Chapter 183 A Happy Ending: May Your Life Be Free and Brilliant...
Meiling stood there, her pupils trembling, her expression first one of surprise, then blank, and finally settling into utter bewilderment.
Her radiance vanished so quickly, as if her very soul had been plucked away.
You bit your lip, barely able to control the changes in your expression.
It was that sentence you uttered—you shouted the word "rules" in front of everyone. You were careless, and you got carried away. You had clearly tried to replace those two words with various excuses beforehand.
This exposes the fact that "copy rules," which are things that only "outsiders" can know, use, and communicate, can cause trouble for outsiders if they are overheard by locals.
This time, what's even more unsettling than being punished is that it's Meiling who's being punished.
This is because the unspoken rules of this instance are inseparable from the Theravada Buddhism upon which they depend: more important than saving all sentient beings is managing one's own affairs.
Four different perspectives on the fundamental rules of "shutting up, closing your eyes, not overthinking, and accepting the status quo" inspired you: if it takes four rules to suppress certain forces, then going against those rules might actually gain you support. So you boldly challenged your existing identity and the guidance your current persona gave you time and time again. But what about a local like Meiling?
You don't belong here, so you can break away and challenge these rules to a certain extent. But when Meiling keeps doing the same rebellious things with you, getting close to you, listening to you, trusting you, and then receiving this statement that exceeds her limits of understanding, and then continuing to think about it together, the punishment of "failing to manage herself" comes upon her.
Damn it, damn it, this isn't what you wanted.
"Meiling! Meiling!!" You rushed over and hugged her tightly, shaking her shoulders, pressing your face against her forehead, and whispered anxiously, "Listen to me, you're Meiling, my most important friend, remember? You were so arrogant at first, trying to intimidate me, and then we discovered the school's secret together. Even though you were terrified of the dog skin, you still helped me put it away. You were the one who said you'd 'turn the world upside down'—"
She did not respond.
Her eyes were open, but it was as if she didn't see you at all. Her body was still warm, but her soul seemed to have drifted to some distant and cold shore.
Huimin has been by your side the whole time, but her eyes are darting around, and she asks in a trembling voice, knowing the answer already, "What...what happened to her?"
You looked up at Huimin.
Huimin certainly knew that Meiling's accident was related to you, and she might even know why it happened. You could see the suppressed fear in her eyes, and her habitual self-protective silence—her cowardice protected her to some extent.
She didn't blame you. But she also didn't dare to directly offer you help.
She still managed to lift Meiling up with you, her arms trembling like a sieve.
She said fearfully, "Will she be alright?" — Will I be alright?
"Let's go to the cafeteria," you said.
"…canteen?"
“Yes,” you grit your teeth, “I don’t care anymore, I’ll try anything.”
Huimin, though frightened, resolutely followed your lead, and the two of you, supporting Meiling, staggered out of the teaching building.
The students, still sitting on the ground and immersed in the emotions of what had just happened, looked bewildered.
They didn't understand what was happening, or why you suddenly started running again, but they simply trusted you out of habit, like water trusting its course. And so, in a mighty torrent, they followed in your footsteps.
The cafeteria was just ahead, a familiar and spacious area, now in disarray due to the recent vandalism.
You kick the chair away, push over the milk tea counter, and plunge headfirst into the cabinet full of condiments.
Coconut milk, pandan water, mango puree, coconut syrup, Thai black tea — Rule 6: When you feel helpless, pandan, leaves, and mango can solve everything.
This is also Meiling's favorite drink.
This is what you're betting on right now.
You could bet on "everything" to awaken the consciousness of a local who hasn't intentionally made a big mistake.
You fed Meiling spoonful by spoonful of sugar water. She swallowed it with a gulp. You continued to feed her, rambling on as you did so: "Do you remember you said you hated bowing three times a day? You said you wanted to be a dancer, but traditional costumes were too tight and you thought they were just outdated..." You told her everything you knew about her.
"Do you still remember Jinglian?" Huimin asked softly. "Don't forget her too. Don't become that numb and ignorant person you used to be."
“Yes…don’t forget these things, don’t lose these understandings…” you say along.
Meiling's eyelashes trembled.
Your heart is pounding.
You immediately hand the cup over and take another big gulp.
This time, she finally coughed. She coughed until tears streamed down her face, then she took a deep breath, looked at you, and coughed violently as if she'd just been pulled ashore.
“…You,” she said in a hoarse voice, “are you trying to murder me? It’s so sweet!”
Both your eyes and Huimin's eyes were red.
fine.
Meiling took another sip of the milk tea with a look of disgust: "Who made this milk tea?"
Huimin covered her mouth at some point and quietly put her hands behind her back.
You lean back slightly and see that she is tightly clutching a small jar of coconut sugar in her hand—you didn't notice that she secretly added it at the last moment.
She has been carefully observing your behavior and is slowly exploring the "patterns" herself, rather than just "following" as she appears.
The two of you exchanged a glance, and Huimin hurriedly looked away.
Meiling didn't ask any further questions about why she suddenly appeared in the cafeteria.
Maybe she only "came back briefly", but you're already satisfied.
Everything that followed was perfectly logical.
The more centralized a country is, the stronger its power to suppress information becomes.
Because of its wide-ranging impact, everything that happened at the school was ultimately suppressed by the government as "a collective student discomfort caused by food safety issues," and the case was hastily closed with just a notice.
The videos and content in the live streams—you don't know if it's interference from the dungeon's power or human control—you can't find a single word of information.
As for you students who "led" the trouble, you were "thoughtfully" given a "leave of absence + psychological counseling" package. You couldn't have asked for more.
You just stayed home and squatted there for the rest of the weeks.
The 12th rule you devised to ensure you would no longer be subjected to underhanded tactics has now come into effect on you.
When it's time for you to leave, you can leave safely and go to where you're meant to go.
It's finally over.
Three days ago, you only received one text message: "I'll pick you up at the appointed time."
As always, you didn't know where to go. And your so-called mother, with your father dead and you having caused a "big disaster," spent her days chanting sutras and praying to Buddha. Her only interaction with you was cooking for you. So you simply packed a few things as a formality, put on your bag, and waited at the door.
"Beep beep—"
A large black motorcycle covered in mud was parked in front of the door.
ah?
"Get on the bike! Didn't we already plan to leave?" The motorcyclist auntie had no patience at all, urging you to get on the bike quickly, without even putting on a helmet.
Ah... okay, no one says you can only leave by train, plane, or bus.
You sit on the back of an older woman's motorcycle, weaving through the streets, the wind blowing down your neck—such an invigorating environment, yet you're on the verge of falling asleep.
But just then, you heard a shout.
"Hey—!" A familiar voice cut through the air, and you had no choice but to force your eyelids open.
Huimin? And Meiling? They're chasing you. The two women ran out of the alley, panting and waving, their eyes red, as if they had just been crying.
How did they know you would come from here? A sense of surprise flashed through your mind.
You've been deliberately avoiding them for the past three weeks.
On the one hand, you've achieved your goals as an outsider and are thinking about relaxing and preparing to return to your daily life; on the other hand, you really don't know if you've harmed them.
Meiling's "punishment" was caused by you. You have no way of knowing whether she's truly alright or if the story has been rearranged to make her seem "okay." Perhaps, staying away from you would be better.
You patted your aunt on the shoulder: "Could you wait a moment?"
You forced yourself to stay awake and walked over. Meiling grabbed your hand and said excitedly, "Do you think we've forgotten you? Didn't you tell us that 'our characters are your best partners'? We haven't forgotten."
You froze—you had hinted at this to them in a vague, joking tone during a careful conversation.
Rule 11: Find your role and play it.
You taught them all the rules in the same way, hoping they could protect themselves.
Meiling hugs you.
"I'm sorry..." she choked out, "At first, I just... I was in a bad mood because my family had been arguing those days, and the teacher kept asking me to play with you. I found it so annoying, I was out of my mind, I didn't really mean to bully you..."
Her face rested on your shoulder, and Huimin hugged you back. You put your hands on their backs as well. The three of you huddled together.
There's so much you want to say.
Since they were able to appear here, something might have happened in the instance without your knowledge. You really wanted to tell them that everything here operates with strict and bizarre rules, and that they should be extremely careful. But in the end, you said nothing.
The woman on the motorcycle interrupted you with her voice: "Hurry up and get on the motorcycle, it's time, or we won't be able to leave."
You gave them a deep look. You were about to leave this world forever, while they were to remain in this nightmarish instance, and yet, they had come to some realization.
You...you still can't suppress what's in your heart. You gently push them aside and whisper your final farewell: "Please...no matter what happens, don't succumb to any force that tries to distort your perception."
You see them pause for a moment, then nod as if they understand.
“No matter where it came from,” you continue, “please don’t give up.”
Whether it's a higher-dimensional copy, other potential outsiders mingling around you in the future, or just a collective consciousness in a very small society that always tells people 'don't cause trouble, don't stand out,' don't succumb to it.
They nodded vigorously.
You're really leaving; you feel that drowsy feeling about to disappear.
You turn around and run back to the motorcycle, jump onto the back seat, and in your last glance back, you only see the two of them standing in the middle of the street, waving at you in a wide, sweeping gesture.
Close your eyes.
The sounds of wind, gasoline, and distant ship horns gradually intertwine to create a dim, lullaby. You drift off to sleep.
In the final leg of your journey through the dungeon world, you had a dream. A very light, very gentle dream.
You run through a field of blooming rice, the sunlight clinging to your skin like honey. You see everyone you know, and everything you've experienced—the terrible, the mundane, the everyday—just like the life of a truly ordinary person.
You're awake.
Although I've forgotten what happened in the dream, a strange joy still lingers in my heart.
Until the pungent disinfectant seeped into your open mouth, choking you so much that you couldn't straighten up.
This is a hospital.
Before I could even have a dramatic "I'm really back?!!" moment, my phone screen lit up with a message from a colleague:
"Are you awake yet? I asked for half a day off for you, but if you don't reply to my message soon, I'll have to deduct your pay for the afternoon shift."
Blink.
It's still a bit hard to accept. Yesterday you were the king of the kids among a bunch of little brats, and today you're back to being a corporate slave.
You sit on the hospital bed, lost in thought, watching everything as if in a dream. A window in the hospital is slightly ajar, letting in a breeze that ruffles your hair. You haven't even had time to adjust to this "reality," yet you're already forced to confront it.
A moment later, another message appeared:
"I've already paid for the transportation and hospital fees. It's not much; you can pay me back when you have time."
You smiled knowingly, understanding that she was worried you wouldn't understand her position. Yes, that's how it is in the workplace; no matter how good the relationship, you can't leave things unsaid. Without hesitation, you opened the transfer app and sent the money back in full, also treating her to a cup of milk tea.
You sat there in a daze for a while, then got out of bed.
The doctor said you were fine, just fainting due to overwork and drinking. After being discharged from the hospital, you didn't go to the company, but went home first—you took a good shower, washed yourself clean, and threw away the clothes that were dirty from when you passed out on the street, as if washing away the blood and shadows from the game world.
You put on your sneakers and went out onto the street.
On weekdays, this city boasts wide, clean streets, and on clear days, the blue sky is reflected brilliantly by the glass windows of tall buildings. But this isn't all the urban scene here; there are also snack stalls near subway stations and small, lively restaurants nestled in the alleyways of old residential buildings, preserved because they are difficult to demolish.
You walked all day, without a destination, simply letting your footsteps measure every corner of your memory.
You keep telling yourself: You're back alive, and you actually managed to escape a complete scenario.
Oh my god!
During the day, you're full of energy and excited by everything, but at night, when you return to your tiny one-bedroom apartment that costs several thousand yuan a month, the familiar crampedness fills you with fear.
Neuropathic pain caused by inexplicable tension about everything.
Without much hesitation, you turned on your computer and wrote your resignation letter.
You don't plan to tell anyone why you resigned; you only know that you don't want to be someone who lives with a lifelong, unfulfilled love. You want this experience to become your armor, not your shackles, so you need time to heal.
After working for two years, you have over 100,000 yuan in savings. You start to meticulously plan your life, making lists and budgets.
You've thought about quitting countless times after being exhausted, but you're unwilling to give up such a rare opportunity. Besides, what if you can't find a better job in the future? Now you just think, "To hell with it!"
You quickly completed all the preparations, and then took the high-speed rail, plane, and bus, arriving at one city after another, aimlessly yet purposefully.
Then he made a phone call: "Hello? I'm at the station, come pick me up."
Yes, you visited these guys who keep saying they're going on vacation next month, but there's always next month after that.
They met you at various stages of your life, boarded the train of friendship, but you all had your own destinations, and years later, you found yourselves rarely seeing each other.
They are no longer the ones you chat with most often in your contacts, but when they hear that you're here, their surprise and joy still overflow, and you two hug each other like a pair of fools and cry your eyes out.
Their busy work schedules prevent them from taking you out for fun, but that's okay. Just ordering takeout in their rented apartment is still more satisfying than eating at a five-star hotel.
This may be the true meaning of "existence".
You only spend a week with each person, and you don't want to disturb their lives any further.
They all say you've changed.
"His eyes became sharp, and he spoke much less, as if he was hiding something on his mind."
You didn't explain. You smiled—in this world, everyone has to keep things hidden. You didn't want to bring that world back; you just wanted to remember the beautiful parts of this world more deeply.
You've finally returned to your hometown.
Your mother and father were surprised by your sudden return and asked if you were no longer going to work. You stammered and told them you had resigned, bracing yourself for a barrage of insults.
But they only pretend to scold you a few times, saying why you didn't tell them in advance so they could prepare something nice to eat. Then your mother puts on her coat and goes out to buy groceries excitedly, while your father wields the spatula, determined to get you a couple of hot bites as soon as possible.
You sit in the living room, sunlight slanting onto the corner of the table, and time seems to stand still.
How long has it been since you had a meal with your family so comfortably? You don't need to go home for minor holidays, but for major holidays like Chinese New Year, you can only rush home as if your backside is on fire, and you have to prepare to leave as soon as you get there.
Many times, even when I'm staying at home, I still have to take my computer to work.
This time, you're really back.
You stayed at home for six months or a year, and then you started looking for work again.
Don't rush, at worst you can just start writing a novel!
You laughed at yourself. For children in the Flower Kingdom who are bound by rules from a young age, with no room for more or less, and whose desire to express themselves and perform is constantly suppressed, many probably dream of becoming writers.
And you feel that although your experiences are absurd, they are more real than reality.
Perhaps by expressing it, you can lessen your psychological shadow and stop carrying it alone in your dreams.
However, whether you write novels or not, you have a very open-minded attitude towards job hunting.
This time, you no longer blindly pursue "platform" and "development." Now you care more about a career that allows you to better balance your life and work.
Just kidding, if you can survive six months like that, what difficulties can you possibly face in life? Your world is vast, and you can always do whatever you want in the way you desire at that moment!
You will no longer waver easily, no longer be overwhelmed by anxiety, and you have finally become someone who is no longer afraid of rules and no longer avoids being true to yourself.
Because you have the key to victory: courage and confidence.
**
The sea breeze gently lapped against the rocks on the shore, carrying a salty scent mixed with the aroma of fruit juice warmed by the sun.
You are sitting in a small seaside town in South Okinawa, lazily reclining in a deck chair.
The sky was an unrealistic blue, almost like blue paint, and the sunlight, thin and golden, blanketed the skin, making one feel drowsy. In the distance, the rooftops of several old white houses were dotted with seagulls, and occasionally the laughter of teenagers could be heard—the kind of laughter that only exists on holidays and in the afternoon, carefree, bright, and distant.
A group of children were chasing and playing on the beach. The volleyball in their hands was blown off course by the wind and landed at your feet. You bent down, picked up the ball casually, smiled at them, and threw it with all your might.
You're quite the athlete—well.
The ball traced an absurd arc and slammed straight into the head of a passing woman. You've been working out all these years, you're quite strong; the woman's head snapped to the side, and her sun hat flew eight meters away.
You felt a chill run down your spine, and you almost jumped up immediately, spilling juice all over the floor.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Oh no, sorry..." You run over quickly and hurriedly pick up her hat.
The woman frowned, rubbed her head, and said with a hint of annoyance, "Seeing that you're also from China and have a good attitude, I don't want to make a scene: 'It's okay, it's okay, just be more careful next time.'"
That sound...
You froze for a moment, then suddenly looked up.
The sunlight was a bit too bright, so you shielded your eyes with your hand, and through your fingers you could see her face.
She's looking at you too, her expression somewhat blank, as if she's trying to confirm something.
Then, the world suddenly fell silent. The waves, the children's laughter, and the loud music from the distant seaside restaurant all seemed to be shut out behind a pane of glass. At that moment, the world consisted only of the two of you.
That's Xiaoming.
Time has etched fine lines on her face, and the corners of her eyes bear the marks of hardship. She has cut her hair short, her skin is tanned darker, and she looks more robust, but her eyes—the eyes that caught your gaze when you first arrived, feeling lost and bewildered, and then gently extended kindness to you—have not changed at all.
You could hardly believe it. You reached out and gently grasped her shoulders, your voice trembling slightly: "...Xiao Ming?"
She froze for a moment, her breath caught in her throat, and her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but she couldn't utter a word.
The wind ruffles your hair, letting it drift into her palm. You look at your hair, feeling as if you've been gently touched.
After leaving the instance, you thought about finding Xiaoming and the others.
But you remember everything except the contact information you left each other when you parted.
You've tried searching for them, like posting online. But after all these years, there's still no news.
Later, even you began to doubt: Did that journey really exist? Were those rules, those escapes, those long nights just a hallucination after drinking?
And so, you came here—as you grow older, your perception of time and life has accelerated, and everything from the past has become utterly unreal.
You just want to retrace that so-called "realistic" path, following that remaining, hazy memory. You tell yourself it's just a vacation, but deep down there's a strange obsession.
And now, she's really in front of you.
After many twists and turns, a new path opens up.
You and she remained silent. The sand at your feet was gradually swallowed by the sea, and the rhythm of the crashing waves was like a heartbeat.
As you look at her, all the images flood your mind—the escape under the cover of night, the flickering light in the corridor. You can almost hear the gasps from back then, feel the tension of impending death and the mutual trust between you.
Xiao Ming chuckled softly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice: "My God, is this really true? I almost thought I had a brief mental illness back then."
"I thought so too." Your voice was low and hoarse, almost swallowed by the sea breeze.
“But now it seems we really did survive,” she said. “And you did too.”
You nodded, but said nothing more. Language seemed clumsy and powerless at that moment.
You reach out your hand, and she reaches out hers. Your fingers touch in mid-air—rough, warm, and real.
You looked at each other and smiled, but your eyes also welled up with tears.
The wind swept across the coast, carrying with it a distant shout.
Laughter filled the air on the beach once more, and the world began to flow again.
You hold Xiaoming's hand tightly.
She holds your hand in return.
No one spoke.
As the sun slowly sinks into the sea, your shadows are stretched and overlap.
You have so much to say, and so much time to enjoy together. You will explore the world together again, which is perhaps the greatest gift fate has given you.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Wow, it's finished!! I'll be writing two more branching endings as side stories, so feel free to check them out if you're interested! The main text won't be revised, but I might fix some bugs. Thank you so much for your support this past year. I'm so lucky to have met all of you readers who accompanied me through this novel, which started as a joke—"It feels like your life is a strange tale of rules." If you like Tiger's writing, check out my homepage. I'll continue writing horror stories (like the pre-ordered "Don't Listen to the Radio at Midnight") or heartwarming stories with strong female leads (like the already published "The Sea Knows What Flowers Are About"), etc. I hope I can keep writing and that you all will continue to support me! Thank you again!! Love!!! [Pink Heart][Purple Heart][Green Heart][Blue Heart]
This story is written in the second person, which is obviously intended to enhance the sense of immersion. Therefore, when I wrote it, I tried my best to make the protagonist "you" more relatable. I also wish that every student can be like "you", always having the courage to overcome difficulties and the confidence to face dangers, managing their lives freely and happily, and one day being able to use their own feet and eyes to measure the whole world!
Of the six countries I chose, only Germany is one I've lived in for an extended period; the others were only short-term trips. Therefore, as I write, I increasingly use fantastical experiences to showcase the unique character of each country. This is all very subjective, but I think it should be quite convincing. [Dog head with rose in hand] Germany's rigidity, my travels around the world with Yingru, the omnipresent rules of Japan, the chilly atmosphere of Los Angeles and the unique experiences under its political and economic culture, the exaggerated style of the United States and its pursuit of freedom, and finally, Thailand and its mysterious folk culture. There's so much more I want to write, but it would be too verbose, and I'm also getting tired, so I'll stop here. I hope it successfully creates a resonance between my soul and hers. [Dog head with rose in hand]
Finally, here's my personal vision: If possible, I'd like to travel the world, exploring different cultures and cuisines, and then write essays and travelogues. Will anyone read them then? Haha!! I hope to complete this plan before I turn forty, and I also hope that by then my writing skills and social experience will be sufficient to support such a grand dream [doge head with rose in hand]. See you in the next book!! Love!!
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