Chapter 359: Chapter 304: The Person I Love Most Chapter 359: Chapter 304: The Person I Love Most Sonia was answering the question when everyone gathered around to look, even Denzel was no exception.
Then everyone looked at the hooded figure in the painting and then at Ash.
“Isn’t that you?”
“Exactly, I think it’s too,” Ash said, “So the answer to this question can’t possibly be this.”
Although Sonia felt the sa way, she didn’t understand Ash’s confidence: “Why are you so sure?”
“Because the question was ‘the person you love the most,'” Ash said, “Setting aside , what relationship do you think the other two people in the other paintings have with their lovers?”
The crowd hesitated before realizing that Ash was referring to Sonia as the lover.
Diya looked at the middle-aged farmwife and guessed, “Could this be the lover’s (Sonia’s) mother?”
“It could also be a foster mother, teacher, aunt, etc.,” Denzel added, “But no matter who she really is, judging from her age, she likely has a nurturing bond with the lover.”
Sonia nodded: “Even though I don’t have my mories, I feel a connection to her, she’s probably an elder of mine.”
Ash nodded slightly in agreent with their thoughts and pointed at the small, dark-skinned girl in the painting, saying, “What about her?”
Denzel guessed, “Daughter?”
Sonia frowned slightly, “Could it be my sister?”
“Quiet!”
As the discussion continued, a frantic scream suddenly ca from nearby. Diya was seen bending over in pain, forcefully pounding her own head, while her slightly pure hair began to get tainted again.
“Stop yelling, stop it, stop, stop, stop! Don’t argue inside my head!” Her cursing was laced with sobs.
The reason Diya had cald down earlier was that Ash had captured her attention and presented a series of hard-to-falsify deductions, keeping her and her sisters busy digesting the information without a mont to think.
As soon as Ash stopped monopolizing her attention, the sisters’ began to stir as if they had lost the control of a parent. What started as a guess about the identity of the girl in the painting turned into a discussion, then an argunt, and finally into a quarrel that Diya couldn’t stand.
“Bite.”
Diya felt sothing being stuffed into her mouth and instinctively bit down hard. As the sensation of the bite spread throughout her body, the scream stuck in her throat slowly subsided, and the pressure was slowly relieved with the clenching of her teeth, even the sisters’ arguing quieted down.
Only then did Diya realize she was biting Ash’s hand and quickly let go to blow on it, “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt,” Ash said, “Look, there’s not even a mark, you don’t have to worry… This truly is a miraculous place.”
“It’s like drowning when you’re in pain, the harder you struggle, the more you’ll choke and suffer. The right way to save yourself is to stay still and let others pull you out of the water. When you feel uncomfortable, just bite my hand.”
Diya held onto Ash’s hand, hesitated, then nodded, and then licked the spot she had bitten, causing Ash to laugh, “You don’t need to savor it that much, do you? Well, if you’re not feeling well, sis, you can skip our discussion and just focus on eating my hand.”
After a mont, Diya realized the ‘sister’ was referring to herself. She was about to agree, but her expression turned to discomfort again. She opened her mouth and pressed it against Ash’s hand but didn’t bite down, as if looking for the best spot to bite.
But after a mont, she suddenly said, “We think, she’s not the lover’s daughter, not the lover’s sister.”
“She is the lover herself.”
Perhaps as an apology or to prove they were more than just noise, the sisters in her mind told Diya this answer, insisting she voice it.
The others were startled, carefully examining the dark-skinned and skinny little girl in the painting, and then taking a serious look at Sonia. Dressed in a blue and white gown, with a red jacket trimd with gold over her left shoulder, Sonia appeared like the prettiest protagonist on stage, in stark contrast to the flower earning the distinction of being so different from the green leaf of the little girl in the painting.
“While that is possible,” Ash said, “The resemblance in appearance isn’t persuasive enough, is it?”
Sonia also shook her head vigorously—she really didn’t want to associate herself with the ugly little girl in the painting.
On the contrary, Denzel nodded, “Now that you ntion it, they indeed look quite similar.”
“Similar where?” Sonia countered, “The nose, mouth, eyes, don’t they all look different?”
That’s why they hadn’t considered this possibility initially. If this was Sonia as a child, her features should be recognizable since human growth is continuous, and age leaves its traces despite many changes. However, between Sonia and the little girl in the painting, while not completely dissimilar, there were too many differences for one to make the connection at a glance.
“The eyes are very similar.”
Diya shook her head, saying, “She… we think that the little girl’s eyes are exactly the sa as yours, lover.”
“Wary, stubborn, bright.”
Sonia was taken aback, lowering her gaze to et that of the little girl in the album.
Her eyes… are they really so similar to mine?
In the mont when their gazes crossed, as if a miracle was triggered, Sonia blinked and suddenly found herself within the world of the painting.
This was the edge of a forest outside a village, where a small stream flowed from the trees into the town, glittering like stars as it journeyed along the riverbed, danced upon the pebbles, and shone brilliantly in the children’s eyes.
Not far away, a group of children were quarreling. Sonia couldn’t make out what they were saying, but from the children’s expressions and gestures, it was clear that the words, aside from their tone, were most likely personal attacks filled with foul language.
This was not an evenly matched battle; one side was a mixed team, while the other was a one-person army—a little girl standing alone against several peers of her age. She stood on a rock with her hands on her hips, towering over them, her rapidly moving lips and her opponents’ near-tears faces enough to prove it was a one-sided slaughter.
Soon, the other children were chased away by her scolding, but the victor was not pleased. She walked huffily to a large tree near the creek, sat down against the trunk, and tapped her bracelet, summoning a Light Screen to play an educational video.
She was dressed in faded, washed-out clothes, her skin tanned and rough from labor, clearly undernourished and much thinner than her peers, as if a gust of wind could blow her away. She absentmindedly plucked a foxtail grass next to her and twirled it around her finger—a telltale sign of how much ti she must’ve devoted to such a trivial skill.
While this world seed to have granted her little more than sunshine and nature, there was no confusion or despair in her eyes, only a sparkle that told of the agility of her mind, engrossed by the knowledge on the Light Screen.
She hugged her knees tightly to herself, curling up into a ball as if to protect herself, or perhaps to hide.
Seemingly sensing sothing, the little girl turned to look at Sonia. In those naïve and clear pupils, Sonia’s own spherical reflection was mirrored.
“Lover?”
At the sound of Ash’s voice, Sonia snapped back to reality. She looked at the album again, but this ti, nothing extraordinary happened—her previous experience seed to have been a re illusion.
After a mont of silence, Sonia nodded firmly, “Yes, that’s when I was a child.”
Although unsure how Sonia had confird it, it was clear that the opinion of the one answering held the most weight. Ash accepted this assumption and said, “If that’s the case, then the answer is obvious.”
Denzel asked, “Right now, we’re only deducing the identities of these three people, but the question asks who the ‘lover’s’ beloved is. How do you know the answer?”
“‘Beloved’ is essentially about comparing degrees of love. Since there is a comparison, we can use a process of elimination,” replied Ash. “If out of these three people, one must die, who would you choose, lover?”
Sonia barely hesitated, “You.”
“Good, now among the remaining two, if another person must die…” Ash continued, “who would you choose?”
Sonia’s pupils dilated, and she turned to stare intently at Ash.
Diya timidly interjected, “This doesn’t seem quite right. After all, we don’t have any mories right now. If we had our mories, maybe we would make a different choice—”
“We’ve only lost our mories, not changed our personalities,” Ash said, spreading his hands. “If we have to include ‘mory’ as a variable to speculate the correct answer, then this discussion is aningless. Perhaps the lover’s favorite is ?”
“Moreover, mories aren’t set in stone; personality shapes mory.”
Under everyone’s puzzled gaze as if questioning ‘what are you talking about’, Ash explained, “mory is actually a very ambiguous form of subjective information. When you want to hate soone, you disregard their virtues; and when you like soone, you overlook their faults.”
“If you’re cheerful by nature, you likely won’t rember the sad events; if you are resentful, you won’t rember the beauty in the details of life.”
“Love and ‘most loved’ are completely different concepts. mory may make you fall for soone, but that’s because of the affection that arises from commitnt; however, mory can’t change who you love most, because ‘most loved’ ans you’re willing to give your all for them, even change your personality to suit ‘the most loved’—that’s what ‘most’ ans.”
“Therefore, I think, lover (Sonia), your answer to this question won’t change with or without the presence of mory, because you made your choice long ago. You have altered your mories and adjusted your personality to protect ‘your most loved one’.”
“But you don’t need to answer my question,” said Ash, pulling Diya to her feet and gesturing for Denzel to also turn away with him, “Although it’s a bit self-deceiving, we won’t look at your answer. We hope you won’t concern yourself with us and try to give the most truthful response.”
“There’s no need,” Sonia said calmly. “I don’t know you. Why should I care about you? The Knight is right; who my most loved one was had already been determined before we entered the cabin. Therefore, my mory, my personality, and my everything have been for making my most loved one’s life better.”
“So, Sword Maiden, my answer is—my most loved person is this little girl.”
“I’ve seen you guys discussing so animatedly, so I didn’t interrupt,” said the Sword Maiden. “According to the rules, each question equates to one of your treasures. Answer incorrectly and you lose it, answer correctly and you get double the return. The treasure bound to this question is—your Sword Technique Faction Realm.”
“Even though you’ve lost your mories, you who still retain knowledge surely understand the value of this treasure, right?”
Sonia’s expression remained unchanged: “My answer stays the sa.”
“Good,” the Sword Maiden responded crisply. “You answered correctly.”
She flicked her finger, and two streams of golden light entered Sonia’s body: “This is your Sword Technique Faction Realm and your reward—the equivalent Realm of the Ti Faction.”
Before Sonia could digest her reward, the Sword Maiden turned the album to another page: “The second question—out of these three people, who do you dislike the most?”
A woman with disheveled hair, dark circles under her eyes, and her feet on a desk holding a sword.
A female student in a pretty dress, applying makeup in front of a mirror.
And… a woman in pure white silk stockings, sleeves and a short skirt, appearing dignified, graceful, and friendly, but with features that were identical to the variegated Diya.
Diya blinked and pointed to the white version of herself, saying, “First, we eliminate this wrong option—”
“No, don’t eliminate it just yet,” Ash grabbed her wrist. “I think this could be the correct option.”
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