"Who are you?" Wang Shouren hesitated for a moment before walking over.
Having lived to this age, there's really nothing to hesitate about. I've already disregarded life and death, so what else is there to care about?
"After all these years, you've forgotten me?"
Wang Shouren sat down and turned his head to see who this person was.
But he couldn't see anything, he could only vaguely make out that it was a human figure.
Upon closer inspection, it was still a blurry mess.
This made him even more confused.
He turned to look at the television, hoping it could give him some clues.
He paused for a moment when he saw the television.
The television was showing him lying in bed, with two other people standing beside him, an old man and an old woman.
It's just Wang Ruiming and Wang Xirou.
Wang Shouren looked the blurry figure up and down and asked, "You are...the system..."
Yes, he has another system.
Since he transmigrated here, he has had this system, which also gave him the Tai Chi (Grandmaster) skill and a space.
Later on, he rarely used that space anymore. As for the skill, it had become ingrained in his memory, a part of him. And the system, for the last time, issued a mission…
"If I remember correctly, the last time you appeared was at the end of 1980... After that, you never appeared again. So you're still around."
"Yes, I've always been here." The system's voice was strange, like a processed electronic voice, which sounded rather novel.
"What? Am I going to die?"
"Hmm, yes and no." The system's tone was a bit strange: "You're quite an oddball. The Tai Chi (Grandmaster) skill I gave you actually came from Zhang Sanfeng. You know Zhang Sanfeng, right? He's the guy who tried to cultivate immortality in the Dharma-ending Age. But in his era, there was such a thing as internal energy, using internal energy to communicate with the gods. It's a way, just a bit more difficult."
"As for you, you also managed to forge your own path while on the verge of death."
"So, does this mean I'm cultivating immortality? Am I about to shatter the void?" Even if I'm old, so old that I don't want to live anymore, if I can still cultivate immortality, then that's another story.
"No, this is just to get you to come see me."
Wang Shouren: ...
"This is already quite remarkable," the figure remarked. "I am like a four-dimensional being. No matter how three-dimensional beings imagine or calculate, they will never be able to see me. But you, in a sense, have achieved a dimensional ascension."
"So, what does my life really represent?" Wang Shouren didn't care about anything about ascending to a higher dimension.
Does it matter?
The sight of the figure startled Wang Shouren.
He chuckled softly: "Indeed, it's not that important."
"How about we watch TV together? That's much better than your dubious idea."
"Forget it. Things that are too easy to obtain are never cherished."
"So, would you like to go outside and have a chat?" The figure pointed at the guy on the TV again.
"No, let's leave it at that." Wang Shouren let out a long breath, as if he were exhaling all the oxygen he had ever breathed in his life.
Gradually, a white light shone down on him, and his entire body began to gradually transform into specks of light, merging into the pristine white room.
The picture on the television screen suddenly stopped.
The figure sitting in front of the television sighed softly, snapped his fingers, and slowly disappeared.
the next day.
Wang Xirou and Wang Ruiming then received a phone call informing them of Wang Shouren's passing.
There was no grand funeral as one might have imagined. A few people simply held a funeral in accordance with Wang Shouren's will.
He lay silently in the coffin, just like an ordinary old man.
Even though Wang Xirou was quite old, her eyes were red from crying.
In the end, all her elders in this world had left her.
A sense of bewilderment and helplessness washed over her. She wished the old man lying inside could open his eyes and scold her, telling her she was annoying. But from the moment he lay there quietly until the moment he was pushed into the incinerator, no miracle occurred.
Wang Ruiming held Wang Xirou's hand as he watched his father being engulfed in flames.
He let out a soft sigh.
Many people believe that when someone passes away, many people will mourn them.
In fact, no.
Only a few "groups" issued a eulogy, letting people know that such a person existed in this world. No matter how outstanding one's achievements are in life, it is actually difficult to leave even a single word in history. Perhaps, in later generations, when people look through the files of those events, they will discover that such a person exists.
But for most netizens, it was just a matter of curiosity.
Wow, this person has lived for so long.
By the way, I can sigh and say that it's good to be rich, or I can cynically curse the rich people.
That's all.
In this world, no one cares how others are doing.
Only you care about how you are doing.
Just like Wang Shouren at the last moment of his life.
I met the legendary system.
That question yet to be asked—was my life already predetermined?
And the system's answer—does that matter?
Does that matter?
That's not important.
The process is what matters.
This process is filled with joy and pleasure, but also tension and reluctance, and even more so with sorrow, grief, and regret.
All sorts of things, all sorts of emotions, make up his life; he could say his life is complete. As for the system's existence, and why it resides in his mind, and what that white room is...
Wang Shouren didn't care.
He was about to leave.
He has already fulfilled his responsibilities.
He felt it was time for him to get a proper rest.
Lingshan
Wang Ruiming and Wang Xirou directed the younger generation to sweep the tombs.
This is a large joint burial tomb. In front of the tombstone, the male owner has only one name, while the female owner has four names.
“They are finally reunited…” Wang Xirou looked at the tombstone with a complicated expression and placed a bouquet of flowers in front of it.
"Grandpa, why did Great-Grandpa have four wives? Was he a scumbag?" a little girl asked her grandfather innocently.
"Don't talk nonsense!" The girl's mother awkwardly pulled the little girl away and scolded her.
This is indeed a difficult question to answer.
Everyone has left, and a gentle breeze blows by.
The wind scattered the flowers placed before the tombstone; the petals rose slowly and then gently fell. It was just like the dazzling fireworks the five of them had seen that day.
(End of article)
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