"You're clumsy, foolish, and always trying to act smart. If only Mom could take care of you forever..."

In the past, many times, her mother had said this.

But in reality, Zhenxi knew what she really wanted to say wasn't those final words.

What she wanted to say was... if only you could have a normal person's life.

Laugh like a normal person, cry, walk under the blue sky, not fear a cold after getting wet in the rain, and not worry about falling when running.

Live a life of going with the flow, like everyone else, learning, working, getting married, having children, retiring, aging, and eventually dying on a sickbed, peacefully or uneasily.

Living a complete life.

Sadly, such a life was destined to have no connection with her. From the moment she was born, the world gradually became completely different.

When her overly abundant physical ability from a young age reached a point where running would cause her skin to crack, she already knew what kind of fate awaited her future.

She had to make a choice.

Make more choices than a normal person would...

The more difficult life is, the more choices one has to make, the poorer it is, the harder it is to choose—because it's not a simple choice between two, but rather giving up one of the two.

She gave up a curry pork cutlet that was three hundred bucks more expensive and chose the cheaper udon. She gave up athletics that would harm her body, choosing a temporarily stable physical state and life. She gave up the dream of a big, far-off city and chose to be a country bumpkin. She gave up beautiful fantasies and chose to work and take entrance exam prep classes, grounded in reality.

Ultimately, she gave up the peace of Dàoquán Village and chose the nebulous hope of a lifeline...

The more she gained, the more she had to give up.

She chose to live with nothing, like living like wild grass.

Yet she sincerely hoped... perhaps, one day she could be like Miss Huaizhi, solitary and strong, never having to give up anything again.

But when her naïve fantasy was torn apart, what awaited was the final abandonment, the final choice.

Before her consciousness could react, her body had already reacted first.

Just like everyone had always said—maybe fools live by their instincts?

Before pulling the trigger, Zhenxi maintained a mechanical-like numb indifference.

Because an invisible sharp blade had already severed her.

Half of her was cold and calm, using every favorable condition for her benefit, using the Black Card and weapons. It wasn't an impulsive action or panic out of control, but a clear recognition of every possible outcome and eventuality,

Calm, as if solving a math problem.

To honor her promise, she gave up running away; to protect Miss Huaizhi, she gave up immediate help; to save more innocent people, she gave up past favors; to stop all this...

In that moment, she reached the final conclusion—that she must kill Uncle Horn Mountain.

So, Zhenxi pulled the trigger.

Less than a third of the other half of herself, in the darkness that the dazzling light couldn't illuminate, silently wept.

She gave up all luxurious desires and fantasies, those happy futures and unrealistic dreams.

This was her final choice.

When the crisp auditory hallucination played at her ear, the luck worth ten million dollars descended.

The blazing light of judgment roared, bursting forth. What arrived with pure destruction was a recoil comparable to a tank's main gun and silent death.

A beam of light, as thick as a thumb, crossed the short distance, piercing precisely into the astonished face of Horn Mountain, tearing through his soul, ripping through the body, and with heat enough to evaporate Source Substance, rushed away.

A red-hot iron needle etched a scorched and dried trajectory on the canvas of the world, unreasonably traversing the vast distance, tearing through the embryonic membrane of self-formation, vanishing into the edge of sight.

Then came a long silence.

Zhenxi panted heavily, her arm holding The Fly King trembling slightly, her sleeve already evaporated under the rampant heat. But surprisingly, her arm and bones remained unscathed.

Only the web between her thumb and forefinger, gripping the gun, split open with a delicate trace, brought about by the inconsequential harm of muscles tearing the skin.

A miracle had abruptly descended, then quietly withdrawn.

Horn Mountain stared in astonishment at the teenage girl before him, as if he hadn't yet realized what had happened. He instinctively took a step forward, staggering, then another step...

With a huge crack and a bloody hole on his forehead.

His lips moved silently, as if trying to say something, but no sound emerged.

He strained to open his eyes wide, trying to find the trace of the girl from the darkening world.

In the end, his numb body fell forward, fumbling clumsily, finally touching the shape of her cheek, like a drowning person desperately trying to grasp a lone straw of wild grass, exerting all his effort.

With difficulty, he smiled.

Trying to say something...

But at that moment, his actions froze, leaving no trace.

Zhenxi looked down in a daze, noticing the hand caressing her cheek slowly slip away, leaving a trail of blood, and that peaceful face, neither resentful nor angry, even until the end.

Just like that, her body gradually slumped to the ground, losing all its strength.

Feeling no emotions at all.

In this brief silence, she gazed long at those eyes, now devoid of light, trying to discern what he wanted to say in the end.

But everything had already vanished with death.

Leaving no trace.

Only the blood gradually cooling.

This was the result she chose, the things she gave up.

When Zhenxi raised her head again, she saw Miss Huaizhi standing beside her at some unknown moment, along with her eyes filled with piety and silence.

She tried hard to smile, but in the end, she could only squeeze out a hollow expression.

"Miss Huaizhi... why are there so many cruel things in the world?"

In the silence, Huai Shi couldn't avoid such a lonely gaze and responded: "Perhaps this is just how the world is."

This world has never been gentle.

A person's life happens only once, but things more precious than life are far more numerous. There are so many things you want to obtain, and so many things you must give up...

It has always been like this, never changing.

"Is it the same for you, Miss Huaizhi?" Zhenxi asked in a trembling voice.

"Yes."

Huai Shi nodded, speaking calmly: "One always needs to give up, it's always painful, and it feels very sad, not knowing what exactly to do."

"Then why... why continue?"

Zhenxi choked, unable to understand: "Why continue with such a painful life, why must choices be made?"

"Perhaps, it's for something more important?"

Huai Shi squatted down, gazing into her eyes, and solemnly told her: "Zhenxi, people don't live for pain, and we don't make choices just to give up.

Although giving something up will be sad, if you don't make any choices, you can't grow as a person, and there will be no future to speak of."

Sometimes, you will make choices.

You give up certain things, then gain something else. Maybe in the end, nothing good will come of it, but if you don't make a choice, nothing will happen.

People who remain in place won't understand this tragedy.

He reached out, embracing the teenage girl in front of him, softly comforting, "Everyone has different reasons, perhaps you think I speak big words without concern, but one day, you'll understand and have your answer."

"Miss Huaizhi, I... I... I just..."

Like grabbing a lifeline, she clutched Huai Shi's hand, trembling.

Clearly wanting to say many things, but her throat choked.

Completely, unable to speak a word.

Only tears, uncontrollably flowing down.

From initial sobbing to uncontrollable desperate weeping and coughing, hoarsely shouting words she couldn't understand herself, the pain surging beneath the ice like a tide suddenly emerged, hard to restrain.

In the instant of finally giving up on escaping, she finally experienced the immense pain brought by constant renunciation.

And the realization brought by pain—

The so-called self.

The phantom light of source substance illuminated Huai Shi's eyes.

From Zhenxi's shell, slowly taking form in the soul, a faint light shone, her nature sublimated.

Huai Shi froze in place, in disbelief.

It was... sublimation?

He never dreamed he'd be lucky enough to witness others' sublimation in his lifetime—this was when the first spark was ignited, consciousness transcending from the Sea of Silver, casting the soul's extraordinary spectacle.

Just for a moment, that brilliant yet lonely glow flashed and disappeared, completing metamorphosis, returning to restraint.

From then on, everything became entirely different.

In drowsiness, the crying teenage girl finally fell into deep sleep.

"Was it sublimation? Such true talent and beautiful jade, I didn't expect the Li Jian family to have a second talent comparable to Shou Jing that kid... No, it should be said, it's the change you brought about."

Behind Huai Shi, a low voice sighed: "Miss Huaizhi, you are the creator of this miracle."

Huai Shi turned around abruptly in fright, furrowing his brows.

He didn't know when, but another silhouette had appeared beside him.

It was an unfamiliar middle-aged man, but seemed vaguely familiar, with a handsome yet dignified face, eyes entirely black without a hint of white, carrying an inexplicable wickedness and madness.

Merely being looked at, one could feel a thick sense of threat and unease.

Yet it was precisely this feeling that made Huai Shi incredulous.

"You are... Guo ShouQue?"

"You actually saw through it?"

The middle-aged man grinned slightly, the teasing tone as usual: "I was going to give you a surprise... quick reaction indeed."

Huai Shi instinctively pressed his hand on The Fly King beside Zhenxi.

"No need to rush into action."

Guo ShouQue gently waved his hand, retreating a step: "Rest assured, though I harbor some malice, it doesn't extend to violence with fists and feet, nor do I plan to attack you."

Saying this, he lifted the steaming pot in his hand, smirking triumphantly: "Just made a pot of good soup, rejuvenating enough to take years off my old self... Shame to share it with no one, care to have some?"

The pleasant aroma wafted over, a sweet and rich freshness lingering on the nose, even from far away, making one's mouth water.

No doubt, it was a rare Chef Demon dish, an uncommonly fine product.

It could turn an almost two-hundred-year-old monster back to his middle-aged state, it was probably indeed a superb tonic.

But could this guy really be so kind-hearted?