CHAPTER 963: CHAPTER 960: "IN YOUR EYES.

White hair fluttered in the biting cold wind, like slowly melting fine snow.

In her last glance—Tang—finally saw springtime.

...But,

Why?

Why couldn’t even she survive? Why, in order to preserve human history... why did even an old grandma have to die so painfully?

He choked up, holding her headless corpse, crying without a sound. At that moment... he finally understood the immense cost humanity must bear to preserve an era.

Since then, he wore the mask.

A leader does not need to display emotions. Everyone he cared for could become a tool for his enemies.

So—if a leader is emotionless and cold, completely concealing his feelings, becoming a cold statue praised by people, then no one would be hurt because of him.

One by one, people passed by, like torches being exchanged.

Crossing over the corpses of predecessors, silently falling in the blazing flames.

Tang stood amidst the white bones, bearing the weight capable of crushing his spine, chanting their names, carrying the stories of their lives.

—Until the moment dawn was in sight.

Ms. Su Lixian’s research progressed swiftly, she had a doctor companion named "Lin Yuzi," under their leadership, a side-effect-free special medicine had already taken shape.

One night, Su Shize stood at Tang’s door.

Inside, Tang leaned against his chair, his head tilted, his right hand still maintaining a writing posture, before him were hundreds of military records. He wore a mask, his eyes closed, as if he had suddenly fallen asleep while writing.

Until Su Shize stepped in and covered him with a blanket. Only then did Tang open his eyes and continue writing the next day’s military arrangements.

"Tang. You’ve worn the mask for too long." Su Shize looked at him.

Moonlight poured in from the window, tracing the sharp edges of Tang’s pitch-black mask. This mask was an Evil Ghost Mask with terrifying ram horns, meant to frighten those who were discontent.

Tang’s pen halted.

"Haven’t seen your face in a long time, could you take off the mask and let me see?" Su Shize asked.

Tang hesitated for a moment and took off the mask.

Su Shize stared at Tang for a long time.

As the Alliance Hierarch of the Human Self-Rescue Alliance, Tang was not very old. His appearance still bore the awkwardness of youth, his brows and eyes still resolute, yet all these emotions were hidden beneath the Evil Ghost Mask, unseen by anyone.

—He had seemingly become a cold symbol. A metallic medal of war, or a flag. As long as people saw him, they knew the light of the Lighthouse was here, and as for the wavering and suffering of his heart, no one could touch it.

This doesn’t matter.

For a Lighthouse, people only care whether its light shines brightly, whether its base is sturdy enough, not whether it feels pain.

Su Shize continued to stare at Tang for a long, long time, his gaze tracing his brows, nose bridge, and lips, as if engraving this face, which would no longer be shown to others, completely in his mind. Only then did Tang vaguely realize that he had a human face, not just a cold mask.

He couldn’t understand what Su Shize was looking at until their eyes met.

In Su Shize’s eyes, Tang saw many things.

He thought he must be hallucinating, otherwise how could he see so many vivid images all condensed in one person’s pupils?

—White birds fluttering, blooming flowers, timeless poetry and painting.

So beautiful.

It made one want to cry.

He slightly shifted his gaze, seeing rows of photographs on the cabinet—that was during the early days of the war, with people he had been very familiar with, their images he had preserved.

Audis, Lauson, Micheleia, Martha...

"Continue on?" Su Shize brought a chair, sitting with his back to him.

In the moonlight, their shadows were long.

"Yes."

"The side-effect-free special medicine is coming soon, by then, everyone will remember history..."

"Yes."

"But that’s not enough, the deity can erase our history and can do so again. We must still fight until the Holy Alliance Army no longer exists, until humans no longer submit to the deity, until... the deity retracts their decree."

"Yes."

"The road is obstructed and long, Tang. The road is obstructed and long..."

"Yes."

"However, I know you will keep going. When the day of success arrives—I want to go with you to your hometown to see the white morning glory flowers. I remember you said your hometown is full of beautiful morning glories, and if you can find a white one during the festive season, you’ll have peace and happiness for life."

"...Alright."

"At that time, let’s also pick white morning glory flowers for everyone and place them in front of their graves."

"We will."

"Tang. I really hope for that day, you know, my grandfather, grandmother, father, and mother all left in this war."

"I cannot betray their wishes before they left, I cannot not walk into spring..." Su Shize’s voice grew fainter.

"..."

Tang turned back, only to find Su Shize had already fallen asleep. Moonlight spilled onto his somewhat weathered face, both of their brows and eyes carried a similar fatigue.

The chairs backed against each other, making it difficult for Tang to reach Su Shize. So, he merely turned back to gaze, not touching, for a long time until the moonlight shifted, and a faint dawn light rose from the distant mountains.

This place was near the border of Dragon City, with mountains stretching endlessly.

The thermos cup on the table, steeped with goji berries, was still warm. Tang opened the lid, gazed at the steamy heat, and drank it all in one gulp.

A weak pain emerged from his throat, and he realized the water was scalding. His senses had become quite blurred, barely distinguishing even the water’s temperature. He had been carrying the emotions and memories of forty-four people for too long, and never before had a Fire Transmitter lived this long. He clearly perceived his physical condition worsening, even stable walking was challenging.

"..."

He looked at Su Shize, his vision only capturing a blur of moonlight.

It was as if everything turned into moonlight.

He walked to a warm cabinet, took out a white morning glory flower from inside—this was left from his hometown before it was destroyed as the flames of war spread there.

He hadn’t told Su Shize a cruel truth—his hometown had long since been destroyed, razed by the fires they themselves ignited—and there would be no more white morning glories.

He placed this last white morning glory flower on Su Shize’s left breast pocket, fastening it with a "click" of a medal, as if passing on something. He exhaled lightly, relaxing his brows and eyes.

Then, on this land ravaged by war, in this room filled with lists of the deceased, in this beautiful and gentle moonlight—

Tang slowly revealed a tranquil and soft smile.

Identical to his grandmother Martha’s smile.

Like a moonlight.

...

The flowers are so beautiful.

... See it for me.

...

[No.46 link the fire (Fire Transmitter)·Shize Su]

...

The Alliance Hierarch of the Human Self-Rescue Alliance silently passed away one morning.

An ordinary morning.

Outside the window, geese flew over the mountain pass, snow was swirling, the thermos cup still emitting heat, the unfinished military records on the table, the pen tip seeping a few drops of ink, giving the impression that Tang might pick up the pen and complete it.

On the wall hung a few photos, from his travels with his grandmother Martha years ago. Among the full garden of morning glories in the small town, the old lady and the young man held hands, walking towards the bright sunshine, as if he would continue walking.

...But he truly was dead.

Neither the overwhelming burden of leadership nor the mental load enough to crush the body allowed him to reopen his eyes.

Seeing Tang lying on the table as if in a deep slumber, Su Shize felt nothing, his dry eyes devoid of tears.

He knew this day would eventually come, and after Tang’s death, it would be him who received the fireseed.

Su Shize took over the memories and emotions of the forty-five predecessors.

Following Tang’s request in life, Su Shize did not disclose this matter to anyone. He quietly buried Tang in the backyard garden, surrounded by morning glory flowers, with no one watching the funeral. The renowned Lord Hierarch was unanointed the day he died.

The gentle person he was in life left only a cold, wordless tombstone in death, and a white morning glory flower on the verge of wilting. Su Shize tried to speak with him, but Tang would never respond.

Su Shize patted the tombstone, akin to that day he patted Tang’s shoulder, indicating he would always stand by his true friend’s side... now just the same.

The one who so longed to see spring died halfway through his journey.

Su Shize calmed his emotions, making himself strong.

The moment of touching the white morning glory flower, it was just this moment.

Su Shize’s breath stopped for a moment.

Then, he who was originally so dry-eyed that he didn’t have a tear, suddenly turned red-eyed. Tears suddenly rolled down, as if falling from an empty heart. He clenched his teeth, his whole body trembling, almost unable to utter a single word.

"..."

On the petals, there were three lines of small characters engraved.

...

[Do not be sad for my inability to step into spring.]

[Actually, I have already seen spring.]

[——In your eyes.]

...

The geese fly south, snow covers the mountain pass.

Su Shize returned to the room and picked up the Evil Ghost Mask on the table.

He looked into the mirror.

——Slowly, he placed it on his own face.

"...Su Shize." Su Shize stood in the empty room, repeatedly practicing his voice.

"...Spring."

"...Flowers."

"...Love."

He kept chanting various words, constantly adjusting his voice until it matched Tang’s voice.

The Alliance Hierarch of the Human Self-Rescue Alliance cannot die; countless people need this "Lighthouse".

Therefore, "Tang" will not die.

His fingers pressed against the edge of the mask, completely covering his face. He put on Tang’s clothes, and a single cut of the scissors severed his sideburns. Using Tang’s voice, he mimicked his accent and small gestures.

——The ideals you have not fulfilled, I will fulfill.

——The tomorrows you have not realized, I will create.

Your everything, will be inherited by me.

The cold moonlight of that night has already passed, he is growing older day by day, yet Tang has forever remained frozen at his youngest, the time of that idealistic young man is fixed, never to move forward again.

Su Shize chanted ancient ballads and poetry to firmly take his steps, opening the door to face countless expectant gazes.

Then,

As the Alliance Hierarch of the Human Self-Rescue Alliance, and as the Deputy Director of the City Guardian Department——

He stood on the high platform, spread his arms, opened his mouth, and shouted——

——You must hold high the torch of civilization in your hand and move against the wind.

——You must hold high the Morning Star of history in your hand and rise against the tide.

Even if its scorching flames will lick your hands, your body, every part of your flesh, burning you to ashes.

It flows in your blood, continuously flowing, until it reaches the next Fire Transmitter, reaching every Fire Transmitter——

And then converges into an ocean,

Converges into the dawn of a new birth.

...

From today——

You are now my 45th [Vest].

I am your everything.

...

Actually, I have already seen spring,

In your eyes.

...

[No.47 Link the fire · Lixian Su]

...

The forty-seventh painting, a woman with black hair draped over her shoulders holding a blue glass bottle, stands smiling under a fully blooming flower tree.

The flower tree is lush, Chinese plum blossoms dotted among the leaves, white roses climb the walls, and the ceiling is adorned with pure white lilies.

She sits in front of the stringed instrument, softly singing.

"That spark... once hidden in the ebbing tide of Baghdad..."

"Shall I sing of the revolutionaries’ blood,"

"So that the tyrant will no longer poison life?"

"Shall I explore the trajectory of savagery,"

"So that our days and thoughts become civilized?"

"Why are you... silent...?"

Until a brown-haired woman walked up to her, gently saying: "Lixian. The front line has receded, to ensure the safety of the special medicine, we must take it and escape."

Lixian Su stopped strumming the stringed instrument, slightly smiled: "Then let’s go, Yuzi."

After Su Shize passed away, the Fireseed was handed to Lixian Su. She is the most renowned mysticist of the time, researching a special medicine without side effects. Inheriting the memories of her predecessors aided her research. Lin Yuzi is her doctor companion.

The soldiers escorted the two of them out of this research facility. Lixian Su has always carried the memories of the previous forty-six, and to preserve her own self, she practiced painting and playing the stringed instrument with Lin Yuzi during her free time, to remember who she is through passion. Her survival time exceeded that of Tang and Su Shize, finally waiting for the birth of the special medicine.

This research facility was filled with her paintings and flowers she planted, and a stringed instrument gifted by Lin Yuzi, but unfortunately, they could not take them along.

"Yuzi, we will walk into spring, won’t we?"

During their escape, Lixian Su sat in the back seat, tightly holding Lin Yuzi’s hand. Lixian Su slightly smiled, bright as flowers. Her appearance remains young, her eyebrows curved, and her love for the world is the best anti-aging technique.

"Of course."

Lin Yuzi tightly held her hand, rubbing the ring on her ring finger.

"My child... Su Wensheng. The moment I took the glass bottle, I knew that in this life, I could never be close to him again, I couldn’t see him, not even communicate with him." Lixian Su whispered: "Otherwise, the Holy Alliance Army would suspect he has become the next Fire Transmitter. Only by never seeing him could he be truly safe."

"Although it’s to protect him, I... am deeply sorry to him, it’s my life’s biggest regret."

"I am... an unqualified mother."

She opened the compartment in the necklace, where there was a photo of a small boy. She held up the necklace and slowly kissed it.

"You are a qualified hero." Lin Yuzi embraced her: "I also miss... my Yi Zhongyu, he is only ten..."

In the escape vehicle, the most renowned mysticist of the time held the glass bottle as brilliant as the Morning Star, slowly embracing her true friend. They spoke of their longing and reluctance for their children, holding the Fireseed, attempting to defeat the supreme with the insignificant.

Together carrying the same heat, the same light weight, the same burning. Bearing the same consequences.

"Grow up, grow up..."

Amidst the wind-blooming flower gardens, the vehicle raced by, leaving behind all the fighting, all the chasing.

Lixian Su’s singing floated, like a free bird.

"My child."

"You must grow into a person you are proud of."

"You must grow into a free person."

"Shout to the white bird, you have grown into a fine person..."

"Child, child, please don’t go never to return, please don’t go never to return."

"I cannot betray their wishes before leaving, I must step into spring..."

...

"Mother so wishes to see you grow up..."

"Grow up, grow up."

"Link the fire."

She smiled a little, her voice somewhat choked.

...

"For her... step into spring."

...