Pinglu City, Public Cemetery.
When officials from government departments pass away, if their relatives have no other arrangements, they are buried here.
Since the vast majority of people nowadays are alone, with hardly any relatives, other situations rarely occur.
The weather was terrible today, overcast and gloomy. Before two o'clock, a light drizzle began to fall.
Fang Qian's funeral was scheduled for three o'clock. Around two thirty, many people began arriving one after another.
Those in uniforms were her colleagues from the Police Department, from the Director down to ordinary Peace Officers—they had all come. Each held a black umbrella, their expressions solemn.
Then came her colleagues from the academy. Led by Qin Qing, many counselors arrived, along with several Lecturers including Shi Jingyi.
There were also some young men and women in black suits—former students who had already graduated. A few of them had a look of shame in their eyes. They were the students who had once condemned Fang Qian.
After stepping into the workforce, it didn't take long for them to realize how wrong they had been back then. That incident shouldn't have been blamed on Fang Qian. She was just a counselor; the higher-ups had ordered her to pry information from the students.
Now Fang Qian was dead. They didn't know how much this had to do with her leaving the academy, or how much it had to do with their condemnation back then. If she hadn't left, would the outcome have been different?
Carrying this unease in their hearts, they came to the funeral, hoping that paying their respects would ease their conscience.
At exactly three o'clock, the funeral officially began.
People raised their black umbrellas in the rain, standing before a newly erected grave.
On the tombstone was a photo of Fang Qian in her Peace Officer uniform. Beneath the photo were her name and age.
Fang Qian, twenty-two years old.
No epitaph.
The funeral was presided over by the Director of the Police Department. Standing at the very front of the crowd, he spoke with deep sorrow: "Fang Qian was an exceptionally outstanding Peace Officer. Though she had only been on the job for a year, she worked diligently every day and made tremendous contributions to Pinglu City's public security. She was a good colleague recognized and trusted by everyone in the department..."
After the Director finished reading the eulogy, several other colleagues who had been close to her spoke in turn, recounting the good deeds Fang Qian had done and how she had helped them.
Then Fang Qian's good friend, Qin Qing, representing the academy, also said a few words. But halfway through, she began to sob and couldn't continue.
"...Qianqian was the kindest person I've ever known. I refuse to believe she would ever hurt anyone. After leaving this world, she must have gone to a place without pain..."
Li Meng, standing at the back of the crowd, had a complicated expression.
He understood what Qin Qing meant. It was an accusation directed at him, blaming him for insisting on investigating the "truth."
Without a doubt, Qin Qing was placing the blame for Fang Qian's death on this matter. She resolutely denied that "truth" because it was the only way to ease the pain in her heart.
Qin Qing was helped away by two colleagues. After everyone paid their respects, the funeral ended. The crowd dispersed, and soon the grave became quiet.
Shi Jingyi stood before the tombstone holding her umbrella. Li Meng hadn't left either.
"Lecturer Shi Jingyi, do you think this was my fault?" Li Meng said. "Was it because I advised her to delete those memories that this happened?"
"..."
"You thought deleting them was better for her, since she hadn't deleted them the first time. You figured cleaning them out would only make things worse. Looking back now, maybe telling her the truth was the right call."
Fang Qian adjusted her glasses, her eyes filled with regret: "Even if it made the memory deletion pointless, at least it would have kept you alive. You wouldn't have gone down that path because deleting too much caused memory confusion."
Shi Jingyi remained silent.
Li Meng put his glasses back on and, before leaving, said, "Lecturer Shi Jingyi, if you see Guan Tong, please pass along my apologies."
After Li Meng left, Shi Jingyi stood alone under her umbrella for a few more minutes until she heard footsteps approaching.
"I thought you wouldn't come," she said without turning around, recognizing the sound of those footsteps.
Guan Tong walked up to the grave, looking at the simple words on the tombstone.
He wasn't holding an umbrella. The rain quickly soaked his hair and clothes.
He stood there silently for half a minute before speaking. "It was her own choice, wasn't it."
"...An overdose of sleeping pills," Shi Jingyi said. "By the time they found her, it was too late."
"..."
"After that rule ended, she returned to the Police Department. She worked and lived normally every day. Her colleagues all thought she was fine. Now it seems those days were just her pretending to be okay."
Shi Jingyi looked at Guan Tong. She knew he had deleted the memory of that day at the Police Department.
But only the memory of that day.
When Guan Tong heard the words "sleeping pills," his emotions were complicated.
The First Doomsday Rule: anyone who fell asleep during that time would never wake up again.
Fang Qian had survived that rule. Yet, nearly three years later, she had gone back—taking sleeping pills to walk the same path, voluntarily ensuring she would never wake up again.
"The memories she deleted... were they about me?"
"Guan Tong..."
"Looks like it," Guan Tong said. "I should have known."
In the Gambling Space, Fang Qian had already tried to do this. She had gone so far as to participate in a formal Gambling Round. Now that the Rules gave her the ability to do it, how could she not try again?
But memories are like that—tugging on one affects the whole. Especially the memory she wanted to delete, which had shaped her personality for over two years. Deleting it was equivalent to deleting the version of herself that came after.
"She asked for my opinion before deleting it," Shi Jingyi suddenly said. "I advised her to face the pain head-on. But she didn't listen. If I had said more, would things have been different?"
"...That has nothing to do with you. She had already made up her mind. Nothing you said would have changed anything."
Fang Qian's bet in the Gambling Space had already shown that her resolve couldn't be swayed by a few words from anyone.
But still.
Guan Tong looked at the tombstone, feeling dazed inside.
He had no strong feelings for Fang Qian. At this moment, rather than grieving for her, he was grieving for himself.
The number of people he knew in this world was limited. Losing Adam and Fang Qian made his connection to this world a little weaker.
Bruce might be a beast worse than an animal, but Guan Tong admitted that what he said wasn't wrong.
This world wouldn't treat anyone kindly, no matter how powerful they were. As long as you kept participating in the affairs of this world, you would suffer more cruelty.
The only way to avoid that was to defy Bruce's "advice"—find a place without people, stay there, and never form connections with anyone.
Just like Guan Tong back then, living self-sufficiently under Mingdao Mountain, completing rule challenges on his own.
But running away forever wasn't what he truly wanted deep down.
He turned to leave. Shi Jingyi said, "Li Meng asked me to tell you he's sorry."
"Unnecessary," Guan Tong said.
"Then is there anything you want to say to me?" Shi Jingyi suddenly asked.
"...What?"
"Last night, during your operation in Suroma, didn't you think about telling me?"
"..."
Guan Tong looked seriously at Shi Jingyi. Today she was wearing a black cloth top and matching pants, not her usual robe-style martial arts uniform. Her jet-black hair, usually tied in a braid, was loose and flowing softly down to her waist.
The rain fell in curtain-like strings, blurring her face. Guan Tong was silent for a long time.
"It was too dangerous," he said, lowering his eyes. "Even before the operation, I knew something could go wrong this time. Adam had no other choice, so neither did I. But you were different."
When Guan Tong obtained the prophecy from Moon Key, he had sensed how dangerous this operation was—sensed that someone might die.
He didn't want to involve Shi Jingyi or Black Star or Bai Xing. If he asked them to help, he couldn't bear the consequences.
"I attended two funerals today. I don't want to attend any more."
Shi Jingyi was stunned by his words.
She could hear the bitterness in Guan Tong's voice that he couldn't hide. Watching him in the rain, her heart was filled with a whirlwind of emotions.
"...In my world, it used to be only the sect and martial arts," Shi Jingyi said, stepping in front of him with her umbrella, blocking the chaotic raindrops falling on him.
"Later, my master passed away. The sect was gone, leaving only martial arts. A world with only martial arts is very lonely. So I accepted the official invitation and became a Lecturer at the academy. Having students around seemed to help me forget that my world was only about martial arts."
"..."
Guan Tong looked at her beautiful face, so close now. Her black hair fell over her forehead and along her cheeks, making her features appear much softer than usual.
"But somewhere along the way, another person entered my world—someone who loves to charge straight ahead, even if he ends up battered and bloody, never stopping."
"When I gain new martial insights, I want to share them with this person. When I develop new techniques, I want to test them with this person. Even if this person isn't by my side, just knowing he exists somewhere in this world keeps the loneliness from creeping in."
"Shi Jingyi..."
"To others, this person is already a world-famous Ascendant, a seemingly all-powerful strongman. But in my eyes, he hasn't changed at all since the first time I met him. He's still that teenager in a motorcycle helmet who loves running around everywhere."
As Shi Jingyi said this, she let go of the hand holding the umbrella and took half a step forward.
Two blurry figures in the rain merged together.
The umbrella spun and fell to the ground, but no one cared anymore.