Yet for some reason, there was no courage to push open that door.

And the craftsman seemed as if it had nothing to do with him, standing far away, still gazing into Hell.

"Do you know? There was once a story in ancient times."

The illusion suddenly said, "In the story, the gods gave a box to a little girl, asking her to keep it well and not to open it."

"..."

Lv Yingyue turned around, looking at him with inexplicable expression.

"Yes, that's right, according to the general plot of stories, it's like this." The craftsman sighed softly: "When a gun appears in the first act, it will inevitably go off later on...

If the gods entrust a box to the ignorant mortals, then the mortals will surely open it."

"And so the things inside the box came out."

"Disaster, despair, plague, terror, misfortune… turned the whole world into its current state."

Under the reflection of the ruins, no expression could be seen on that vague face, impossible to discern whether it was compassion or mockery.

He suddenly asked, "Do you think the mortals were wrong?"

Lv Yingyue remained silent for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Since they knew the mortals might open it, why give the box to mortals?"

"Yes, gods are arrogant and tyrannical, always sending down irresistible trials and suffering."

"But mortals also made a mistake."

"Her mistake wasn't in opening the box, but in the end… closing it."

"So when all disasters and sufferings swept over, hope alone remained in that box, deeply buried in darkness, never appearing in this world…"

The craftsman sighed gently, and looked at her: "Don't you think it's a good story?"

"So what?"

Lv Yingyue retorted, "What's so good about it? What's the meaning?"

"Don't place hope in the foresight of gods, don't expect the wisdom of men to be profound, nor count on… the so-called suffering and despair to have an end."

The craftsman paused, sighed lightly, "Most importantly, be wary of the 'box'.

Boom!!!

As if the earth cracked with upheaval from afar, on the horizon, the fractured clouds dropped the last flicker of flame light, but mid-air, the shattered flame light just vanished.

The Flame Tide surged mightily, flowing eastwards into the sea.

Leaving only the last echo of Destruction, reverberating in everyone's ears.

"Now, perhaps the box has appeared before you, Lv Yingyue."

The craftsman informed her: "Time is running out."

He said, "You have to make a choice."

When disasters come like a tide and go as they please, what has been left in its wake?

At this moment, is it hope singing, or the unburnt consequences?

Even if one can fortunately survive, amid such massive Destruction, it's long been seared deeply.

Perhaps one day, the ashes will reignite, and then greater calamities will inevitably be unleashed once more. And everything at this moment will ultimately sink into the Vortex, unable to extricate…

Now, do you want to open it?

Or destroy it, once and for all, forever removing the threat!

The craftsman quietly waited.

Lv Yingyue no longer spoke.

She pushed the door open and entered.

At that moment, the singing ceased.

In the derailed, broken carriage, among countless remnants, only one last shattered silhouette remained. Like an overly fragile bubble and illusion, so ephemeral.

In the dead silence, Lv Yingyue drew her sword.

Step by step, she advanced.

Until that silhouette finally turned back, looking at the bladed visitor.

Which made Lv Yingyue freeze in place.

On the ash-covered pale face, was filled with compassion and gentleness.

Such eyes bore no resentment or pain, simply gazed peacefully, but in the reflection, Lv Yingyue, covered in blood and scorch marks, seemed like the real monster.

There was a sound of breaking.

The fissures silently spread over that face, climbing, gradually enveloping the whole body. Those long-overdue Destruction and death finally arrived.

No, it was more like, actively facing the end.

Without any hesitation.

"Thank you for your hard work."

She gave one last smile, full of gratitude, holding the treasure exchanged for abandoning everything, offering it to Lv Yingyue.

Lv Yingyue instinctively wanted to retreat.

But before that, involuntarily… reached out her hand.

Thus, witnessing the last remnant amidst the disaster, silently disappearing.

Turning to ashes.

No, one more.

She looked down, gazing into her arms, at the dying child wrapped in a fireproof blanket, the sword in her hand trembled silently.

Isn't it enough?

Enough people have died today, so what if one less?

But…

The world is desolate, filled only with pain, so what does it matter to have one more?

In that moment, Lv Yingyue closed her eyes.

The blade swung down!

In the silence, there was no more song.

After a long time, Lv Yingyue finally staggered out from the burnt carriage.

"The disaster has been eradicated, sir."

Her eyes lowered, she hoarsely reported, "The mission is perfectly accomplished."

The craftsman nodded, looking at the child on her back, full of doubt.

"Who is this?"

"An innocent child, that's all..." Lv Yingyue sneered, "Afflicted by a curse of natural disaster, even if he survives, he probably won't live long."

"I understand."

The craftsman seemed to smile, unclear whether it was mocking or approving, but he did not raise any objections or orders.

"Then let it be."

He said, "I will write the report like this."

Thus, in the silence and quiet, Lv Yingyue staggered forward, crossing over burnt soil and ashes, step by step walking out of Hell, crossing over the quarantine line.

In a chaos, an anxious voice arose.

"Survivor, survivor!!!"

"Hurry, there's another one here!"

Amid the surrounding medical staff, the rescue began, noisy and complicated, but soon after, it quickly returned to silence.

When Lv Yingyue pushed open the door, she only saw the leading doctor shake his head.

"Too late, Captain Lv..."

The doctor said, "There's no heartbeat anymore."

"..."

Lv Yingyue's lips trembled, dazed, she instinctively waved her hand, not knowing what gesture to make, wearily turning to walk out.

She looked at the still-flaming ground.

She wanted to roar and scream, but no sound came out.

But in that moment, it seemed a cry did rise.

Hoarse and intermittent.

Like a newborn baby.

On the operating table, the child who should have been dead opened his eyes, groggy and confused, as if walking from one long painful dream into another nightmare.

And so, the heartbeat resumed.

In the illusion-like receding song, he lost consciousness again, with only tears uncontrollably flowing out.

.

.

"Is this a mistake?"

At the edge of the blockade, Lv Yingyue asked wearily.

"Who knows?" The illusion of the craftsman said, "Perhaps you've already opened that box."

"What has come out then? Suffering or despair?"

So, the craftsman turned back, looking at her, with deep meaning:

"Think optimistically, perhaps it's hope?"

"..."

Lv Yingyue closed her eyes.

"'Please, Gods, take that box back,' Your Excellency Heavenly Furnace, the little girl must have thought so originally. People shouldn't go through such choices and trials.

Or, let the box see all this and choose for itself—"

—What is given to this world, is it hope or ruin.

Heavenly Furnace remained silent.

Before dispersing, in the final silence, he gazed at the reappearing stars in the night sky.

"The wind has come."

He sighed softly, extending his hand as if to grasp something, yet the fingertips of the illusionary hand held nothing, unable to touch the ethereal breeze, or perhaps, what is called destiny.

Great winds rise from the ends of the green duckweed.

Perhaps the heavenly destiny has already descended.

From this moment, the forging of embers begins…

.

.

Ji Jue had a dream.

He dreamed of things past, yet could not remember clearly.

Flames, smoke, scorched ground, a sky turned red, the world appeared like a cracked glass orb, wailing and shattering in the Melting Furnace.

At the end of the dream, he saw an endless abyssal sea.

He didn't know how long it lasted, as if thousands of years had passed, at the deepest part of the ocean, a wisp of flame silently emerged.

From the dead ashes, an old flame rekindled.

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