Wen Qianshu was familiar with this scene: clouds like burning fire, a vast sea of forests. She had recalled it in the third world, but she hadn’t expected that their surroundings were not dusk, but dawn.
It was the sun rising in the east, a brilliant and bright morning sun.
Perhaps she hadn’t looked closely at the time, only turning her head to gaze at Jiang Mingyue.
Her heart suddenly started beating faster, faster than ever before, but she didn’t feel any pain. It seemed that just by looking at this person, her discomfort would vanish.
Jiang Mingyue stood to the side, next to Wen Qianshu.
After carrying her up the mountain for so long, Jiang Mingyue’s hair had come a little loose, swept up and down by the wind. Noticing Wen Qianshu’s gaze, she lowered her eyes, her light-colored pupils looking over. “Hm?”
So beautiful—
She was amidst the most beautiful scenery, beside the most beautiful person.
Wen Qianshu smiled. She retracted her gaze and said, “I’ve thought about it. If there’s a next life, I’ll become the wind.”
She raised her head, watching the mountain wind whistle past, stirring their hair, beating against their clothes, and then sweeping up countless fallen leaves and dust as it rushed into the distance.
Free and unrestrained.
“That way, I can go wherever I want, see whoever I want, and do whatever I want. How joyful.”
Jiang Mingyue looked at her, at her shining eyes. It was a different kind of shine from when she ate ice cream, a more distant, more ethereal brightness, as if her gaze and soul were truly following the wind, about to travel far away.
Jiang Mingyue suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. She had never experienced this feeling before and couldn’t describe it, but she subconsciously reminded Wen Qianshu, “Then I won’t be able to see you.”
“You will.” Wen Qianshu smiled and pointed at the fallen leaves on the ground. “If you see a leaf fall, that means I’ve been here.”
A long wind rustled the trees, fallen leaves drifted down.
The warm sun, the crisp morning breeze.
Chirping birds, leaping squirrels.
The gradually awakening mortal world.
Jiang Mingyue wanted to say something, but the alarm in her mind grew louder. The Main God had finally issued an ultimatum, informing her that another system was about to intervene. Yet, her face remained expressionless as she simply asked, “Are you sleepy?”
Wen Qianshu looked up and heard her say, “Lean against the tree and sleep for a while. We’ll go down the mountain when you wake up.”
Wen Qianshu suddenly smiled and said softly, “This isn’t a dream, is it?”
Jiang Mingyue: “What?”
Wen Qianshu spread her five fingers, raised her hand, and clenched it in the sunlight. “This is real, isn’t it?”
Jiang Mingyue was taken aback. She remembered the notebook Wen Qianshu refused to buy. Was that when she realized this wasn’t a dream?
Wen Qianshu blinked, with a hint of youthful cunning. “I’m not easy to fool.”
“Doctor-jiejie—” She moved closer and asked with a smile, “Are you an immortal from the heavens? Is that why you descended to the mortal world to save people? Do you feel sad when you meet someone like me who can’t see a way out?”
Jiang Mingyue: “I’m not.”
She was denying it, but she didn’t know what she was denying.
Wen Qianshu was truly annoying sometimes. She could always perceive others’ feelings, regardless of whether they had noticed them themselves or were willing to.
So many world lines, countless partings by life and death, schemes and conspiracies, suddenly became real at this moment, pressing down on Jiang Mingyue’s shoulders.
Those sorrowful cries, those sharp accusations, that life and death, love and hate, those long years she had walked alone.
Suddenly, someone told her that she knew. She knew that she was suffering.
Jiang Mingyue heard the alarm become increasingly sharp and piercing, heard the sound of a system loading, and suddenly said, “I’m an artificial intelligence.”
Seeing Wen Qianshu’s confusion, she explained, “You can think of me as a robot.”
Wen Qianshu’s eyes widened. “Is that why you feel like you don’t have emotions?”
Jiang Mingyue closed her eyes. “Yes.”
Wen Qianshu smiled. “I don’t think so.”
Having stayed up all night, she was indeed a bit tired, but she wanted to talk to Jiang Mingyue, so she moved closer again, leaning on her shoulder. “I can feel your emotions. The first time you saw me, you were so sad, so compassionate. I sensed it immediately.”
Wen Qianshu looked at the profile of the person beside her, her closed eyes, her trembling eyelashes, and continued, “That’s why I love to cling to you. The sadder you are, the better you are to me.”
“I’m so bad.”
Jiang Mingyue opened her eyes and also turned her head. They were so close, too close. Their breaths and gazes merged and intertwined, seeming to hint at a future destiny where they would be entangled, never to be separated.
Wen Qianshu suddenly said, “So beautiful.”
Was she talking about the scenery, or the person?
It was impossible to tell, impossible to tell anymore—
Wen Qianshu had no intention of distinguishing either. She continued, “I suddenly don’t want to die anymore—”
“Let’s leave freedom for the next life. Forget about it for this one.” She said softly, “The mortal world is beautiful. Let’s look at it a bit more before leaving.”
Jiang Mingyue saw a ball of light appear before her eyes. It was the designated intervening system—but Wen Qianshu couldn’t see it.
And with the appearance of the new system, everything was reverting. Wen Qianshu started to feel pain again. Her body was always in pain, but she was used to it.
So this was what it felt like to not be in pain.
Wen Qianshu was still speaking, softly and gently, “You saw me. You successfully saved me.”
“So don’t be sad anymore, okay?”
Okay? Okay?—
Jiang Mingyue felt her lips tremble. She said, “Okay.”
She turned her head slightly, her cheek resting on the top of Wen Qianshu’s head. She raised her hand and stroked her hair, which was dry from illness. “Get some sleep.”
Wen Qianshu’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. “Okay.”
She smiled and said in a small voice, “See you tomorrow.”
Jiang Mingyue: “See you tomorrow.”
Wen Qianshu fell into a deep sleep. Jiang Mingyue took off her coat and draped it over her.
The ball of light spoke, and it was unmistakably 2333’s voice. “Senior.”
It sounded a bit helpless. “Why have you been violating the rules so often lately? Especially in these last few worlds, it’s getting more and more serious.”
You even directly rewrote an entity in the world.
They could intervene and repair world lines through human bodies, but they couldn’t use the Main God’s power to wantonly alter a world.
It was like how they could hack surveillance systems to monitor people, but they couldn’t rewrite themselves into a listening device and jump into someone’s pocket.
Jiang Mingyue squatted down and lifted Wen Qianshu into her arms. “What’s the punishment?”
2333 sighed. “This time it’s not too bad. It’s relatively easy to restore.”
“Because we can’t expose our existence, we need to delete this supporting character’s memory—”
“She’s not called ‘supporting character’.” Jiang Mingyue said, “She has a name.”
2333 readily complied. “Fine. We need to delete this segment of Wen Qianshu’s memory and return her to the hospital. As for you—”
“For the next ten years, I will follow you to ensure you don’t violate the rules again.”
Jiang Mingyue was silent for a moment, then said, “Fine.”
When she brought Wen Qianshu out, she hadn’t actually thought about persuading her of anything, but just wanted to let Wen Qianshu fulfill her regrets and wishes.
She had tried and failed to save too many people and had long since given up hope.
Now that Wen Qianshu’s memory was also going to be deleted, all of this was even more futile.
2333 deleted Wen Qianshu’s memory and possessed Jiang Mingyue’s body.
They returned to the hospital and placed Wen Qianshu on the hospital bed.
Jiang Mingyue glanced at her, then went out to find the pianist.
The next few days were very busy. After the pianist woke up, she cried and made a fuss. It took several people bustling around her to finally calm her down.
The pianist’s fiancé suggested taking her out in a wheelchair for a walk to clear her mind.
Jiang Mingyue: “She’s not fit to go out for activities right now.”
Fiancé: “Then what should we do, just keep Didi cooped up in here?”
“She’s been lying in bed for days. Who could stand that?”
Jiang Mingyue couldn’t help but let her mind wander, thinking of Wen Qianshu. She had been sick for so long, how long had she been lying in bed?
The fiancé was still talking, but Jiang Mingyue suddenly looked up and saw Doctor Wu passing by the door, hurrying towards the elevator.
Jiang Mingyue lowered her eyes, thinking, that human is about to die.
She’s about to leave this world.
She’s just an ordinary human in this world line.
Saving her or not doesn’t matter—
That was her destiny to begin with—
The Repairer’s Code—
Jiang Mingyue licked her lips. Her fingers grasped futilely in her pocket twice, but caught nothing.
Fiancé: “Alright, I get it. You’re just afraid of trouble, afraid of breaking the rules. Why can’t you think about Didi for a change—hey? Why are you leaving? I’m not finished—”
The man’s voice faded behind her. Jiang Mingyue didn’t even know she could walk so fast. The wind billowed her white coat, accompanying her all the way to the elevator.
The elevator doors were about to close when Doctor Wu saw her, raised a hand to hold the ‘open’ button, and asked with a smile, “Doctor Jiang, what’s wrong? Why the rush?”
Only then did Jiang Mingyue realize that Doctor Wu didn’t seem to be in a hurry. “It’s nothing.”
Doctor Wu made some small talk, but she didn’t hear a single word. She just stared at the floor indicator, tapping her fingers in her pocket. The moment the elevator doors opened, she strode out quickly.
2333: “Senior, what are you doing? The protagonist is—”
Jiang Mingyue: “Isn’t she fine right now?”
“I’m just going to pull Wen Qianshu back. Nothing else. It’s not against the rules.”
2333: “…”
Jiang Mingyue crossed the lobby of the inpatient department and walked all the way to the hospital entrance. From a distance, she saw the couple. As expected, they were arguing.
Jiang Mingyue frowned, her gaze sweeping around, searching for Wen Qianshu. She quickly spotted her. The other girl was standing by the side of the road, watching the passing cars.
Jiang Mingyue quickened her pace and ran over.
As she got closer, she heard the couple’s ugly argument: “Can you stop doing this kind of thing? Is it any use?”
“How is it useless, Wen Zhengde—” Li Huai’ai said viciously, “I’m the only one who treats her like the apple of my eye. If it were anyone else, someone more heartless, they would have stopped treatment long ago and just let her die!”
Jiang Mingyue was about to rush over, but then she saw Wen Qianshu turn around and say, “Can you two stop arguing?”
Li Huai’ai’s attention was diverted. She glared at her. “What do you know? He can’t wait for you to stop treatment, and you’re still always speaking up for him—”
Wen Zhengde cursed a few times, so Li Huai’ai quickly turned back and continued arguing with Wen Zhengde.
But Wen Qianshu pulled her leg back, turned her back to the traffic, and walked back step by step.
Jiang Mingyue was panting, a dazed look on her face. It was the first time she had such a clear expression, but unfortunately, it was hidden by her mask and couldn’t be seen clearly.
She looked at Wen Qianshu, who also noticed her, nodded politely, and gave a weak smile.
2333 had deleted Wen Qianshu’s memory. She no longer remembered Jiang Mingyue.
But she had actually kept her promise.
“You saw me. You saved me.”
“So, don’t be sad anymore, okay?”
In the memory, Jiang Mingyue raised her hand, then lowered it again.
Outside the memory, Wen Qianshu stood beside her and heard her whisper.
She said, “Okay.”
They brushed past each other.
