Chapter 115 The Hunchbacked Shadow (2)
After a long silence in the room, Arcia reached out and pushed the box on the table. It was decorated with brightly colored patterns and had four large, cursive characters written on it.
Secret Love
She took a familiar-looking chip out of the box and said softly, "Their surveillance is too tight. I can hardly act alone during the day. I'll make do with this modified chip."
Shu Ningmiao's gaze was fixed on the box, almost unable to look away.
She couldn't find the game on the market because it wasn't released until two years later.
...This chip couldn't have appeared out of nowhere, so Arsia must have had this planned in advance.
“As you said, I didn’t agree to your unreasonable request for the sake of a friend.” Arcia turned her face away, not wanting to look at him: “There is a person in this world who is favored by the will of the world. This person was born with a special sensitivity to strings, which is the ‘protagonist’ in the common sense. But people are uncontrollable. Nourished by Pandora, manipulating time, it has been completely distorted in an uncontrollable direction, abusing this powerful force to drive the world toward destruction. The will of the world hopes that someone can resist it.”
Shu Ningmiao recalled Achini's contradictory lies, and everything suddenly became clear.
There is usually only one "protagonist," and this person is neither her nor Erice, but the owner of the shadow that appeared in her consciousness for no reason.
This person created Achini and indirectly murdered her. The story should have ended there, but now, because of her resurrection, she is entangled with this person again.
“Xian told me that as a foundation stone that once existed in the northern polar region, you are a special existence.” Arcia paused. “I know a point in time when my brother had a Crimson Palace Stone that was about to be stolen. If we can pinpoint that point in time, we can let her body absorb the Crimson Palace Stone. The person who steals it will not dare to make a big fuss, and its disappearance will not have a great impact.”
Shu Ningmiao subconsciously touched her chest. It turned out that the No. 03 Crimson Palace Stone, which caused Weston to be questioned and demoted and mysteriously disappeared, was originally inside her body!
"The string that changes time, the crimson stone containing a lot of Pandora's stone, and you who are about to become the past constitute the three most important things in this world, and she who will not be cowardly enough to get lost in the flow of the string."
Arcia held up the chip: "Reconstruct the concept of a world, and then create an entity that can control strings and time, and thus contend with it."
She leaned down, placed the chip in the girl's hand, and then tightly closed her fingers one by one.
“This chip carries a string of energy.” Arcia whispered, “It must be placed on her to restrain and protect her. Starting over, her power needs guidance—I can hear the voice of the string and ask for its assistance. In return, that person can also control the string and restrain me. To prevent him from tampering with the contents, I have made the guiding chip as basic as possible to avoid any ambiguity.”
"This is the only chance."
Arcia looked up, her gaze involuntarily falling on her again: "When it comes to a habitual offender of time, if you miss this opportunity, you'll never have another chance."
“Actually, I can’t say anymore, but…” Arcia’s voice was soft and delicate: “I miss her very much too.”
She paused, her lips moving silently: "Go quickly."
Without the slightest hesitation, Shu Changyan picked up Shu Ningmiao around the waist, carried her out the window, and disappeared silently into the rain.
A few minutes later, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground suddenly rang out in the corridor, various alarms sounded, the lights were on, and the rain mixed with the mud at the entrance of the sanatorium, covering everything cleanly, leaving no footprints.
So they searched around the sanatorium, only to return home disappointed.
A few stars were silently scattered across the sky, and there was no other light.
In this remote and desolate place, the only place to shelter from the rain was a dilapidated clock tower. Shu Changyan put his arm around her and sat her down under the clock tower, watching the rain streaking out in the hazy darkness.
The rain gradually stopped, but then tiny, almost invisible snowflakes drifted down, melting into the muddy water.
Shu Ningmiao felt a chill run down her spine and could only try to turn her consciousness over, unwilling to look at Shu Changyan's expression at that moment.
She didn't want to know what his expression was like, as if her eyes were too sore to see clearly; it was too strange.
Her hands were wet and cold, but Shu Changyan still held on to her, refusing to let go.
After a long silence, she heard a ripping sound, but when she turned her head, she only saw the back of his head with his black, shoulder-length hair tied up.
Shu Changyan turned his back and then back, pulling out a sparkler from somewhere. He lit it, leaned closer with his calm and composed expression, a slight smile playing on his lips, and waved it in front of her.
Suddenly, a golden-red sparkle bloomed in the pitch-black environment, and sparks poured down from this dazzling flower, brighter than the stardust falling from the sky, so striking that they stung her eyes.
Using the trace left by the spark, Shu Changyan drew her a little bird with its mouth open, chirping. Then he started drawing ovals stacked together that looked a bit like droppings, and burning candles. She couldn't understand what he was feeding the bird.
Through the fireworks, Shu Ningmiao could vaguely see the changes in his lips. Her mind was filled with a buzzing tinnitus and the crackling of the sparks, and she couldn't hear anything else.
Wisps of smoke, carrying the scent of gunpowder, quickly dissipated into the air, lingering around her nose with a warm, damp smell.
Shu Ningmiao couldn't remember the fleeting warmth, only the biting cold of the snow mixed with rain falling, and his soft, gentle voice whispering in her ear.
She frowned slightly, then wrinkled her nose, staring at the night sky with almost hatred, resentful of the entire earth—why is it snowing at this time of year!
The ashes of the spark drifted onto his hand in the wind, and Shu Changyan looked at her silently.
In the quiet moments of his gaze, Shu Ningmiao had many moments where she wanted to ask him what he was thinking when he decided to leave Pine with her.
For two years, when he never received a response, what was he thinking as he gazed into her unopenable eyes like this countless times?
She couldn't make a sound.
Shu Changyan didn't say a word. He gradually closed his eyes, leaned against her shoulder, pressed his face against her hair, and held her hand tightly. The warmth in his body seemed to be gradually taken away by the untimely snow, making him as cold as she was. His cold fingers dug into hers, pressing tightly together, as if not enough, trembling and demanding more touch.
"I don't think I really want to be a part of the past." He raised his head and gently touched her face with his thin lips. "And I don't want to be a memory for you either."
As Shu Changyan spoke, he took the chip out of her hand, glanced at it, and then gently put it back in, pinching her fingers tightly. Just as she clenched her fist again, he did so.
A strong feeling of being ripped off arose inexplicably within her.
He was really going to his death.
Shu Ningmiao opened her mouth but couldn't make a sound. She watched helplessly as Shu Changyan raised his hand to cover her eyes, and cold tears fell onto her clothes, instantly penetrating the fabric.
“When I left home, I was prepared to die anywhere, so why am I still so resentful?” He pressed his forehead against the palm that separated them, his longer, stray hairs brushing against the skin under her eyes with a ticklish sensation.
Shu Changyan's voice was low and hoarse as he called her name again and again, the fine snowflakes melting with each breath: "Back then, I felt it didn't matter how I died, but why do I regret it now? No matter how I could start over, the only thing I can't do now is see you again. Anyone can say I miss you, but I can't accept this one. Shu Ningmiao, I don't miss you, I want to see you."
Why are you calling her name at this moment?
Shu Ningmiao gritted her teeth and tried with difficulty to raise her hand.
In that instant, as if by lightning, something burst forth from her chest—the cold opening pierced through her from the inside out, yet it gave her a real sense of being there.
The moment the snow melts on the back of my hand, the tears that pierce through the fabric amplify the coldness a thousandfold.
In that instant, she mastered the use of the strings without any instruction, and in her memories, she finally reclaimed her body.
She suddenly opened her eyes and grabbed Shu Changyan's wrist tightly.
Blood gushed down from where their hands were clasped.
Shu Changyan instinctively tried to avoid it.
Shu Ningmiao clung to him tightly, and the two of them fell to the ground in the snow. Snow and mud flew everywhere, but she seemed oblivious. She let go of his hand and then grabbed his collar again, trying her best to speak nonchalantly: "...Didn't you say you didn't want to die?"
His face was covered in damp, dark red blood that seeped into the snow, spreading out in a shocking red ring.
Shu Changshen placed his hand on the ground, looking at her expressionlessly, then suddenly revealed a smile that could be described as gentle yet troubled: "Illusion?"
She wanted to argue something, but looking at his smiling face, she couldn't say anything.
Shu Changyan's handsome face, which was slightly cold, decayed piece by piece as flesh peeled away, revealing his hideous eye sockets. His translucent blue eyes were closer to her than ever before, like a dead star that had traveled through light-years, containing indescribable complex emotions. His melancholy reached her eyes: "Are you afraid of your brother?"
She shook her head silently, but he still bent down and tried his best to cover her eyes with his hands.
Thick, cold blood slid down her face, almost drying out and forming a scab.
When she turned her head to the left, he covered her left side; when she turned her head to the right, he covered her right side.
Shu Changyan's muffled voice came through: "Don't forget today, it snowed."
She responded almost inaudibly, "Mmm."
"Don't forget Xue." His voice had an unreal, detached quality: "Don't forget me."
"Remember me, don't forget me." Shu Changyan's breath trembled intermittently with anxiety, but his pale voice remained calm: "...Don't forget me."
She tried to reach out, but he pressed her hand back firmly. His hand, even the remnants of flesh and blood, was dying away with time. She could feel the pulsating, exposed veins, but she couldn't break free no matter what she did.
Shu Ningmiao could clearly feel the hand holding her trembling more and more violently. Tears streamed down his face, soaking the strand of hair that had fallen down. Mixed with the blood plasma, it was impossible to tell whether it was blood or tears, and it stuck to her face.
"Don't forget me."
Shu Changyan's forehead slowly drooped, and he leaned weakly against her shoulder: "Do you remember what day it is today?"
Shu Ningmiao's mind went blank for a moment.
"Happy birthday."
He released his grip completely, his hoarse voice tinged with laughter: "I'll give you the gift later."
In the quiet room, the decorative pendulum clock ticked away, its second and minute hands completing a full rotation, then brushing past each other at a certain point with a soft chirping sound.
The second hand pushes time forward, meaning that a day on the calendar has been turned over.
Her twentieth birthday.
It was her eighteenth birthday.
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Author's Note: Shu Ningmiao jumped up from the sofa: "You guessed wrong."
"?" Weston: "What did you guess wrong?"
“A cake.” Her voice was calm. “He drew a cake.”
Weston looked away: "You should just eat the moldy cherries."
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