Later, he understood the reason for her pain — she had committed murder.

That day, when Agnes pointed her spear at Su Luoluo, the pollution on Su Luoluo exploded. A flash of black light passed, and Agnes was cut in half, turning into black sludge. Su Luoluo was definitively branded as the Demon King, and everyone of that era despised her.

With each era she passed through, the pollution on her body grew heavier. She inadvertently killed many people, even if it wasn't her intention. But she seemed to have transformed from a high school girl into a murderer — clearly a Savior, yet she bore all scorn.

Su Ming'an kept thinking that if he endured a little longer, things would be fine — she had decided not to run, and he couldn't make decisions for her.

While attending to his own affairs, he watched in some despair as this purple train pressed relentlessly forward, with clouds obscuring the path ahead.

Someday, would it reach the end? Someday, would it plummet off a cliff?

Her words grew fewer, as if losing all humanity.

Once, he walked past her room to find it empty. Something seemed to clutch his heart, and he immediately went looking for her, finally finding her in the park. She was sitting in a sunflower patch, her skirt covered in dirt. When he approached, she looked up at him, puzzled.

Seeing Su Ming'an approach, she expressed a soft "Ah?", akin to a confused cat.

But this time, Su Ming'an couldn't smile.

"Why did you come here?" Su Ming'an squatted down, brushing the dirt off her skirt. She shouldn't be running around recklessly.

"..." The girl gazed at him with dim purple eyes for a long moment, her pupils starting to shimmer with a bluish-green light, like cancer cells inside her body.

"I know this is your rest period. But next time let me know before you run out, or I'll think something went wrong." Su Ming'an wiped her hands, but the bluish-green trace wouldn't come clean, like a deeply embedded virus mark. He forced a bitter smile.

He could almost see the approaching clouds and fog, with the train on the verge of plunging in.

Yet she offered no response, didn't smile at him as she used to, nor called him "little cloud".

She merely held his hand, approaching like a cat would, eyelashes so close that they almost touched his pupils.

"You are…" she asked, bewildered:

"Who?"

In that moment, the tracks in Su Ming'an's heart collapsed.

He looked back at her, equally bewildered, thinking he had misheard, until his ears confirmed her words — she was asking him, who are you?

…Who am I?

He gripped her hand tightly, pressing it little by little against his forehead. The pose was not one of a deity showing mercy to a believer, but rather a believer in prayer.

In that instant, staring into her bewildered eyes, he thought of Yuanyuan trapped in the red soil and near death, with similarly unclear eyes and irreversible loss.

But Su Luoluo had no miracle of thirty-three cycles, and he couldn't save her either.

"...Stop it, Su Luoluo."

He trembled for a while, then finally said.

Stop it.

You have Causality Authority, but this should not be your Destiny.

Our Perfect Pass has nothing to do with you, it's unnecessary.

Su Luoluo blinked, her Divine Wisdom briefly returning. She told Su Ming'an a story, one she made up.

"There was a skilled craftsman who carved a nightingale out of wood. The nightingale was lifelike, gradually gaining its own thoughts. But the only pity was that the nightingale was made of wood, even if it could move, it had no heart."

"It wanted to live in the forest but found the forest had long turned into a steel jungle, with no trees or flowers. It wanted to return home, but unexpectedly saw a beautiful girl. The nightingale loved beautiful things and followed the girl home."

"The girl was skilled at painting and liked the nightingale, painting forests it longed to see for it, painting vast rivers, the azure sky, and blooming flowers…"

"But for reasons unknown, the girl often fainted clutching her chest. The nightingale overheard a word from other humans — 'heart disease'. It didn't know what that was and asked the girl. The girl said she had a problem with her heart."

"What is a heart? The nightingale didn't understand."

"The girl said, the heart is the symbol of life, the symbol of emotion. With a heart, humans can freely laugh and sorrowfully cry. The heart is the source of all sensibility and art."

"The nightingale pleaded with the girl, it also wanted a heart. It never experienced the love the girl described, even when seeing the forest in paintings, it only found it pretty without other emotions."

"Then the girl painted a heart for the nightingale…"

Su Ming'an listened, but suddenly Su Luoluo began to breathe heavily.

Her condition worsened again. Su Ming'an had no choice but to take her back.

After the door closed, Su Ming'an stood outside, with the bluish light extending his Shadow long.

"Four days left… four days…" he reminded himself.

You will have to leave in the end, some Destinies are already sealed.

After that, Su Luoluo began to suffer more frequent mental breakdowns. Even though they were close, she would disappear without warning. Although he could quickly find her each time, he always felt a pang of anxiety. Her disappearances became more frequent, and his searches increased. They agreed to call this escape and search "hide and seek", using a playful term to disguise the cruelty of the action.

But patience slowly ebbed away, and he gradually grew weary until Su Luoluo proposed locking her room.

That would be a once-and-for-all solution.

…How would that be different from being a prisoner?

Su Ming'an looked at the tightly shut door, the key slipping from his hand to the floor. He even began to question why he should bear such a burden, standing by helplessly as she slid into the abyss, and why he should personally lock her up, like caring for an Alzheimer's patient. Initially, they had merely started as a simple acquaintance over a cup of milk.

But he quickly suppressed his thoughts.

"Bang bang!" came the sound of pounding from inside the door, immediately followed by her heart-wrenching cries. She had another episode.

"Let me go! Please let me go! Little Cloud… God! Please let me go! I don't want to continue; I don't want to be mailed razors, cyber-bullied, insulted… I beg you… I want to go to school… I want my mom… I don't want to transmigrate anymore…"

He nearly couldn't restrain himself from lifting his hand, the key right in his palm — but even the suggestion of locking up was her own.

Everything was her own thought, her reluctance to give up, her desire to save more people… and it was she who said — [if I want to give up, don't let me escape.]

…Lock me up, confine me, force me. Don't waste my Causality Authority.

This was what she said herself.

He also promised her that if she, this coward, wanted to turn back, not to let her. Especially since this was just another episode; when she regained clarity, she would still continue.

He wasn't forcing her, just faithfully fulfilling the promise they had made by shaking hands. So… the key wouldn't fit in the lock, nor would the tightly shut cell door open.

"... You should get some sleep. When you wake up, you'll be better." Su Ming'an's fingers tightened slightly, but he still placed the key back into his backpack slot.

"I beg you... let me go... I'm just a coward... don't scold me, don't hate me..." A hoarse and almost desperate cry came from the girl inside the door, her condition was very serious, her throat nearly torn by sobs:

"Su Ming'an... why won't you let me go... let me go..."

Su Ming'an gritted his teeth and endured, then turned and left.

...

He had a dream.

In his dream, he was lying among an endless field of sunflowers, rolling around carelessly. Sunlight warmed his face.

Beneath him was moist soil. He touched it and began to dig downward.

He didn't even know what he was digging for; dreams lack logic—he only felt like digging.

Bit by bit, the soil was pushed to the sides, and he dug up something hard—a medal adorned with stars, belonging to Mr. Wang, a dedicated and excellent citizen at the Observatory. It bore stains of blood and was likely caressed repeatedly by hands.

He couldn't quite recall the story behind this medal and continued digging.

The soil caved in slightly, and he unearthed a bunny hair tie. He paused for a moment, unable to recall its story; its owner should be far away from him now...

As the soil continuously pushed outward, the things he unearthed increased.

A cross pendant with a frosty aura.

A lemon candy, reflecting multicolored light.

A black bird sculpture, its surface smooth as if stroked many times.

A sunflower, bright gold, carrying a sunny scent.

A tomato, fresh and moist.

A Spring Heart Cookie, still giving off fragrance despite the dirt.

Like a treasure-hunting giant dragon, Su Ming'an dug nonstop, uncovering various items.

A flute, the corpse of a white bird, a lotus, ice, ginkgo leaves, a Cursed Fire Flower, a red rose, a knight's sword, a tulip, a ruby necklace, a feather pen...

Finally, his fingers paused upon viewing a massive object standing in the dirt.

... how did he manage to dig out a piano?

He stared at the piano absentmindedly, suddenly hearing a call.

"—God!"

The voice was somewhat unfamiliar, likely belonging to the transmigrators. They always revered him by calling his name and then turning away. All he could do was repeatedly pick up the pen and cross out their names.

He turned his head, expecting to see dazzling smiles, soldiers showing genuine smiles—

However, all he saw were graves stretched across the mountains.

Keys, peace charms, longevity locks, photos, shell bracelets... These items piled behind him like small protruding hills. He gazed at them blankly for a while, as the voices calling him still emerged from these "relics".

Suddenly, he understood why he heard these voices—they died for civilization, and he was the God of civilization, thus he ought to hear their sorrow.

... it turned out there were so many already.

He paused for a while, beginning to bury each nameplate from the top, the soil he once pushed aside gradually being buried again. Louyue's laughter, the whistle of steam, the witch's sigh, cries from the human world... all were buried beneath as snow fell above.

Those who passed could not see the end of time, the doom of the Ark; all they saw were the last grains of sand, wine and swords on the battlefield, and soil slipping between Su Ming'an's fingers onto their nonexistent hair.

While burying them, he would occasionally be touched by memories, remember the owners of these relics. Then he would speak softly to the relics, reminiscing about fleeting encounters. Though these people viewed him as an unoffendable God, there were fleeting moments of genuine emotion.

"..."

"..."

He spoke to himself for quite a while, chatting about year 0 of the Heavenly Era with the twin Gods in the sky, year 1's time-travel, year 2's Judgment, year 3's thanksgiving letter campaign...

Until a gust of wind swept past.

He buried everything, including the cross, the black bird... While burying the piano, he watched the soil gradually sink, feeling as if he was burying his own self.

He stood still for a long time, as a faint sunrise rose in the distance, and the snow stopped.

No more sounds reached his ears.

It was as if, at the moment the sun rose, people quietly slept underground.

...

When he woke up, he saw a sharp blade.

An attractive young man sat beside the bed, holding a sharp blade to his neck. The red and blue earrings in the young man's ears swayed lightly, and blood-red pattern marks glowed on his skin.

It was Xue Qixia.

Su Ming'an calmly looked at Xue Qixia. He didn't know what player skill Xue Qixia used to barge in, nor did he know Xue Qixia's intentions.

"Number One Player, I want you to sign a contract with me." Xue Qixia, noticing Su Ming'an's calmness, never expected him to remain composed despite facing the instant death rule.

"What contract?" Su Ming'an remained calm.

"Mizushima Kawa Sora came looking for you. You're surely planning to target the Ancient Martial Families; I cannot allow you to act freely." Xue Qixia pulled out an item: "Sign this item, become my unbreakable ally, and I will spare you."

"So that's been your reason for targeting me all along." Su Ming'an said, "You're... afraid of being reckoned with, you're afraid of dying."

Xue Qixia's brow twitched slightly, saying flatly, "I don't want to be your enemy, but I don't want to be reckoned with because of baseless hatred, either. Thus, I choose to strike first. I just want to survive—sign it, and we'll act as if nothing happened."

"You threaten me with a game item—aren't you afraid I'll reckon with you after the game ends?" Su Ming'an asked.

"Forgive me, I'll be frank." Xue Qixia said, "I didn't think you'd survive until the game's end; you'll either die midway or at the final hour. I don't see the slightest will to live in your eyes."

He placed the item in front of Su Ming'an's eyes.

Su Ming'an's gaze slanted away.

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