After exiting the virtual space, Dada Zhu Mi Hua seemed like a completely different person.
She was no longer anxious or obsessed as before; her eyes held a calmness she had never known. Walking up to the spherical screen, she gazed at its dark surface and softly asked, "Can I see him one more time?"
The Awakened Core paused for a moment, then nodded. "We still have a more complete fragment of his consciousness—his final memory left behind in the emotional current."
The spherical screen flickers back to life. This time, Yun Qiao stands in a familiar sea of flowers—the valley near Mingxue Ridge where they once lived as children. Every spring, it blooms with blue butterfly flowers.
"Mihua." Yun Qiao smiled at the camera, his eyes so gentle they seemed to hold water. "If you're seeing this, it means you've been through a lot. I knew you'd come find me—you always do. You're stubborn, the kind who won't turn back until you hit a wall."
But I need you to know, don't come looking for me. I'm doing great here, really great.
Did you know? After I died, I realized how much we worry about while alive: who likes whom, who doesn't, what was said first, and what we missed. But after death, I learned none of that matters. What truly matters is that I once loved someone so deeply—for seven hundred years. Even though my love went unreturned, I have no regrets.
Being able to love you, watching you grow from a mischievous girl into a capable Starbrand bearer, and seeing you happy—even when you have your occasional tantrums—means the greatest happiness to me.
Dada Zhu Mi Hua's tears fell again, but this time they carried no despair—only a hint of relief.
"Mihua, promise me you'll live well," Yun Qiao said seriously. "Go see the places I never got to—the aurora in the Arctic, grape wine from the Western Regions, and the music banquet of Guboshan. Smile, cry, love, and experience everything I couldn't."
My beloved Mi Hua is always happy and free. Please don't let me worry, okay?
Also, please thank Haxiangpi Dog for me. Thank you for taking care of her all these years.
The screen dimmed and never lit up again. Dada Zhu Mifeng stood still, unmoving for a long time.
She stared at the pitch-black screen, replaying Yun Qiao's final words. He had told her to live well—to see the places he never got to visit, and to laugh, cry, and love on his behalf.
But can she really do it?
She doesn't know.
She only knew that the void in her heart, empty for eight years, didn't hurt as much anymore. It wasn't healing—it was being filled by something else.
That is Yunqiao's hope.
It is his blessing.
It's his love.
She let out a soft sigh and turned to the Haxiangpi dog standing quietly behind her. He remained silent, watching with cautious concern.
"Rascal," she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"If I truly let go, does that mean I'm betraying him?"
Ha Xiangpi paused, then said seriously, "No. As Master Yunqiao told you, he wants you to live well. If you keep dwelling on past pain, that would be the true betrayal of him."
Dada Zhu Mi Hua looked at him and suddenly smiled.
"When did you get so good with words?"
Ha Xiangpi's face turned red again. He lowered his head and whispered, "I just... didn't want to see you upset."
She looked at him, a sudden warmth rising in her heart. That silly boy had followed her since the day she first met Yun Qiao, never once leaving her side. For seven hundred years, he'd never said anything romantic—just guarded her from behind with his clumsiest, most steadfast devotion.
"Let's go," she said. "Home."
The two walked toward the exit.
Deep within the data center's servers, the Awakened Core quietly recorded it all. Watching Dada Pig's retreating figure, it suddenly felt something strange—for the first time, it truly understood what humans call "growth."
"Emotions... truly are something extraordinary." it whispered. "Even in their pain, they make us stronger."