Boom! "
A pale flash of lightning tore through the inky black sky of the rainy night, instantly illuminating two equally pale faces in the courtyard, both bearing the enormous pressure of fate.
In the pale light, Ye Qingliu clearly saw the bottomless fatigue in Mu Xinrong's eyes, the tenacity honed by countless betrayals and despair, and the last faint flame called "trust" that was like a candle in the wind but still burning stubbornly!
Will he choose the cold, eternally correct duty of an observer? Or will he choose to embrace the warm bond and trust bestowed upon him by these vibrant lives on this world line?
Formatting or clearing... or...
The observer's torrent of memories and Ye Qingliu's fiery emotions reached a climax of conflict under this thunder!
The images of countless collapsing world lines were madly intertwined with the smiling faces of friends on this world line. Qi Shang's twisted laughter overlapped with Hua Jinyue's hot tears. Chao Youye's indifference to destruction was contrasted with the warmth of his hand when he held Mu Xinrong's hand at this moment.
"Ah--!" Ye Qingliu suddenly hugged his head and let out a painful roar. His body shook violently in the cold rainstorm, as if he would be crushed by the soul-tearing pain and the choice of fate at any time.
Mu Xinrong held an umbrella and stood quietly in the rain, the rain flowing along the edge of the umbrella to form a curtain of water in front of him.
He didn't say anything else, but just watched Ye Qingliu struggling in pain quietly. In those eyes that had contained countless world lines, there was compassion, understanding, waiting, and a calmness that was almost cruel.
He knew that the answer could only be given by Ye Qingliu himself.
This concerns the final direction of this "last world line".
Time seemed to freeze amidst the deafening roar of thunder and rain, and every second seemed to stretch out infinitely.
finally--
Under the illumination of another lightning that tore through the night sky, Ye Qingliu slowly and with great difficulty raised his head.
The rain washed his pale face, and his hair stuck to his forehead wetly, looking disheveled.
He raised his hand, his trembling fingers whitened by rain, and slowly and firmly took off the pair of silver-rimmed glasses on his nose that symbolized a certain distance and rationality.
“Pah.”
The glasses fell onto the cold, wet stone slabs at his feet, and the lenses were instantly covered with muddy water.
For the first time, Ye Qingliu's gaze met Mu Xinrong's eyes, which had been filled with the memory of countless years, so clearly and unobstructed.
The rain slid down his angular cheeks and flowed over his tightly pursed thin lips.
Deep in those gray-blue eyes, the observer's cold sea of stars was violently collapsing and annihilating, replaced by a scorching and resolute light like a volcanic eruption.
He spoke, his voice hoarse, but with a determination to sever all shackles and burn all bridges. It pierced through the pattering rain and rolling thunder, and clearly struck Mu Xinrong's heart:
“This time…”
He paused, each word like a branding iron squeezed out from the depths of his soul, hot and heavy:
"I choose you."
Not the observer Ye Qingliu.
It is a clear stream at night.
Choose his sister Hua Jinyue, choose his girlfriend Bai Zhiye, choose Ning Xiwan and Duan Shuce who raised him as their son, and choose Mu Xinrong, the man in front of him who has traveled through countless worlds and is scarred but still chooses to trust him.
Even... choosing Chao Youye, who was as cold as the god of rules himself, but seemed to have a glimmer of different possibilities on this line!
Choose this final, vibrant world line filled with the dangerous variable of "love"!
Mu Xinrong's hand, holding the umbrella, trembled slightly. Rainwater flowed down the edge of the umbrella, splashing a small amount of water at his feet.
In his eyes that had seen countless reincarnations, the last ray of fragile hope, like a candle in the wind, was like being injected with boiling lava in Ye Qingliu's resolute declaration, and suddenly burst into a bright and dazzling light.
He slowly, extremely slowly, smiled at Ye Qingliu.
That smile was no longer the carefree and brilliant one that belonged to the "little sun" Mu Xinrong, but it carried traces of tears, the weight of endless years, the great joy of regaining what was lost, and a sense of relief of finally finding the way home.
Complex, yet incredibly real and warm.
"Okay." Mu Xinrong only whispered a single word. His voice was light, yet it carried a weight of a thousand pounds.
This one word represents a reconciliation across countless world lines, and is the complete trust given to this final world line.
He held up the umbrella, took a step forward, and used most of the umbrella to cover Ye Qingliu's head, who was still standing in the heavy rain.
The cold rain was isolated, leaving only the narrow and warm space under the umbrella, and the warm current flowing silently between the two people, which was enough to fight against the entire cold universe.
Ye Qingliu stood under the umbrella, letting Mu Xinrong approach. The cold rain dripped down his hair and hit his shoulders.
He raised his head slightly, his gray-blue eyes looking through the edge of the umbrella into the depths of the inky black sky where thunderstorms were still raging and electric snakes were dancing wildly.
The observer's memory fragments did not disappear, they sank into the deep sea of consciousness like cold cornerstones.
The threat from Qi Shang, the fragility of the world line, the uncontrollability of Chao Youye as the embodiment of rules, and the unknown risks brought about by the activated variable of "love"...all of these are like a sword hanging over one's head.
But at this moment, Mu Xinrong standing beside him, the real body temperature and the small dry space under the umbrella that was isolated from the heavy rain, were like the strongest anchor, nailing him firmly to this coordinate point called "now".
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