Chapter 86

The rain grew heavier at night. Jiang Liu stood by the window with her wet hair loose, holding a cup of hot tea. The rising steam blurred the windowpane, only to be mercilessly washed away by the heavy rain, like the endless waves of the Mermaid Sea Region.

The sound of the waves crashing still echoed in her ears. Now, when she closed her eyes, the scene of Zhang Xiaochen disappearing into the shark’s mouth replayed in her mind. He had opened his mouth at the end, but she, standing in the gale, was forced back, unable to make out his final words.

Jiang Liu suddenly felt a headache. She raised a hand to rub her brow, trying to calm herself down, a complex expression unconsciously appearing on her face.

She didn’t know how long she had lived, or what had led to her current situation, but the emotions lingering in her subconscious vaguely reminded her that this was not the first time something like this had happened.

Watching the people around her go from youth to the grave, then packing her bags to start a new life—she had repeated such days many times.

Her emotions seemed to have gradually become numb with the passage of time. The disappearance of a person was like a leaf falling in autumn; apart from a soft sigh, there was no other feeling.

Jiang Liu stared blankly out the window, lost in thought.

Even at this hour, there were still players just coming out of an instance, running under the streetlights in the downpour. They too had just experienced an extremely cruel game and were now searching for a place to rest in the heavy rain, just waiting to step into danger once again.

Zhang Xiaochen’s words echoed in her ears once more.

“You must remember your purpose for entering the game in the first place. If you forget even your initial wish, then everything you’ve experienced will no longer have meaning.”

Jiang Liu withdrew her gaze, tilted her head back, and drank the cool tea in one gulp. Without hesitation, she turned around, went back to the bed, and opened the phone.

This should be Zhang Xiaochen’s spare phone; at least, Jiang Liu had never seen him use it. The entire screen was empty, without any extra entertainment apps, only the memo and gallery apps lying solitarily on the home screen.

She first clicked on the memo, which contained a series of records. Looking at the dates, it started exactly six months ago.

The first two entries were casual complaints, during which Zhang Xiaochen repeatedly mentioned “XX game” and “XX Qiao Ke,” along with other unspeakable curses, clearly showing his great resentment for this godforsaken place after entering.

For example, one entry read—

If I believe another word from Qiao Ke, I’m a fucking idiot! He said he’d provide me with conveniences, but then he just threw me into a ghost school and left me there. What kind of supervisor is that? If you’re so powerful, why don’t you just kill the person yourself? Was it worth spending tens of millions to trick me into this?

Looking at this characteristically intense language, Jiang Liu could almost imagine Zhang Xiaochen’s tone at that time. He was probably paying lip service to Qiao Ke on the surface while cursing him to filth in his heart.

Jiang Liu deduced that this must have been his first instance. The resentment practically overflowed from the screen, enough to show what kind of horror Zhang Xiaochen had endured inside.

Flipping through a series of curses, Jiang Liu finally found a record with a different style.

For example: What’s going on, the Defective Product is actually a person? That idiot didn’t say so. This girl looks so quiet and gentle, why call her a Defective Product?

The timeline had now reached the Curtain Dream Theater instance. Zhang Xiaochen had also listed two props in detail here, both of which were now in Jiang Liu’s possession.

He had tried to probe her several times without arousing suspicion, only to find that Jiang Liu knew nothing about the game, even more of a novice than himself. Only then did he feel completely at ease, knowing that he had gained her trust.

That secretly taken photo of her and Yang Caisi was also placed at the very bottom of the memo, with a long row of question marks as a text note, clearly puzzled as to why an NPC would also be involved.

Although the memo was long, most of it was idle talk, occasionally interspersed with a couple of serious sentences mixed in with the screen full of curses, making it easy to spot the key points at a glance.

Zhang Xiaochen’s thought process was also fully reflected in it. Although he couldn’t perceive the information within those props, he knew that Qiao Ke’s orders were aimed at making Jiang Liu remember something.

As he delved deeper, he gradually became puzzled about the relationship between the two of them, and why Yang Caisi would personally enter the instance and occasionally help Jiang Liu.

It wasn’t until a chance contact with Qiao Ke that Zhang Xiaochen felt he had found part of the answer.

It was after seeing Jiang He. He couldn’t sleep that night and questioned Qiao Ke whether the system had made a mistake.

Qiao Ke didn’t explain, only promising that all of Jiang He’s choices were voluntary.

At that time, Zhang Xiaochen couldn’t tell whether he was more angry or more helpless at the loss of control. On impulse, he even asked about the relationship between Jiang Liu and Yang Caisi.

The response he got was just a few photos thrown at him by Qiao Ke.

They weren’t attached here, but now that Jiang Liu had read this far, her heart finally couldn’t help but pound. Her subconscious told her that this was the secret in the hidden gallery Zhang Xiaochen had mentioned.

Jiang Liu took a deep breath and calmly finished reading his final analysis.

In fact, after this, Zhang Xiaochen’s inner speculations were rarely recorded on his phone. The next few entries were sparse, and after a while, as if he had already made a decision, he uploaded all the props he had gotten from Qiao Ke and neatly listed them in a file.

The records inside were extremely detailed, not only including the layouts of many rooms that existed in her memory, but also some specific dishes and records of daily necessities from their life together.

The more Jiang Liu looked, the more alarmed she became. She scrolled all the way to the end, where only Zhang Xiaochen’s self-addressed question remained, “How can I move a car to the bottom of the sea?”

The timeline was now completely clear. His inner hesitation and struggle were also strongly expressed through these words. Jiang Liu silently closed the memo, her heart unable to calm down for a long time.

A moment later, as if she had prepared herself, she opened the gallery and entered the folder with the straightforward name, Top Secret Album.

The very first photo made Jiang Liu freeze on the spot.

It was in the sky-darkening Desolate Well Mountain Village, with a backdrop of very old-fashioned yellow-earth brick houses. The weather was gray and gloomy. A team of players was gathered in a courtyard discussing their strategy. Who knew who took it, but the equipment wasn’t high-end, and the photo was very blurry.

But Jiang Liu still recognized Yang Caisi at first glance, wearing a floral-print short-sleeved shirt with two pigtails.

She was just leaning against the door, holding a large sieve in her hands, as if processing some kind of grain.

The angle was from outside the courtyard. No one had noticed the camera. Yang Caisi was shaking the sieve in her hands, but her eyes were fixed on the well, where a girl was squatting.

The girl had no front view, her back to the camera as she looked down into the well. Her clothes were gray and covered in dust. One could only tell that she had a rather slender figure. Her long hair was tied up with a chopstick, looking neat and tidy.

Jiang Liu’s fingers trembled slightly. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember when this had happened.

Even without seeing the face clearly, she could still recognize from the posture and figure that it was her.

Yang Caisi had once been her supervisor.

This realization overturned all of Jiang Liu’s previous guesses. Her eyes widened as she flipped backwards. No matter how chaotic or simple the background was, two figures in various costumes could always be found.

The resolution of the photos gradually became clearer in the later ones, as if silently telling Jiang Liu that even these few photos had witnessed many changes over the eras.

In other words—

The several players Yang Caisi had supervised were all Jiang Liu.

***

It was the same sea surface.

Gu Ran was lying in a rocking chair, sunbathing. She only opened her eyes after hearing the sound of an engine. She fiddled with the camera hanging around her neck, aimed it at the figure on the sea, and lightly pressed the shutter.

Yang Caisi parked the speedboat on the shore, brushed aside her wind-tousled hair, and strode towards her, bending down to check the photo.

Sunlight, seascape, a beauty on a speedboat—it should have been a simple scene that couldn’t go wrong. But in Gu Ran’s camera, it had become something else entirely. The perfectly fine sea level was crooked, and Yang Caisi was squinting under the bright sun, looking dark and tanned.

She couldn’t help but sigh softly, unhesitatingly snatching the camera and pressing delete. She twitched the corner of her mouth in exasperation. “After all these years, you’re still at this level.”

Gu Ran clicked her tongue and fiercely snatched the camera back, saying sarcastically, “You just left at such a critical moment. Won’t that Miss Jiang be very sad?”

This person really knew how to hit where it hurts.

Yang Caisi rolled her eyes in annoyance. Although she was very worried about Jiang Liu, she remained expressionless on the surface. “I believe sister can do it.”

Looking at her, Gu Ran shook her head repeatedly and retorted with a pout, “I’m about to get calluses on my ears from hearing that.”

Every time it came to a critical point, Yang Caisi would come to her place and wait without a word. The worry was practically overflowing from her eyes, yet she was still unwilling to do anything.

If only she would just go and explain things clearly, express her feelings, Jiang Liu would definitely make that choice, but she just wouldn’t.

Yang Caisi’s voice sounded almost simultaneously with Gu Ran’s, even the tone and pause were identical.

“I want to give her the freedom to choose.”

Looking at Yang Caisi’s calm expression, Gu Ran sighed heavily again and finally stopped talking.

But there was one thing she had to remind her of.

“How long have you been in the system? You’re about to reach your term limit, aren’t you?”

Yang Caisi was taken aback, as if she had never considered this question before. A moment later, she returned to her usual expression and just pursed her lips. “I have one year left in my term of office.”

Gu Ran nodded in understanding and closed her eyes again. “As long as you’re aware.”

After all—

Jiang Liu’s cycle was endless, but Yang Caisi didn’t have that much time.

Yang Caisi understood her friend’s implication. Her expression became grave again, and she stood there, staring at the turbulent sea for a long time without a word.

Her expression seemed calm, but her hands hanging naturally at her sides were clenched into tight fists. The slightly sharp nails dug into her palms, and the stinging pain calmed Yang Caisi’s turbulent emotions once again.

She silently withdrew her gaze and caressed the ring on her ring finger, as if she were holding hands with that person, heart to heart.

She had persevered for so many years. She believed Jiang Liu would find a way.