Chapter 524 The End of the Wandering Soul
The true identity of the wandering spirit is actually sandalwood.
In the apocalypse, there is a possibility of encountering my past self or my future self. Although I am not entirely unprepared for this, witnessing it actually happen, even if it doesn't happen to me but to someone around me, still gives me a dizzying feeling and gives me a completely new perspective on the chaos of the apocalypse.
Then, I recalled his earlier instructions to the sandalwood, and connected them with the clue that "Xiao Wan will resolve the crisis after the wandering soul regains its memory," which led to a speculation.
"Could it be that the place you directed Tanxiang to was the survivor settlement where Xiaowan stayed when you parted ways?" I asked.
To avoid confusion with the previously departed Sandalwood, I will continue to refer to the man in front of me as "Wandering Soul." After nodding, he said, "Yes, at this point in time, I—Sandalwood—will arrive at that place after we part ways, and, at my request, hand over the cartographer's map to the person wearing the black cloak."
"This person is Xiaowan. To avoid being discovered as a wanted person by the Gospel House, she covered her face with a hood. I wrote marks and letters on the cartographer's map, and she will follow the map to meet you here."
"And the survivors that Sandalwood will join after being introduced by my letter belong to the Gospel House's forces. He will experience repeated loss and growth through a series of twists and turns and painful experiences. After the Tai Sui's forces suffer a devastating blow, he will leave the Gospel House and in the distant future become me—becoming a lonely ghost wandering on the land of the apocalypse."
"Until I was saved by a girl named Xiaowan in a life-or-death situation, I embarked on the last journey of my life, and then met you, and my past self... Finally, here I send my past self on the same journey, and meet the end of my life."
The wandering spirit recited the story slowly, as if it were telling someone else's past, but it was by no means a story unrelated to him; rather, it was his own cyclical fate.
"Why did you do this? Your choice itself constitutes this absurd cycle, and if you hadn't sent the sandalwood away in this way, this fate wouldn't have happened, right?" I asked.
“The little bowl not only saved my life, but also helped me fulfill my last wish. Since my choice can help her escape danger, then naturally I should do it.” The wandering spirit said nonchalantly, “Besides, I was already a person who was about to die. I was just sending my past self down the same path as myself. From the perspective of ‘my present self,’ what kind of price is that?”
Is this some kind of alternative "better to die than to die"? I was stumped by his logic.
“Furthermore, if we let him stay by your side, or let him find his own way out, he will eventually die without a burial place.” The wandering spirit continued, “He is, after all, my past self. I sent him away not only to help Xiaowan, but also to show him a way to survive.”
I countered, "But isn't your wish death? To let your past self die sooner might be a bad ending for others, but it should be a good ending for you, right?"
“My wish is not to die, but to remember who I am and then die. But ultimately, my true wish is the same as Sandalwood’s,” he said wistfully. “He wanted to escape this era of suffering, he wanted to go home… and so did I. But I have already given up on that wish myself.”
"It wasn't because I reached the end and finally hit a wall I couldn't reach; it was because the road was too long and too arduous, with no end in sight and no way to see where I came from. I was truly exhausted, so I gave up..."
Even though I've regained my memories of the past, I still can't clearly picture what my home looks like. As long as I can see hope of returning, I'll go there no matter what it takes. I'm willing to do anything. But I can no longer hold onto hope.
"He is the complete opposite of me. Although he is naive and fragile at heart, he at least still has hope. So maybe he still has a chance to walk a different path from me."
Perhaps this is the biggest reason why he pointed out a way for sandalwood to survive.
As long as I can see hope of returning, I will go there at all costs—his words seemed to touch a corner of my heart.
Return, return... and attracting the strange, jinxed power...
I kept repeating it to myself, feeling like I was trying to grasp some clue, but I didn't know how to express that feeling.
“Even if I can’t return to where I came from, I want to know where I came from. I want to die with that awareness,” the wandering spirit said. “At least I want to remember… I’m not from this godforsaken place, I don’t belong here…”
As he spoke, his voice grew weaker and weaker. I could clearly sense that his life force was rapidly draining away, and his soul was fading. I couldn't discern what force was causing this, only that death was undeniably approaching. This was the price of ingesting the Three-Life Stone Powder; he was about to die.
"Do you have any last words, or anything you want me to do?" I asked.
"No. I've done everything I needed to do, and I've let go of everything I wanted to do. I feel completely at peace now."
The focus in the wandering spirit's eyes was slowly fading. He sat on the ground, gazing at the completely dark apocalyptic sky, as if searching for something with increasingly unfocused eyes.
“Ah…but there’s one last thing…” he said, “Could you please pass on a message to Xiaowan for me? Just say…thank you for granting my wish…”
“I will,” I said.
"Thanks……"
The wandering spirit lowered its head, slowly closed its eyes, and stopped breathing completely.
He died.
He did not reveal his real name until the very last moment.
When Tanxiang first met with me and the cartographer, he avoided revealing his true background by using the online nickname "Tanxiang." This was a clever way to conceal his identity and avoid disaster. But could his true motive be a resistance to the apocalyptic world?
In the modern world, people can use different identities—real and virtual—to navigate both online and offline worlds, displaying different social personalities and possessing different social circles. As long as one doesn't act according to their true identity, they can draw a line between themselves and the world around them, avoiding true integration into this inexplicably terrifying place. Whether consciously or unconsciously, perhaps this sentiment exists within Tanxiang's heart.
This resistance even became his greatest weapon after he became a blessed monk.
As long as the other party doesn't know your true identity, you can recover from any harm you suffer, and even death can be rejected with your own heart.
However, the more a blessed cultivator desires something, the less likely they are to obtain it. Sandalwood, who resisted the apocalypse, ultimately died in the apocalypse, and even his future self will send him back into this endless cycle of reincarnation.
The "selves from different times" encountered in the apocalypse often possess pathological personalities and will lead them to a devastating end... Could it be that the situation between the wandering spirit and the sandalwood also coincides with what the cartographer said before his death?
In a while, Little Bowl will arrive at this place, so it's best to stay put and not leave unnecessarily. While pondering whether to bury or cremate the wandering soul, I found a stone of suitable size and shape nearby to use as a stool and sat down. Then I placed the blessing lantern at my feet and silently waited for Little Bowl's arrival.
I don't know how much time had passed; there was no clock nearby, and the night remained unchanged. The longer I stayed in this apocalyptic era, the more blurred my sense of time became. My contact with the wandering spirits and the sandalwood incense intensified this chaotic experience. It felt like two or three hours had passed. During that time, a few strange creatures groped out of the darkness and attempted to attack, but I easily eliminated them all.
A faint sound came again from the darkness in the distance. This time it wasn't strange, but rather the sound of humans. Footsteps too light for an adult to be heard; it was the sound of a child's feet crunching on the dirt.
A moment later, that small figure came into my view.
(End of this chapter)
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