Someone Else Is Leaving Me", "My Neighbor Says I'm a Bane", "My Female Classmate Jumped Off a Building", "Ten Ways to Start a Content Creation Account", "They Like My Horror Game", "The First Time I Received a Gift", "Taking the College Entrance Examination"...

He casually flipped open a book called "Burning the Old Lady," a book he wrote when he was eighteen. It recorded his experiences as a content creator, playing horror games, describing how he completed the games, how many people liked his videos, and how many likes he received...

He casually flipped open a book called "My Father's Flowers Have Fallen," a book he read when he was ten years old. It contained his final farewell to his father. He sat in the icy white corridor, and they hadn't even seen each other one last time.

He then opened "Dad Said How He and Mom Met," a book he read when he was three years old. At that time, he didn't remember much, and the descriptions in the book were vague.

……

[…Dad said it was the first time he went to an upscale concert, wearing an ill-fitting suit.]

"This is my first time in a place like this," he said nervously, looking at the woman who resembled a fairy.

Both sides remained silent. They initially thought the relationship was over, but for some reason, they met again and again.

My mother has a pure and innocent quality, like a porcelain doll—cool and beautiful.

[Dad was walking along the riverbank when Mom thought he was going to jump in, so she tried to pull him back.]

[It turns out Dad was going to jump into the river to save someone. Mom thought he was so cool, unlike those pretentious people who just dress nicely.]

The story is fragmented, and somehow it veers into a vow.

……

"I solemnly swear! I volunteer to become a people's police officer! I pledge my loyalty to the motherland, the people, and the law..."

"I am willing to dedicate myself to this noble cause and strive to fulfill my vow..."

Looking at the photo, Mom smiled happily. Unlike the fairy-tale doll-like image, she was no longer cold after meeting Dad.

My father told me that this is love.

What is love?

[Originally a cold, lifeless doll, upon seeing her warm, radiant father, she became warm and radiant as well...]

……

Wow – Wow –

"Where am I?" he heard himself murmur.

“This is your library,” he heard himself murmur again.

"Human beings are essentially books disassembled from one another, and memories are merely pages that are put together. These are not your legs and feet, but they are just as important as your legs and feet—because they exist, you are 'you'."

"In childhood, the books that make up your life are related to various toys; in junior high school, the books that make up your life are related to the high school entrance exam; in high school, the books that make up your life are related to the college entrance exam; and in college, the books are even more diverse and colorful."

After he walked into the cubicle, he saw miniature libraries beneath the domed ceilings and the scent of books.

They may be open or closed, floating between bookshelves and spiral staircases.

"Come with me, I'll show you around other people's libraries." Su Wenjun beckoned.

"Why are you here?" Su Ming'an asked.

"Hmm? Do you know me?" Su Wenjun said, "I don't know my name, I don't know my past, I only know that I am here. Perhaps, I erased everything and died, so I have nothing now."

"You...don't plan to get involved in worldly affairs anymore?"

“I have detached myself from everything, and am just a ‘nameless ghost in the universe’.” Su Wenjun said, “Alright, enough of that. Let me show you someone else’s library.”

He pointed to a floating, open library, from which pages would frequently fly out and head towards other libraries:
"That was a teacher's library."

"Her library can be shared by a hundred people at the same time. After one generation of children, a new generation of children will read it. Her books have not changed much. They are all the same set of books: 'Math Workbook,' 'Math Notes,' 'Must-Do Problems for the Middle School Entrance Examination,' 'How to Make Children Love Math More,' and 'How to Throw Chalk Accurately at Distracted Children.'"

"She would change her books according to the details of each year and study the books in other people's libraries to make her teaching level better and better. At the same time, there is a book that she will never forget, called the 'Yearbook of Each Class'. She always remembers the students of each three-year cycle, and even if the pages turn yellow and the book fades, she will never forget them."

Su Wenjun then pointed to a library with its windows wide open but its doors tightly shut:

"It was a psychologist's library. He was used to opening his own windows and listening to the books like 'Pain,' 'Depression,' 'Mania,' and 'Loneliness' that flowed into other people's libraries. He would chew on these books and transform them into books like 'Happiness,' 'Soothing,' and 'Relaxation' to give back to others. He often went into other people's libraries to experience the books of other people's lives, but he almost never opened his own door to let others in."

Su Wenjun then pointed to a dilapidated and crumbling library:
"It was a library belonging to a very old man, a traveler who had journeyed far and wide, climbed high mountains. He had many books about life, such as 'Experiences in Climbing Mount Everest,' 'How to Wear a Protective Mask,' and 'Ten Routes to the Snow Mountain'... However, he had already distributed these books to many people beforehand, and he suffered from Alzheimer's disease, forgetting all his books. The library was now empty; he couldn't even remember books like 'My Name' and 'My Love.' Fortunately, many people had already benefited from his books, becoming new travelers and heading towards even more distant seas and high mountains..."

Su Wenjun pointed her finger at the following:

"It was a soldier's library. Because the country was engulfed in war, his library was burned down. Books such as 'Techniques of Flower and Bird Painting,' 'Mother's Favorite Candy,' and 'My Sweet Daughter is Waiting for Me to Come Home' were all burned to ashes. Only 'Various Ways to Bandage Wounds,' 'Experiences of Surviving on the Battlefield,' and 'How to Endure Nausea by Eating Grass and Drinking Black Water' remained in his library..."

"That's a streamer's library. His library is open at certain times, but he only shares some of the books, such as 'Game Tips,' 'Collection of Trolls,' and 'Thank You for Gifts to Viewers.' As for books like 'Real Name,' 'Real Address,' and 'Background Information,' they are not open to the public."

"It was a doctor's library. His library was very monotonous, containing only medical books. There were so many medical books that he no longer had the energy to read the art books that he was truly interested in. But he didn't regret it. On the contrary, he looked at those medical books again and again, wiping and cleaning them to keep them clear and clean—so that when he encountered seriously ill patients, he could immediately recall the contents of those medical books to avoid delaying rescue time. Unconsciously, those medical books seemed to have become his muscles and bones..."

Su Ming'an walked through the enormous atrium, which resembled an abyss, where a few lonely brass lamps cast a warm and faint glow on the edge of darkness.

His features flickered in and out of focus with the firelight, and he saw the library of the second rabbit, the third rabbit… The rabbits' books were almost entirely related to the Disciple Game; everything else had been burned to ashes.

It turns out that when a person devotes themselves wholeheartedly to their ideals, they will burn all their other books except for those related to their ideals.

He understood the essence of these libraries—they were all real people in the universe, and the essence of each person was composed of a "miniature library".

Countless "miniature libraries" make up planetary civilizations. And planetary civilizations, like books, are stored in the hall of the cosmic library.

This is true everywhere; "books" and "libraries" are merely concrete representations of easily understood metaphors.

"Look there." At this moment, Su Wenjun paused, pointing in a direction.

It was the direction from which Su Ming'an had just walked out of the cubicle.

"That was the library of a young savior," Su Wenjun said softly.
"His books are read by countless people outside of libraries, who experience his joys and sorrows through (live broadcast) screens, love him and resonate with him, become involved and immersed in him."

"Most of his books before he turned eighteen were hidden, and could only be found by digging deep. But his books after he turned eighteen, as he became a savior, were shared and read by countless people."

"They silently accompanied him. Some anticipated his success, some anticipated his failure, some wished him peace and happiness, and some wished him pain and suffering. They followed him through the screen, as if walking alongside him across mountains and valleys, through mushroom-covered apocalypses, through cold and pale floating cities, and through one beautiful and rich world after another..."

"He is lonely, yet not lonely."

"Loneliness exists within a context."

"You are not alone, you exist."

The adult world is cold, gloomy, and cruel.

Fortunately, people can give wings to their imaginations, creating libraries and utopias.

The enormous reading table resembled an isolated island on a chessboard, with countless pages whispering to each other. Su Ming'an looked up.

"Splash—splash—"

People often say that before reading a story, you should experience the world firsthand, otherwise you'll be led astray by the story and become a monotonous creature who only knows fantasy. But from another perspective, isn't the world itself made up of stories?
This is not a description of the world system from Rovasa's perspective, but rather an overview based on the conditions of each planet—

Understanding the composition of torrents is essential to appreciating the magnificence and beauty of waterfalls.

Only when you understand why life is tragic can you know why happiness is so hard to come by.

Only by understanding how rice and flower seeds grow can one truly appreciate the value of food and flowers.

Only by understanding the fragrance of flowers and spring can one step into this world with a heart full of idealism, instead of being crushed and losing one's spirit upon entering the world, never wanting to explore this vast and boundless world again.

Su Ming'an recalled an old storybook he had read as a child, about a boy who became a savior. A child went into a basement and discovered several doors, each containing a device that could control the entire world. Using these doors, the boy saved his hometown from a meteorite apocalypse. Such stories were not popular at the time and were often ridiculed as superficial and self-indulgent. However, it was precisely because of this story that the will he had subtly cultivated in his mind, influenced by his father, gradually flourished.

He realized that ordinary people can also become heroes.

Until those unfamiliar, external books were completely digested and chewed over by him, becoming a part of his body and even his soul—until the male protagonist in the books, the child who discovered the door, finally became his own soul.

If he had never read so many books when he was a child, never read "The Golden Fishhook," never read "The Scattered Fennel Beans on the Table," never read "The Long March" in his Chinese textbook, and suddenly encountered his father's death and the gossip of his neighbor who was considered a "jinx," would he still be so resolute and believe that the world is still beautiful?

He touches the softness of leaves through reading, and he smells their fragrance through reading.

He knew why there were so many homeless people under the bridge, he knew why there were frozen corpses on the road, and he used his vision to experience that distant world that was both illusory and real.

He walked towards the male and female protagonists of each book, took their hands, and seemed to traverse rivers with them for millions of years.

He became a very good person.

At that moment, someone grabbed his hand.

"Clap."

He was a young man with flowing black hair, eyes as black as ink, wearing a heavy robe, and carrying a bird-beak mask. Amidst the endless flurry of pages, the young man laughed.

"As expected, you were able to solve the puzzle and get here. You truly deserve to be called the number one player," said the cat owner.

"After all the rabbits sacrificed themselves, you thought you would be left to watch over them alone, but then you encountered an opportunity." Su Ming'an slowly said, combining the previous clues: "—You met Xiaobai, right? She is the thirteenth rabbit."

The cat owner nodded.

A pink-haired girl had somehow wandered into the school. She wasn't conscious; she was just a lost traveler. At that moment, Boss Cat was doing everything he could to maintain his sanity.

Xiao Bai told him that there is a library in the universe that can only be perceived by those with extremely high spiritual insight. If the two of them work together to create a perfect story, they might be able to enter that library.

"What's the point of going into that library?" the cat owner asked, puzzled.

“It’s meaningless,” Xiaobai said. “It just helps us understand what the essence of the universe is like.”

The cat owner shook his head with a wry smile: "But me? How could an ordinary person like me possibly do that?"

At first, the cat owner had no hope, but as he talked with Xiaobai, he gradually realized that the "Venus, the goddess of beauty" in the eyes of artists actually existed.

With just a few words from Xiaobai, he could spark his inspiration. Whenever Boss Cat was stuck in a creative rut, Xiaobai would guide him out of it, and when Xiaobai ran out of ideas, Boss Cat could come up with new ones. They became excellent pen pals, like kindred spirits who had met too late in life.

“So, in the end… you really did write a perfect story, and you sensed this library.” Su Ming’an looked up.

“Yes, no one in the entire Rovasa region has managed to do it. I, an ordinary rabbit, actually sensed this library.” The cat owner said, “I don’t think I’m a genius. It must be Little White, this ‘Venus,’ who made me succeed.”

"What is a perfect story...?" Now that Boss Cat understood the meaning of "perfect," Su Ming'an also wanted to know.

After all, only by knowing the definition of "perfection" can we know how to walk the narrowest and most perfect golden path to bring happiness to everyone in Zhaixing.

The cat owner smiled and said, "You'll find out soon enough."

His figure began to disappear.

"Are you leaving?" Su Ming'an raised his hand.

“Only the Supreme Lord and the Awakened Ones know how to lead others to this place.” The Cat Boss’s eyes softened. “Therefore, before you arrived, I had already completed the ritual of becoming an ‘Awakened One’.”

"I've held on until now to guide you, but there's no chance I'll ever live again."

"I've lived so long, even touched this legendary cosmic library, and witnessed the truth of the universe... It's been worth it."

His form gradually melted away, transforming into a book called "The Cat Boss," with a blood-red scale on the cover and black and white throughout.

Amidst the spiral staircase and the fluttering pages, Su Ming'an opened the book.

……

[February 23, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

I've seen crowds of people: suited-up bodies drifting on the subway, numb fingers tumbling through plastic dishes, snail-like toes emerging from office cubicles. Their lives are not yet free; they are still burdened with many troubles.

[And then I met that girl. She descended into my world like a genius, inviting me to write stories together, filling my life with color. I can hardly describe the surprise she gave me—just seeing her would unleash countless brilliant ideas into my otherwise dull mind; just seeing her would ensure my river of inspiration never ran dry.]

We don't understand why this happened; we can only attribute it to her being a genius and me being mediocre. When a mediocre person meets a genius, it's like colorful ribbons bursting forth.

……

[February 11, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

[The orange turned to ashes in my arms, and I knew that I would be forever alone in this life. When my heart was ashen, Xiaobai came to me again and began to swallow cola whole.]

"You have to unscrew the cap to drink this!" I immediately advised her.

She stared at me blankly for a moment, then nodded and started gulping down her drink.

Are geniuses in this world truly so eccentric? While I am awestruck by her intelligence, I am often speechless at her lack of common sense. She seems to float in the sky; she belongs to the vast and boundless paradise of words, capable of composing the most brilliant stars in the universe. She shouldn't be confined here, I know.

……

[February 8, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

[A packet of tea was sent to Rabbit Seven, a thick history book to Rabbit Five, and incense was lit at the graves of Rabbit Two and Rabbit Three.]

I pulled out the records and read their story again.

"What's the point? Those people are dead. Reading their stories over and over again is just a waste of time," Xiaobai said.

"The great figures of the ages need no narration from us, nor are the heinous criminals for us to condemn. Great figures like Olivers, with their lofty ambitions, disdain recording the stories of ordinary people. But I will record the faces of these people." I said, "In your eyes, these are merely insignificant words, but in my eyes, they are a grandfather who loves his granddaughter with all his heart, so much so that he is willing to feign madness for her for years, even risking his life to fire a bullet; they are a man who, even on his deathbed, still yearns for his homeland, for its golden wheat ears and ochre windmills."

She looked at me with a bewildered expression, just as she always looked down upon all living beings.

[The arrogant genius only desires to access the cosmic library; thus, let a pathetic mortal like myself record the lives of ordinary people.]

……

[February 12, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

"If you are like a mayfly, if the future is a barren wasteland where you cannot land, why still write? Why still inquire?"

I often ask myself, why did I even try to reach that library? It's like the deepest mystery of the universe; how could a mere mortal like myself possibly grasp it?

[I tore up the manuscript paper again and again, but still couldn't write a story that would spark inspiration. I realized I was weakening, and my soul was burning away—it turned out that creation was burning my lifespan and my soul.]

I've thought about giving up, about stopping this self-torture, but every time I meet her bright eyes, I find myself starting to hope again.

……

[February 23, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

I have galloped across the realms of imagination, and I have also plummeted to the icy cliffs of reality. I have read countless books, so vast yet so complete. This tumultuous dawn, this entanglement of the noble and the base, this symphony of triumph and despair—these constitute the entirety of "my" realm at this moment.

Perhaps, on this long journey without a "promised land," recording every muddy step I take is my only destination.

I use ink to record the passage of time, and words to combat the burning of my soul. Even if no one listens, this act of recording itself is my anchor to myself.

[—Until I finally understood why I was so obsessed with territory, until I finally understood why inspiration flowed freely upon seeing her, until I understood why a mediocre person could compose the voice of a genius who ascends to the highest level.]

【turn out to be.】

I love her.

Love made me transcend the boundaries of emotion.

……

[February 2, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

She said she was very interested in medieval quack doctors.

[My appearance as a ghost story is terrifying, so I modified myself to look like her.]

……

[February 11, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

She said she was very interested in the story of Alice.

[I slightly adjusted the school setting to include her favorite characters, the Mad Hatter and the Hearts.]

……

[February 1, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

To love someone is to want them to be happy.

……

[February 2, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

I gave her a Coke and potato chips today, and she asked me, "Are you leaving again?"

I gradually learned her identity. She was the guardian of order in this world, responsible for ensuring that the stories within it did not cross the forbidden line. She reviewed the "IF" scenarios constructed by our disciple game—Shen Xue's, Si Yi's, Xia Luoyang's… She knew when spring would arrive each year, when the gods would clash, and when this world would begin anew.

"Yes, the capitalists asked me to go," I said.

I am controlled by capitalists, unable to confirm my own authenticity—every time I return, I don't know if I've been killed, or if I'm a bio-engineered being created by capitalists.

If I were the original, that would be great, but if I were a bionic being created...

【…】

What reason could I possibly have to discuss love with you?

……

[February 3, 1957 (Year of the Rabbit)]

My future is to die at the hands of some contestant; this is my destined end, I know it.

I gazed at her sleeping face. She lay on a tree branch, fast asleep, an unfinished manuscript still on her face, her feet bare.

She's such a easy person to understand; she's happy when she drinks cola and sad when she's hungry. It's so easy to understand a genius.

The perfect story was almost over, and I thought someone as mediocre as me would fall into the abyss—but she caught me, she embraced me, like the other half of a circle.

[But, Ms. Xiaobai, I regret to say that I probably cannot become a perfect creator. I yearn for things that the masses dislike, for complex entanglements, for unpopular philosophies; I have only strived until now to pursue my own library. I am like the silent white keys beyond the black keys, like the stubborn pen beyond the dancing ink.]

I'm sorry to say goodbye to you while you sleep.

I sensed that "he" was coming soon, that person named "Su Ming'an." He would end my mission, and my life would end with him, because I must become a conscious being to guide him, and then I would perish.

It's a pity I still couldn't write a perfect story with you, and I couldn't perceive that legendary cosmic library.

My Venus, my Pegasus, my muse Aphrodite…

【I love you.】

No need to respond; of course you wouldn't fall in love with a mediocre person.

We are building an eternal utopia. This time, please go dance on this beautiful campus that will never end.

……

The cat owner lied.

In fact, it was not this mediocre man who sensed the library; he had died before the "perfect story" was born, in order to guide Su Ming'an.

The one who wrote the "perfect story" was the genius Xiaobai.

However, the most dramatic thing is that none of the tens of thousands of stories that Mr. Cat and Little White racked their brains to write met the requirements of "perfection". After Mr. Cat died, Little White's casual eulogy poem for him made her spiritual senses about this library.

It turns out that true "perfection" doesn't require any fancy words or complicated techniques, it only requires...

"free."

Su Ming'an's eyes suddenly lit up; he suddenly understood the contradictory answer that Noel Agni had given him—

Noel wants "freedom" and she wants "perfection".

But if "freedom" equals "perfection," then—

What can't be solved?
Does that narrowest, golden road represent the formula: [Freedom = Perfection]?
It was as if a bright light had suddenly been lit in his mind, and his vision had become wider than ever before. He was like a fish awakening from the seabed, seeing the light of day.

The countless stories that Xiaobai and Cat Boss tried their best to tell failed to resonate with this cosmic library, but her casual and sincere eulogy did.

"When I grew up, I forgot why I embarked on the path of creation in the first place... but the answer is actually very simple, just like a child picking up a paintbrush for the first time..." The cat boss's words seemed to echo in my ears.

At the same time, Su Ming'an seemed to understand the answer to the next sentence:

……

"It is for..."

"Pleasure yourself."

……

It wasn't to please anyone, to make a profit, or to perceive the so-called library, or to become the most remarkable person in Rosa.

A child's initial yearning for "creation" is simply "to please oneself."

But how many people have already lost their way?

Each spiral staircase twisted and turned in front of Su Ming'an, like a spinning dance.

He recalled the frenzied dances of the patients, their singing amidst the flames, their wild dancing at Alice's tea party, their steps utterly chaotic, so free, as if solely to please their own souls.

Therefore—the true "Book of the World" needs no embellishment or description, it only needs...

“Write down what I am thinking, what we are thinking in our hearts…”

“Write down every spark of inspiration, every word, every ray of light that comes to mind.”

"Perfection is freedom."

Su Ming'an stretched out his hand, and a dark gold quill pen lit up in his palm.

What the Cosmic Library truly desires is something that does not please the entire world.

Rovasa fell into a fallacy, as evidenced by the tragedies of Lin Hejin and Ran Bo—they revolved around the World Tree and the Magpie, ignoring what is truly free.

Si Que also fell into error. At first, he truly acted from his heart, simply expressing the longing of a little magpie in a wheat field to write. But later, after meeting the Lord of the End of All Things, depicting the world became his responsibility. He no longer wrote those ordinary stories, turning his gaze to the nailed-down framework.

The dome is distant and vast, like an inverted starry night sky.

Su Ming'an walked through his own library, surrounded by twinkling stars, relying entirely on his fingertips, emptying his mind of rational thought, and surrendering all his rational thoughts to "freedom" to write.

The word "orange cat" comes from a stray cat he met at school during his childhood; "colorful red umbrella" comes from an afternoon picking mushrooms in the mountains; "old man's laughter" is the sound of the wind blowing through his tenth birthday calendar; "like rock candy" is the feeling he had when he pressed the piano keys for the first time... Each word envelops him, like rainbow candy poured into a mold, flowing down one by one, jumping and bouncing around in his body, a mix of sweet, sour, bitter and spicy.

He was no longer standing on a wooden attic, but on black and white piano keys. He was like a sparkling rainbow candy, carrying unparalleled colors, bouncing on the keys.

These words formed him, and at this moment they reconstructed him. He walked through the cosmic library, examining himself with such clarity for the first time—he confirmed his own existence, and confirmed that his memories were undeniable.

Before he knew it, the patients came to his side, dancing, laughing, and jumping wildly.

But in his eyes, they were no longer "patients".

They are just a group of people who are passionate about their ideals. They have given their physical abilities to the "freedom" of their brains. To outsiders, they look abnormal, but this is precisely the symbol of the fine line between genius and madness.

"Life has given me everything!" they sang Borges's "Ondel".

"Everyone gets everything from life, but most people don't even realize it."

They twirled, they danced loud tap dance steps:

"My voice is tired, and my fingers are weak, but please listen to me sing!"

"The chanting of that dying man moved me deeply!" a female patient began, and people joined in the singing.

“I heard my own suffering in his singing and piano playing.”

"The slave girl who gave me my first love, and the men who died by my hand."

"On a cold morning, the dawn light on the water, oars. I picked up my harp and began to sing with completely different words."

Children, why entrust your souls to them?
Be ruthless, be as ruthless as they are.

You walk the path of humanity, poet, the path of freedom; do not follow the opinions of the world.
Let the flame of freedom burn in your heart, and do not pander to the tyrannical fashion.

Use your brilliant mind to capture vivid impressions, and don't embellish the fruits of your thoughts!
The labyrinth of memory, the graveyard of thought, is also the eternal womb of wisdom.

Su Ming'an, like a conductor, stood among a group of "madmen," yet he wrote with increasing speed, from his birth to his growth, to becoming a savior, and to this day...

Writing, writing.

Suddenly, it was as if he had finally realized some kind of undeniable answer.

He understood!
He's figured out how to deal with the clear-headed ones!

There was no need for direct speech or private conversation. In the midst of this dance and song, in the passing of torches by predecessors and in his own reflection, the answer popped into his mind.

This flash of inspiration filled him with ecstasy, and it made him feel the same way the cat boss felt when he saw Little White. He embraced his muse, Aphrodite, as if he were floating in water.

The Mad Hatter appeared out of nowhere, burst into the library, and sped away on a bison.

They laughed heartily, as if the incredible were unfolding within this temple of thought, as if one after another, they were singing and dancing—

"—Would you consider a written record of your life as true?"

"—Would you take fragments of thought in your mind as reality?"

"—Do you take your friends in games seriously?"

"—Would you miss the story planet that you never got to open a second time?"

"You hide under the sycamore tree, secretly watching the cartoons in your neighbor's house through the window. You imagine yourself as Ultraman, Pleasant Goat, My Little Pony, Rainbow Cat, a hero, or the savior who opens the door—you are filled with a burning heart for stories and ideals—you are extremely bold, you want to jump into the torrent of this world!"

Just as Su Ming'an was about to reveal the solution, he felt as if he were surrounded by water, with moving stage music playing. Looking down, he saw himself wearing a pure white holy robe. Hui Shuhang smiled and took his hand, saying, "You are not dead, Your Highness."

In the blink of an eye, he saw the cat boss dressed in a pure white holy robe. Little White took his hand and said dryly, "You are not dead, Your Highness."

—This is a scene from a stage play, where Boss Cat and Little White draw inspiration from each other over the decades and dance together in a deserted academy.

No one listens to their stories; they tell them to themselves.

No one told them about the new inspiration; they performed copies of other civilizations, for their own eyes.

The cat boss's "love" for Little White is not entirely romantic love, but rather a longing for Aphrodite—only she, only she, transformed into the seven colors in his absurd and lightless black-and-white art paradise.

“Hui Shuhang…” Su Ming’an tried to hold her hand, but her face suddenly changed to Shen Xue—yes, Boss Cat and Little White will not welcome a third reader, nor will they welcome dancers outside of the ghost stories here.

Xiaobai is to Boss Cat what Su Ming'an is to Shen Xue.

However, Shen Xue's love was too shallow; she didn't know that some things transcend love. If all love in this world were romantic love, how barren and lifeless the emotions of this world would be.

Shen Xue, holding Su Ming'an's hand, danced wildly beneath the library, as if scenes from a stage play—titled "First World: Will the Mushroom Picker Be a Cute Little Girl?", "Second World: Will the Robot Become a Beautiful Bride?", "Third World: Will Alice Become a Campus Angel?"—were unfolding before their very being.

"Alice, you won't become Noria..." She transformed into Alice's appearance, while he transformed into Elivin.

"Jasmine, your love will be rewarded..." She transformed into the form of jasmine, while he became a ghost.

"Knight, you don't need to use death to create the barrier. The siren has changed her mind and decided to retreat..." She transformed into the siren's form, while he transformed into the knight.

“Sisi, all the people will understand you. You have never been hurt…” She transformed into the form of a fox, while he transformed into Siber.

“Asa, you did not die from the gunfire of the ignorant people, you have ushered in spring…” She transformed into the form of dawn, and he transformed into Akto.

“Su Wensheng, you did not die resolutely in the moonlight, you became the youngest speaker…” She transformed into the appearance of a god, and he transformed into Su Wensheng.

But, but.

If that were truly the case, if that were truly the case—if all tragedies were erased, if all conflicts were resolved peacefully…

Su Ming'an abruptly shook off her hand.

"Su Ming'an—!" Her voice turned shrill: "Lin Wang'an never abused you, your father is not dead, your childhood was incredibly happy, you participated in piano galas abroad, you wore the latest sneakers, and no one under the bridge will go hungry anymore..."

No, no, no.

In a daze, Su Ming'an caught sight of several cards.

Those were the people who came with him.

Li Mingyue stood under the sycamore tree, feeding the orange cat with her three children.

Hui Zi danced carefree, surrounded by her brothers and sisters; she had never lost anything.

Siber, holding her brother's hand, strolled and laughed through the vibrant forest.

—【We are building an eternal utopia; let's dance in this beautiful campus that will never end.】

"A bunch of insatiable fools! What's wrong with this place? An eternal campus, eternal stories, a utopia without prejudice or discrimination!" In a daze, countless howls rang out:

"They need treatment! Otherwise, they will be forever trapped in the pain of the past!"

"These patients are driven to such madness because they have experienced such tragic stories! Therefore, erasing those tragedies is the best cure for them and for civilization as a whole!"

"No." Su Ming'an raised his hand:

"No treatment—is also a kind of perfection."

No treatment?
White Sand Paradise is a correctional school whose goal is healing! If we don't treat them, are we just going to let them continue to be incomplete?
Even Dongxue's reluctance to grow up has been cured. She said, "I want to become a good person like you." She is willing to become an adult. Isn't this a successful case of treatment?

Shen Xue's eyes seemed to be questioning, as if the entire library was questioning her.

"The boy who went to the experimental table... he could never heal the wounds of his childhood. He was suspicious, intelligent, and distrustful of everyone, but this was precisely part of his soul," Su Ming'an said.
"The young man wandering under the bridge... Of course I wish he had never suffered those hardships, but those were his 'books'. Without these 'books,' he would no longer be the person I knew."

"The teacher who was pushed down the stairs is trapped here because of his resentment before he died, but not for revenge, nor for any bloody reason, but simply because of his obsession—to save the rabbits and protect history. If you erase this obsession, who is he? For whom did he die?"

“Sometimes an obsession is not just an obsession, but an ideal.”

"Pain is sometimes not just pain, but an experience."

"Sometimes an illness is not just an illness, but a life."

"The integrity of the soul, the continuity of the body, the abundance and freedom of the spirit... this is what makes a truly 'healthy' person. Otherwise, who are they, puppets on strings, characters in whose stories? Is it really our pen that keeps them here, or the guidance of free will?"

He seemed to be walking in an endless ocean, and all the seawater shattered at the sound of his question.

Amidst countless shattering sounds, he saw Su Wenjun sitting on the library bench. Su Wenjun asked him:

"so."

What exactly is the perfect story?

Is it a heroic rescue, a heart-wrenching tragedy, or an epic sung for all time?

And Su Ming'an gave the correct answer—

—It is the brain that moves freely with the fingers.

—It is a revision that requires no embellishment or self-interest.

—This is true "freedom".

He spoke—

……

"It is to isolate 'observation' itself."

……

"Ding dong!"

[You gave the correct answer; you identified exactly what the "illness" and "patients" are.]

You have obtained the Hand of Truth (Outside the Ordinary Level)

The Hand of Truth (Outside the Class)

[Content: Wearing this item allows you to see the traces of the enlightened, and you gradually come to understand their nature and rules.]

[Note: "Now you are finally able to answer the question that the Knight of Light asked—about what 'free will' is."]

"A future unobserved and unmanipulated, a life unjudged and judged by anything that exists."

……

The rabbits, driven by passion, devised a discipleship game and enthusiastically explored their dreams, thus successfully shielding themselves from the prying eyes of the "sober ones."

A casual scribbling touched upon the cosmic library, and this "starting point".

No amount of embellishment, no amount of meticulous brushwork, and no number of complex techniques are the correct answers.

True "freedom," the narrowest of the golden paths, has already been revealed to him by the actions of those who came before him—

—There is no distinction between HE, BE, and TE.

—A life that is not judged by the "sober-minded".

—A life not recorded by the observation platforms of other civilizations, such as the "Starting Point" of the Cosmic Library.

This is what he sought, this is what the universe seeks... true "freedom".

It was that narrowest, golden road.

Exquisite stained glass windows are inlaid, and sunlight dances in the thin mist composed of billions of dust particles, gently pouring onto the vast sea of ​​books.

Shen Xue stopped, and the dance steps disappeared.

The contestants who remained in place were surprised to find that all the strange creatures trapped there had disappeared, having finally completed their mission and been liberated after death.

The patients who had been dancing wildly returned to calm, their hospital gowns transforming into everyday clothes. Some became white-collar workers typing on keyboards, some became factory workers holding wrenches, and some became artists holding paintbrushes... and walked out of the hospital.

—Because someone pronounced judgment on them, someone told them that they were not patients.

Su Ming'an's sentencing decisively tore off the "abnormal" label that society had forcibly attached to him, and exposed the lies of discipline—they do not need to be "corrected" into some kind of stereotypical normal template; they do not need to endure the "treatment" of electric shocks to destroy their unique thinking; they do not need to be locked in an exquisite discipline cage called "White Sand Paradise".

—There is no need to burn down the old site to prove to the world that it is "healthy".

Because they don't need to shed the traits that are labeled as "diseases." When they are allowed to face reality with their complete selves, these "diseases" actually make them even braver.

—To confront the absurdity and mundane wear and tear of the world.

—Go and stick to the path less traveled.

Because "disease" is how others define them.

Ideals are not a "disease," nor are they "adolescent delusions of grandeur." They are a spark, and more importantly, a reason for a person to remain vibrant and joyful in a society where passion is scarce.

It is a "nutrient" for the soul and an indispensable "ingredient" for civilization.

A society that condemns or excludes people who "think what ordinary people dare not think," who dare to challenge established norms, and who express the world at different frequencies as "outcasts" or "pathological" is nothing short of the fallacy of "labeling."

Su Ming'an looked up, his gaze following the vast ocean of books, stretching along the bookshelves before finally disappearing into the hazy boundary between light and shadow.

Words are like works of art that have frozen time itself, breathtakingly beautiful. The silent scrolls all around are watching every tiny passerby who tries to find answers in their vast, star-like bodies with billions of invisible eyes.

Then he raised his hand, like a conductor at a piano.

"Crash-"

Words flow forth no longer to forge magnificent chapters, no longer to construct fortresses of meaning; they simply exist.

"Stray cats," "pianos," "jumping games," "content creators"... they surround him, integrate into his body, enrich his soul, and become part of his personal library.

Their natural seepage under this absurd pressure is like the warmth flowing from a wound, or the mist exhaled by breath; it is memory talking to itself, or the dust of the past churning in a windless place.

People write only to confirm that the act of "writing" has not disappeared, and to ignite a spark in this eternal silence.

There are not many moments in a lifetime worth preserving, but they become images and lines of text, and can be endlessly collected, like a series of chapters in a storage box.

He put them into wooden boxes, into bottles, and into music boxes that rotate left and right.

Neverland, Eden, Ivory Tower.

A paradise where souls can find rest.

He stood in this cosmic library, holding Xiao Su's hand, and looked at the cat boss who had completely disappeared.

"Thank you all. I am aware of your efforts and questions. Now, it is my turn to resolve everything." Su Ming'an said, gently touching his chest and bowing slightly to the deceased.

Only those who survive can have a name; otherwise, they remain nameless.

They weren't any of the well-known names: Si Que, Hui Bai, Wu Yi, Xi Li...

They were just a group of nameless people. A group of people without names.

They are a husband who lost his beloved wife, a grandfather searching for his granddaughter, a boy who loves the piano, a teacher who protects history, and pen pals who understand each other.

The rabbits have their own methods, and the first player has their own methods.

Now, he's going to solve all of this like the first player.

He tilted his head back, clapped his hands, and summoned authority like a ruler—

"Boss Rabbit... no, Chen Qingguang."

“I want to meet with you and discuss the narrowest golden path of ‘cutting off observation’.”

“I know that you also yearn for that kind of end, but you are bound by the rules and cannot tell me directly. But now, I have realized it myself.”

“Let’s talk about it—about the Radiant Mother Goddess who tried to create an IF storyline, about the Lord of Dreams, about those eyes.”

……

In the name of a poet, he fantasized that he was a flame that burned away the rules, romantic yet futile.

But the foundation of his soul is a poem of reality, repeatedly forged by flames and burning fiercely in the darkness.

He referred to himself as a lighthouse to the crowd.

The verses he composed were a complete betrayal, a hopeless flight of romance to the death, a wingless bird that had lost its wings.

But what surged in his veins was a burning, silent loyalty to reality.

He danced on the ruins of romance, maintaining a thorough, almost self-destructive rebellion amidst worldly mockery.

Deep down, however, I yearn for a heart that has been tempered by reality, burning with passion yet remaining hidden.

When he first experienced that freedom that was beyond his control,

He finally caught sight of the narrowest of the golden roads.

He heard the sound of fireworks exploding within his body.

I heard the soul weep with joy.

I heard the whistling wind rushing through my chest.
Hear the voice of freedom and perfection, leaving your footprints amidst the ebb and flow of all things.

Is this the dream of a delusional patient? Must a world devoid of poetry descend into desolation? Can a denigrated idealism pass censorship?

He who has no wings, he who is trapped in the murder case on the Orient Express, he who has become a god and a dragon,

—Will it cause bleeding and flesh to grow?

……

A black-haired youth appeared in the cosmic library.

He held blood-red scales, was gentle and refined, and his face was indistinct.

He is Chen Qingguang.

That is also true.

The former boss, Rabbit.

……

"What did you see?" He asked.

Su Ming'an smiled and only answered.

"The human world".

……