The self in the photo is wearing a light gray uniform, standing between the parents with a silly smile.
"The year your brother went missing, you weren't born yet," mother gently rubs the photo with her fingertips:
"Your dad still went to the police station every Wednesday to inquire about progress until he left, never let go in his lifeti, still thinking about him before he passed away."
Raindrops beat against the window, but Ji Chen's ears are filled only with the sound of his mother's voice in the video images.
"I rember you always asked why your brother's room was kept the sa; the reason is simple, we always had unrealistic fantasies that maybe one day he'd co back, and if he saw his room changed, he'd be so heartbroken."
"Xiao Xing, mommy knows you're busy developing weapons. This might be the last video ssage mommy leaves you, my body has reached its limit, finally can go find your dad and your brother."
The video ends here.
In the instant the light dims, Ji Chen sees his own aging reflection on the desktop screen.
A person who should have died, yet now sits in the future two hundred years later, listening to his mother's final words to another son.
Ji Chen's chest feels like it's being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, making it hard to breathe.
Over two hundred years, ti is enough to smooth many things over.
The inhuman tornt, isolation enough to destroy one's spirit, long since forged him into a silent shell.
He thought his emotions would rarely be stirred again.
Yet now, faced with this simplest of farewell videos, he cannot suppress his emotions.
His mother's voice, crossing over two hundred years of ti, gently knocks at his eardrums, piercing precisely into the heart he thought long dead.
It turns out so pains never truly grow numb.
A teardrop falls from his only remaining right eye, landing on the back of his hand.
He slowly raises his hand, touching the screen, his fingertips gently brushing over his mother's aged face in the photo.
"Mom, I'm back." The voice is hoarse beyond recognition.
Two hundred years of ti stretched in between, rendering this calling so pale.
No matter how much he's been through, seen the vicissitudes of the otherworldly, yet at this mont Ji Chen still feels like a child lost for too long.
Those corners hardened by ti have thoroughly shattered in this call unable to be answered.
The neon outside dyes the rain into a riot of colors, light trails from hover cars trace fleeting trajectories in the night sky.
Ji Chen's gaze grows distant, his heart suddenly feeling incredibly bewildered.
mories with his parents are like a dusty old window.
Now suddenly pushed open.
Those images once thought blurred now appear so clearly they make his heart tremble.
He rembers, father always loved to peel an apple after dinner, coarse fingers pinching the small blade, pulling the peel into a long spiral strip.
Mother's hands always carried a faint hand cream scent, always complaining about him and father turning the study into a junkyard, often swapping father's coffee for stomach-friendly hot milk.
Father's shoes were always polished to a shine before going out.
Mother would unconsciously hum while cooking.
The green vines on the balcony died then revived, revived then died, none of the family of three could recall to water them.
These trivial daily monts suddenly beco so vivid.
For over two hundred years, he thought he had forgotten these insignificant details, yet now they rush to the forefront of his mind, suffocating Ji Chen.
Those scenes, never to be returned to, carve themselves into his mind.
After another deep breath, Ji Chen looks up at the screen, resetting the search function.
Before long, new information appears.
[Ji Xing (2326-2405)]
Description: Researcher of new-style weaponry, died in the Double-edged Clan's city massacre.
Marital status: Single
Direct descendants: None.
…
After the brother's death, there were no direct descendants left in this branch.
Towards the brother he never t, he feels no emotion.
But the bloodline his parents left, he ultimately cannot completely ignore.
He rembers the father's oft-repeated words:
"The Ji Family…"
This brother nad Ji Xing was the child filled with the parents' mories and expectations after losing him.
Also, he carried on the sa surna, embodying the hopes of his parents' remaining lives.
But now, this line too has broken.
A sense of regret quietly grows in the heart, and mories of the alien world follow along.
In his parents' eyes, he simply disappeared.
But the truth is far more absurd than missing, because he traveled through ti.
Ji Chen clearly rembers being swallowed by a blinding white light while riding an elevator.
Upon opening his eyes, he found himself in a world suspended beneath twelve blood moons.
Alongside him on the Transmission Altar were various alien figures.
Feathered People with winged scales, Forest People with tree bark-like skin…
Before the altar, on a towering white throne, sat a God known as "White Demon," with a cascade of silver hair.
When its fingers grazed by, his forehead was branded with a burning mark.
A continuously rotating snowflake-shaped Rune, indicating he officially beca a sustainer.
Could also be understood as: Slave.
Though he had yet to understand the otherworld, the White Demon killed off those randomly summoned unsuitable creatures, leaving only the ones of flesh form.
After which, the White Demon used telepathic ssaging to teach them Cultivation thods: Blood Sacrifice.
Rather than cultivation, it was more akin to a special contract.
They must absorb nature's spiritual energy as required, converting it to blood color energy stored within the body.
At intervals, this energy would automatically transmit through the imprint to the White Demon, as the price for survival rights.
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