After the ga ended, the Deity said, we are going to conduct a millennium simulation with one hundred percent reality, simulating the situation a thousand years later and imprinting it as reality.
I participated in the simulation, possessing my future self, Xiao Jingsan.
A millennium later—in the year 829 of the World of Old Days, I finally t that destined person, that good man I hadn’t seen for a long ti, that... purest High Tower.
Su Ming’an.
He ca.
The World of Old Days... is his tenth instance.
I invited him for an offline eting at ’Louyue Nation,’ but he was always wary of .
...
["Before I retrieve all my mories, every path I walk is to test the Rules." Li Mingyue said: "If you’re scared, leave the National Preceptor Pavilion imdiately."]
["Ha, am I afraid?" Xiao Jingsan murmured: "Am I afraid? Clearly, we are the sa..."]
...
Clearly, we are the sa.
Dieying ordered not to reveal my identity, so I could only hint indirectly, but unfortunately, it was difficult for Su Ming’an to understand such subtle implications.
Then I suddenly discovered the chaos on the internet—so dared to insult Su Ming’an. I rembered how Noel once defended Su Ming’an, fighting back against tens of thousands alone. So I imdiately emulated, directing Xiao Jingsan to, as the Vice Sect Hierarch of the Old Day Church, furiously curse those people, and indeed, no one dared to curse Su Ming’an again.
...
[Old Day Church·Vice Sect Hierarch: @Jing Hongfei. Want to unfollow, want to step back? What are you, to question the first Dream Patrol Family? Keys three for a yuan, five for two yuan, how many are you worth?]
...
I felt delighted.
I used puns related to Dragon Country to curse people, I wonder if Su Ming’an noticed.
Abandoning kindness, I found I could live so freely.
These people are not because I made sense in cursing, nor did they reflect that they shouldn’t curse Su Ming’an. They’re just afraid of the Old Day Church’s massacre, so they quickly shut up.
They are so rampant in the face of "goodness," relying on Su Ming’an’s kindness, they sprayed him intensively. Yet in front of my "evil," they instantly fell silent. Clearly, Su Ming’an’s strength is above mine, rely because he doesn’t slaughter civilians, they can point and curse him, but respect .
At this mont, I suddenly realized why the world had fallen to this extent. It turns out truly good people don’t get good results, evil people are freer.
In my heart, the last fragnt of the High Tower, sank completely into the dirt.
—My idealism shattered, but so what?
...
Later, we t in the Black Mist, and Su Ming’an seed not to like the Old Day Church I had built.
... It doesn’t matter, it will sooner or later beco food for your becoming a god, all of this is built for you.
... Su Ming’an. You are the purest High Tower. The tower in my heart has collapsed, but you will never collapse.
It’s not that I particularly like Su Ming’an. But in my heart, he has transford into a symbol of the "High Tower." If he collapses, all my years of life persistence will collapse in an instant, and my forr idealism will beco a joke, so I will go all out to maintain his purity.
He is my new White Tower.
He is my last ’goodness’ trust in humanity.
The seventh day of the instance, he gave a black bird sculpture, roughly crafted. I didn’t care at first, but caught sight of the words on the base of the black bird sculpture.
...
[Made in Dragon Country (made in china)]
...
—This is the first ti in more than twenty years away from ho that I have seen the words of my hotown. The horizontal strokes and dots are always the most beautiful typeface in my heart. I almost thought I would never see these square characters again.
I reached for it eagerly, wiped away the dust, and held it close. At that mont, it felt like I could sll the scent of my hotown, the aroma of lanterns and firecrackers lingered at my nose, and I almost wanted to cry. Who can understand the explosive emotion when a wanderer sees the words of his hotown?
I placed the black bird sculpture in the left pocket on my chest, and it beca another heart for .
I thought firmly—I must see my mother. Besides that, I will do everything I can to help Su Ming’an pass through. Although I can no longer return, he must go ho.
Good people should have good outcos.
As for , with blood-stained hands, no longer believing in kindness... I must ensure he stays pure forever.
Then, Dieying finally gave a task.
—[Kill Su Ming’an].
Like a thunderclap on a sunny day.
I stared at Him in disbelief. Facing that "choose one of two" dilemma again—why must I make this choice? Why must I choose between my mother and others?
Dieying rely laughed, as if happy to see my struggle.
"I refuse..." My voice was faint as a mosquito’s hum.
"Think carefully, you’ll make the right choice." Dieying laughed, seeing through my insincere words.
"No, Su Ming’an is a good man, good people should have good outcos. I can’t treat him with malice..." I said.
"Is that so? Then swear, swear to dedicate your life to Su Ming’an. Let your mother accompany your ideals in the grave, she can’t hold on for long, can you decide your mother’s fate?" Dieying mocked: "Give you so ti, go back and think it over."
I can no longer uphold idealism.
I’m about to beco the person I hate the most—the evil who takes action against good people.
But it’s been so many years, the first ti soone was so radiant, he transford into the White Tower... tempted . As a result, the mont I saw him was my most anticipated ti.
When I pledged allegiance to Su Ming’an as the Principal, my whole body was shaking. Clearly, this was the mont I yearned for the most—I saw him. But it was also what scared the most.
I am trembling.
"Do I really have to kill him?" Every ti I see him, I keep thinking:
"Why... must the one pulling this chariot switch... beco ?"
"Why am I always in the passive position of tragedy?"
"Why must it be Su Ming’an that I have to kill?"
In fact, as long as I refuse Dieying, good people will have good outcos—Su Ming’an’s kindness in the White Sand Paradise made him receive my ’good outco’, making reluctant to kill him.
But if I refuse Dieying, all the pain I experienced to save my mother... will beco a sunk cost that can never be recovered.
My mother received Healing resources due to a word from Edward. And Su Ming’an killed Edward in the Ninth World. With Edward dead, everyone around him was accounted for, including my mother. She received Edward’s favor, and even if the superiors didn’t want her life, she couldn’t continue Healing.
I tried to ask Su Ming’an for help, as long as Su Ming’an spoke, my mother could be saved. But Dieying told , even Su Ming’an couldn’t help if I dared to betray, mom couldn’t be safe.
I finally felt the Darkness of destiny.
It goes round and round, from head to tail, from tail to head—I, to save my mother, shattered the White Tower in my heart and fell into this world. I want to repay Su Ming’an, let the "good have good outcos," so I treat him as the second White Tower. But Su Ming’an killed Edward, and to save my mother, I have to personally let the "good have no good outcos."
...Why.
...Why... just because he is kind.
My eyes were like dried-up ditches—I thought for a mont, why should I go through this? Why didn’t I completely die that night in the White Sand Paradise?
Why round and round—my life, my ideals, my asure of good and evil—still let beco a complete joke?
I drank a lot of peach blossom brew, watching the starry sky close at hand in a daze. In a trance, I seed to see that pure White Tower. He had his black hair loose, eyes like eternal obsidian, wearing a white doctor’s coat, walking toward .
The halo was cast upon his palm, as if he was holding a small and beautiful blue planet.
I tried to reach out my hand, but he avoided it, still cradling that beautiful blue planet, not sparing a glance. Perhaps in his eyes, I was just an inexplicably deranged NPC. His way of dealing with was simply to appease .
Clearly, for these twenty-odd years, I have longed to see him. He might have forgotten the coward shivering that night in White Sand Paradise—but I never walked out of that night.
I constantly sketched his appearance, the way he reached out to , the heartbeat pounding beneath his white coat... I was afraid that as ti flew by, decades in the blink of an eye, I would forget the White Tower.
Now, I need to choose between the White Tower and my mother.
Now, I need to choose between idealism and realism.
Now, I need to choose between good and evil.
The kindest version of , what would that be like?
The most evil version of , what would that be like?
I have lost so much.
I lost the from childhood.
——I beca the Zhu No-bounds who hurled a teor Hamr at the young hero Rainbow Cat from a cliff edge.
...
I suddenly understood why Boss Rabbit chose back then. It was for this mont, to make his obstacle.
In my heart’s White Tower, he dared to drag down the silt with a limp.
And I was rely the ugly silt beneath his feet.
...How vile.
Turns out from the very beginning... I wasn’t the young hero Rainbow Cat.
...
"——Dieying! Take away! Use my life in exchange for his, use my life to set him free. I’m begging you——"
"Invade the World of Old Days, steal this civilization, whatever it takes—let him go! Let him go!"
Xiao Ying trembled uncontrollably. He stood within the blazing fire of the Old Divine Palace, shouting towards the Dieying in the stars above.
He beseeched Dieying with the humblest posture to spare Su Ming’an.
He had already put in every effort, desperately fighting against this cruel ’choice of two’. Originally, Dieying demanded he [personally kill Su Ming’an], but after resisting for a long ti and threatening with death, Dieying lowered the task to [blow up the Old Divine Palace].
He had gone to the extre. As long as Su Ming’an moved forward, there would be no obstacles.
Pity, love and hate, ideals, kindness... had all been discarded by him, he had beco a version of himself that his eighteen-year-old self wouldn’t recognize. For the sake of his mother and hotown, he beca blood-soaked, gloomy and reticent, no longer that young man challenging the Organizers with righteous ire.
Buzzing filled his ears, the scalding sound of flas, the collapse of ruins, the sound of heat waves crashing, he looked at Su Ming’an in the sky, in pain as if he was about to split apart.
"Su Ming’an, I..." he wanted to voice his suffering.
...
[Xiao Ying took out a black bird sculpture, pressing it against his forehead, he laughed lowly, speaking indistinct words:]
["...Clearly we are the sa... Su Ming’an."]
...
[General Qin looked at Su Ming’an, with a gaze just as woeful as Xiao Ying’s—both a kind of yearning after many years.]
...
Yearning for a long ti.
I for you—for you, this ideal White Tower—for you, this hero in my life—yearned for a long ti.
Seeing you, it’s as if I saw the embodint of my most fervent ideal.
"Su Ming’an, I really miss you..." he wanted to tell how much pain he had suffered.
He wanted to say how many tis he had recalled that night in White Sand Paradise.
He wanted to say how much he yearned to see him.
But the noble White Tower looked down upon him, the gaze indifferent and sharp, almost depriving him of speech.
——The young hero on the cliff drew the Rainbow Sword, looking down.
"You are my..." the young hero began.
The young hero’s eyes were full of unfamiliarity.
Xiao Ying’s pupils widened, an icy chill pouring into his throat.
He almost felt he stood at the edge of a cliff, teetering, a cold wind could send him over.
"...the most unforgivable person."
"Xiao Ying."
The long wind blew.
The black bird fell into the abyss.
...
["What is a bad person, what is an ideal."]
["Are they opposing relationships? I beca a bad person for the ideal, is it my fault?"]
[Su Ming’an stays silent.]
[Suddenly, Xiao Ying uncovered the blanket, facing him: "Which is more important, procedural justice or outco justice? Deity... no, Lord Angel, can you tell ?"]
...
——Procedural justice, outco justice, which is more important?
——Bad person, ideal. Are these two absolute opposites?
Cartoons would always tell him, evil does not triumph over good, the bad person’s ideal is sure to fail, the good person’s ideal will surely co true in the finale.
So he beca a bad person so the good person can realize their ideal.
But why...
Why after four worlds... did Su Ming’an beco so concerned about his companions, even with victory in hand, Su Ming’an was reluctant to move forward?
Xiao Ying had only seen Su Ming’an through the live broadcast room screen. Back then he thought Su Ming’an only needed a Perfect Pass, that sacrificing anyone was acceptable, but he didn’t expect... what he saw was only the image Su Ming’an was willing to show.
He was no different from those people beneath the High Tower.
He wasn’t a desireless and requiteless deity after all.
The black bird sculpture fell into Su Ming’an’s hands, his gaze settled on Xiao Ying, and in an instant, he understood from where Xiao Ying ca.
Five corpses followed the Puppet Threads, swaying behind him, accompanying him to gaze at this rudintary black bird sculpture.
"Dragon Country (China)." Su Ming’an softly read these words.
"...Yes." Xiao Ying forced out these words from his throat:
"That is your and my..."
"Shared hotown."
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