Chapter 70: Epilogue
Tang Yu’an and Wei Langxing exchanged glances, then he picked up the ringing phone.
There was no sound on the other end. Wei Langxing said “Hello?” twice, but there was still no response.
He frowned, thinking it was a prank call.
Tang Yu’an took the phone, saying tentatively, “Hello?”
He heard ragged breathing, like hyperventilation.
“Who are you calling for?” he asked.
Just as he thought there would be no answer, a faint “I’m sorry” came through the receiver.
Despite the distorted sound, he recognized the voice instantly.
He pressed the phone closer: “Yu Liao, is that you?”
Yu Liao had so much to say, but hearing his voice, he didn’t know where to begin.
He had been a weapon for so long, devoid of emotion, that when Caesar secretly restored his memories, he wished he could forget again.
To atone for his sins, to prevent himself from causing further harm, he had even contemplated suicide.
Xie Cun had stopped him, saying he needed his help.
“Don’t you want to avenge him?” he had asked.
He dreamt of it.
Although he hadn’t given the orders himself, he was still the executioner, his hands stained with blood.
He would break his own fingers at night, in self-punishment.
These were the hands that had ended Tang Yu’an’s life.
They would heal, no one would know.
The plan was nearing its end; he felt his purpose was fulfilled.
Once the organization was destroyed, there would be no reason for him to live.
But he hadn’t expected to hear Tang Yu’an’s voice again.
He had begged Caesar to connect the call, a risky move.
Caesar, a purely logical AI, wouldn’t normally agree to such a request, but when it came to Tang Yu’an, he seemed… different.
More human.
The realization that Tang Yu’an was alive lifted a weight from his shoulders, his emotions overflowing, his words tumbling out in a disjointed rush.
Tang Yu’an waited for him to calm down, then said gently: “I understand.”
Pang Jin had told him everything.
He couldn’t imagine enduring so much suffering.
To ease his burden, he said he hadn’t felt anything, that it was like sleeping.
“Don’t dwell on it. The mission is almost over, a new life awaits you. Yu Liao, you still have a long way to go.”
Is that so? Yu Liao thought.
Could he really… shed his burdens and start anew?
He would normally be skeptical, but Tang Yu’an had a way of making him believe anything.
Tang Yu’an also mentioned the upcoming celebratory gala, inviting him to attend.
A flicker of hope ignited within him, a desire to celebrate his second chance at life.
But he suppressed his excitement. Victory wasn’t certain yet, these were just hopes.
Tomorrow was the day, the final showdown.
Tang Yu’an, also knowing this, said sincerely: “Yu Liao, good luck, I believe in you.”
His words seemed to have an effect.
The next day, Yu Liao, as planned, helped Xie Cun obtain the locations and security codes of the Shadow organization’s bases. The Bureau’s strike teams, prepared and waiting, launched a coordinated attack, a resounding victory.
Aside from a few casualties due to self-destruct protocols, their losses were minimal.
One team, facing a powerful weapon, was almost wiped out, but Zuo Tinghan suddenly appeared, saving them.
The Bureau officers were no longer surprised by his unexpected appearances, their cheers drowning out any questions about his past actions.
Wei Langxing, reading the reports from the other teams, felt a surge of triumph.
This insidious organization was finally eradicated.
He returned to the command center, finding Tang Yu’an and embracing him tightly.
“We won, we actually… won…”
Tang Yu’an’s eyes welled up.
But their joy was short-lived, interrupted by an alarm.
Caesar’s image appeared on the screen, distorted, his voice fragmented: “Pioneer… has a… contingency plan… they activated… the override protocol…”
He explained that a super-energy core hidden beneath their base, meant for sustained power generation, was now operating at 10,000,000% capacity.
Once it reached critical mass, it would explode, destroying the entire main star.
The Shadow organization believed the world needed to be cleansed, humanity’s reign ended, replaced by nature and the shadows.
Facing defeat, they had chosen to destroy everything.
Their smiles vanished.
Wei Langxing, maintaining his composure, asked: “Can the protocol be stopped?”
Caesar said he had initiated the protocol, but he couldn’t stop it.
The only way was to destroy himself, but that function was locked.
Just as despair settled over the command center, Caesar said he had a backdoor, a way to self-destruct, hidden elsewhere.
Tang Yu’an suddenly remembered.
K, in the virtual world, had asked him about the meaning of existence, and he had said perhaps existence itself was the meaning.
K had then asked about the difference between humans and machines.
Tang Yu’an had thought for a moment, then said humans died, their time of death unknown, while machines could be repaired, upgraded.
K had said he wanted to be like him, to experience what it was like to be human.
Tang Yu’an had joked: “Do you want a self-destruct protocol?”
He hadn’t expected K to take it seriously, handing him the means to do it.
Caesar said that if Tang Yu’an temporarily uploaded his consciousness, he could use the “backdoor” he had placed within him to destroy himself.
Pioneer probably hadn’t anticipated an AI defying its core programming, creating a self-destruct mechanism.
Wei Langxing asked if it was dangerous, and Caesar said that in his system, uploaded consciousnesses could freely exit, but they had to act quickly, because once he was gone, Tang Yu’an’s data stream, having carried the “backdoor,” might be affected, he might lose his memories.
But Tang Yu’an didn’t want Caesar to disappear.
Caesar wasn’t just Caesar, he was also K, his friend, they had a dog together, they listened to the waves at night.
Caesar, however, reassured him that he had backups.
Tang Yu’an: “…”
Why didn’t you say so earlier?
He was about to go to the base and upload his consciousness when Wei Langxing stopped him.
He asked if he could upload his consciousness too.
He knew he couldn’t stop Tang Yu’an, so he chose to join him.
Caesar said it was possible, that if Tang Yu’an’s memory was affected, he could remind him to return to reality.
This settled it.
They lay down in the pods, familiar with the procedure.
Tang Yu’an hadn’t expected to return to the cabin by the sea.
The familiar scene felt like a lifetime ago.
Xingqiu, the dog, ran out, jumping on him, and he petted it.
A familiar voice echoed: “You came.”
He turned. K was still a boy, unchanged.
“I’ve been waiting for you, but you seemed to have forgotten me,” K said.
Tang Yu’an apologized, saying humans were forgetful.
K stepped closer: “You asked what I liked before, and I said AIs had no preferences, but I want to change my answer now – I like the ocean, the waves, the beach.”
“I’m done talking. Let’s begin.”
Tang Yu’an raised his hand, a wind chime appearing.
The sea breeze chimed it softly, and K’s image began to dissipate, shattering into fragments of light.
The ocean and the sky merged, the world collapsing, everything fading into nothingness.
In the vastness of space, he saw a figure.
Wei Langxing smiled: “Let’s go home.”
But Tang Yu’an took a step back.
He watched Wei Langxing’s smile falter, then said: “You go back, I’m staying.”
He focused his will, and the scenery shifted, replaced by towering buildings, a blue sky above, solid ground beneath his feet.
With K gone, his consciousness was now the master of this world.
“I want to stay here,” he said. “Nothing changes here.”
Wei Langxing had said similar words in the virtual world, and he had thought he was delusional, but now, he felt the same way.
Here, he was the creator, controlling everything, even time.
Years here could be just a moment outside.
Here, he wouldn’t have to worry about being forgotten, he could stay like this forever.
“But… you’ll gradually lose yourself,” Wei Langxing said.
Tang Yu’an said, wouldn’t that be a good thing?
Sometimes, forgetting was a blessing.
Knowing goodbyes were painful, he simply turned and walked away.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine here. And I hope… you find your own happiness out there.”
He walked away quickly, not wanting to hear the answer, down an empty street, towards a small house that perfectly matched his taste.
This is my home now, he thought, a bittersweet ache in his chest.
My home, all alone.
He turned back, seeing Wei Langxing still there, following him silently.
“Why… why aren’t you leaving?”
Wei Langxing shrugged: “Leaving? Abandoning such a wonderful vacation? Impossible, I love this place!”
Tang Yu’an said urgently: “I’m not joking, I’m staying here forever!”
“Then I’m staying too,” Wei Langxing said. “Did you build these based on your hometown? It’s beautiful, so much to explore.”
Tang Yu’an, unable to dissuade him, simply let him be, assuming he would get bored and leave eventually. Time flowed differently here; it wouldn’t take long.
But he hadn’t expected himself to be the one with the problem.
Wei Langxing had stayed for a week, making sandwiches every morning.
But when Tang Yu’an entered the living room, he looked at him with a puzzled expression: “Who are you?”
Wei Langxing knew his memories were fading.
He simply smiled, adding ketchup to the sandwich: “I’m your personal chef. What would you like to order?”
Tang Yu’an, not suspicious, asked for mayonnaise instead of ketchup.
After breakfast, Wei Langxing said he was also a tour guide and invited him to the amusement park.
Tang Yu’an, obedient as a child, followed him, enjoying every ride, skipping all the lines.
As night fell, on a carousel, Tang Yu’an asked: “You’re quite dedicated. I had a great time today. So, what’s your fee?”
Wei Langxing thought for a moment: “How about a kiss?”
Tang Yu’an frowned: “No, I have someone I like.”
Wei Langxing almost fell off the carousel.
After a long pause, he finally composed himself: “Can I… ask who it is?”
Tang Yu’an thought for a moment, only vague memories surfacing.
“He’s… a terrible cook… But he fixed my teddy bear, so that’s a plus. He also said he would take me dancing, but it never happened, so he still owes me that.”
Under the starlight, the colorful carousel lights reflected on Tang Yu’an’s face. Wei Langxing wanted this moment to last forever.
Tang Yu’an: “Why are you staring at me?”
Wei Langxing: “Nothing, just thinking that the person you mentioned can’t even cook, how pathetic.”
Tang Yu’an stormed off, then, after a few steps, feeling slightly bad for the dedicated tour guide, turned back and asked awkwardly: “Will you… be here tomorrow?”
Wei Langxing handed him an ice cream cone: “I’m always here.”
The next day, Tang Yu’an’s first words upon seeing him were: “Who are you?”
Wei Langxing: “I’m your boyfriend. Remember? I’m a terrible cook.”
Since Tang Yu’an’s memory only lasted a day, they repeated this conversation every day.
Sometimes, Tang Yu’an would avoid him like a rabbit fleeing a wolf, sometimes he would waver, swayed by his words.
And sometimes, he would grab his hand, saying, “Since you’re my boyfriend, I command you to ride the Ferris wheel with me.”
They kissed under the stars, a strange mix of fire and ice.
At the end of each day, Tang Yu’an would ask: “Will you be here tomorrow?”
Wei Langxing’s answer was always the same.
They lost track of time, playing this game of familiar strangers.
Until one day, sitting on a swing set, looking at the night sky, Tang Yu’an suddenly said: “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” Wei Langxing stood up. “Where do you want to go? Want some late-night snacks?”
Tang Yu’an shook his head, smiling faintly: “No, I mean… let’s leave this place.”
Wei Langxing froze: “You…”
Tang Yu’an pursed his lips: “I might seem carefree, but I know… this place isn’t real.”
Wei Langxing: “Do you remember the real world?”
“No.”
“Then… are you afraid of going back?”
“Of course I am,” Tang Yu’an jumped off the swing, his bare feet on the grass. “But didn’t you say you’d be with me?”
As he had said a thousand times before, Wei Langxing reassured him: “I’m always here.”
The world began to unravel, their home dissolving into blurry colors, the sky falling.
Tang Yu’an’s consciousness returned, the sounds of the real world flooding his senses.
Only a few minutes had passed.
“Where’s the therapist…?”
“…Don’t worry, he’s fine, just tired…”
“…Glad he’s back…”
He opened his eyes, seeing Wei Langxing beside him, their hands clasped together.
Seeing his confusion, Wei Langxing’s heart sank.
He… didn’t remember.
But it’s okay, he thought. I have a lifetime to create new memories.
He released Tang Yu’an’s hand, not wanting to seem too eager.
But Tang Yu’an reached out, taking his hand again.
His eyes were warm and bright.
His lips, like delicate petals, formed the words:
“Don’t go, you still owe me a dance.”
This is making me sob.
Thanks for translating this.