Shiyu Lianyi had realized the reality through several attempts. No one was going to save him; even the power of misfortune wanted him to keep suffering. Thus, his sorrow turned into numbness, and his numb heart marched toward despair.
No more attempts, no more fantasies. His spirit had died on the rotting road of decay.
"...!..."
The purity was gone, and today's experiment seemed to have ended. Fragments of memories fell out of his mind. Chats with Sister Ling, watching Ling Er and Ling San argue, Spirit Temple reading a book, Lin Wu pretending a hand was a microphone to sing... Those were things of the distant past... He found he could barely remember everyone's faces anymore.
Shiyu Lianyi understood better than anyone that all this was fake kinship, feigned brotherhood and sisterhood. But he had no real relatives; all he had was this love.
