—Go back and visit the dean during the short holiday.
Time flies and the holiday is here.
"Dean! I'm back." Qin Moyu stood at the door with her backpack on. Before she could finish speaking, the door opened, and she gave the dean a big hug.
"You're so old, yet you still act like a child." The dean complained, but there was no impatience on her face. On the contrary, she was genuinely happy for Qin Moyu's return. She insisted on taking Qin Moyu's schoolbag and nagged, "Were you hungry on the bus? Your food will be ready soon. Wash your hands when you get home, and sit down and watch TV for a while. There's some fruit you like in the fridge, but don't eat too much..."
The barrage of concern left Qin Moyu completely defenseless, and she could only keep mumbling "uh-huh." If the dean hadn't remembered that there was still food heating up in the pot, she probably could have talked for quite a while longer.
But Qin Moyu really liked this nagging, just like the aroma of food wafting in the air right now; this was the home he longed for.
He was lying on the sofa scrolling through his phone when he came across a post on a female classmate's WeChat Moments sharing a recently popular cultivation drama. It was about the love between a domineering master who cultivated the ruthless path and his adorable junior sister. After watching it, he couldn't help but complain: "With an unstable Dao heart, how can one possibly recover without going into seclusion for hundreds of years?"
He was stunned when he said that, because he had been watching the show recently out of boredom and was enjoying it, so why was he suddenly criticizing it so seriously today?
Moreover, he has never cultivated immortality, so how could he know that an unstable Dao heart requires hundreds of years of seclusion?
Before Qin Moyu could figure out the question that had just popped into his mind, the dean called him over for dinner. He immediately stopped thinking about it and happily went to the dean.
The dean wasn't a famous chef, and there were only two of them eating, but he still did his best to prepare a table full of delicious dishes, all of which were Qin Moyu's favorites.
In order to avoid waste, the portions of each dish were not very large, just enough to ensure that Qin Moyu could eat several of her favorite dishes when she came back, but this made things much more complicated.
Qin Moyu was naturally touched to see the table full of food, but she also felt sorry for the dean who had been busy running around. She said, half complaining and half pleading, "Dean, you don't need to cook so much food. It's too much trouble. If we can't finish it, you'll have to eat leftovers, which isn't good for your health..."
The dean chuckled and said, "No trouble at all... As long as you come back, it won't be a problem."
As he spoke, the dean used his chopsticks to place a piece of meat in Qin Moyu's bowl: "Eat more, you've lost weight."
Qin Moyu touched her chubby belly guiltily, grinned foolishly, and said nothing.
They talked and laughed like that, and although they were not related by blood, they acted like a real mother and son.
Qin Moyu was stunned when he picked up a piece of twice-cooked pork and tasted it.
"What's wrong?" the dean asked worriedly.
Qin Moyu paused for a second, then smiled and shook his head: "It's nothing, it's just that I haven't had the Dean's twice-cooked pork in a long time, it feels very familiar."
This little incident quickly passed by, and no one paid any attention to it.
"Dean, let's go to the hospital for a physical examination this afternoon."
"Why bother with these tests? I'm perfectly healthy, it's a waste of money."
The dean's face was full of wrinkles left by time. No matter how much she bleached and dyed her hair, she could not hide the strands of silver hair that kept emerging. The tall figure in her memory had become hunched and short. She knew she was getting old, but the more she did, the less she wanted to admit that she was no longer young.
Qin Moyu knew that the hospital director was used to a hard life and didn't want to spend money at the hospital, but he still pleaded with the director to agree to go for a check-up with him.
Even on weekends, the hospital was still packed with people. Qin Moyu was busy running around, and after the hospital director finished his examination and sent her home, she insisted on staying at the hospital to wait for some of the results.
It wasn't until Qin Moyu found the words "normal digestive system" on the complicated report that his pretense finally crumbled.
"If only all of this were true."
As Qin Moyu murmured to himself, everything around him began to become illusory. The once noisy and crowded hospital lobby became quiet and empty. He stood in the deserted suburbs, the report in his hand turning into a heavy urn.
One drop, two drops...
Tears streamed down his face like broken beads, falling incessantly onto the box. Qin Moyu thought he wouldn't lose his composure again after experiencing it once, but the truth proved that no matter how many times he went through it again, he was still the same Qin Moyu who had lost his loved ones and was in a sorry state.
The base of the formation is not undefended; rather, anyone who gets close to the base will be pulled into an illusion, a world that compensates for all regrets after losing all memories.
The lives that once belonged to others in his memory have become his own. The heart-wrenching regrets have not yet occurred in this world. Just like the dean who was originally the worst at making twice-cooked pork, he "learned" it because of his longing for his master. It can be said that this is a near-perfect world for Qin Moyu.
So perfect that he almost forgot why he came here.
However, he still couldn't forget. He couldn't forget that the dean had kept his rectal bleeding to anemia a secret from him. He couldn't forget that the dean had fallen because of anemia but hadn't told him. He couldn't forget how the dean had died quietly in his room without anyone noticing.
A fake is still a fake, and his guilt towards the dean prevented him from enjoying this perfection with a clear conscience.
So when the illusion realized that the beautiful dream could not stop Qin Moyu, it transformed into another illusion.
"MoMo." The dean's voice seemed to come from afar, ethereal and hoarse.
Qin Moyu hugged the urn tightly, forcing herself to close her eyes and ignore the allure of the illusion.
The dean's familiar voice suddenly turned shrill and unpleasant, like a roar or a voice of resentment.
Why didn't you come back sooner?
"If you had come back sooner, I wouldn't have died alone in my room—"
"The floor is so cold... so cold... why aren't you here with me?!"
Each question was like a knife piercing Qin Moyu's heart, a reflection of the countless days and nights Qin Moyu had spent questioning herself.
—She worked so hard during the holidays to reduce the burden on the dean, but why couldn't she even see the dean one last time?
The saddest thing in the world is wanting to care for one's parents but finding them gone.
Qin Moyu finally couldn't hold on any longer and knelt heavily on the ground with a thud, choking back tears.
If perfection cannot keep Qin Moyu, then the illusion will destroy Qin Moyu's psychological defenses from another angle.
Then a gentle voice seemed to echo from the depths of my being, tempting me: "Stay...stay...and you'll have everything..."
Qin Moyu's body trembled slightly, and he lowered his head deeply, seemingly swayed by these words.