After hearing everything, Shen Yi covered her forehead. No wonder Song Sijun had said that in her past life, Shen Wenta had gone mad in Hejing and killed many students.
When she had first heard about it, the only thought that had crossed her mind was: Shen Wenta must be out of his mind.
From childhood to adulthood, nothing about her third brother had ever been particularly normal.
He was obsessive, gloomy, reckless in his actions, and impossible to read emotionally. The slightest misstep could unleash a terrifying storm.
She had always thought that this was simply the cruelty of his nature. Never had she imagined that the source of all those storms might have something to do with her.
If the System were still around, it would probably have remarked coldly: As expected, only a villain can tame another villain.
At that thought, Shen Yi subconsciously called out in her mind, “System.”
As expected, there was only silence. No response came.
The System had vanished completely.
Along with all the chains of fate it had brought with it, it had disappeared at some untraceable point in time.
“So,” Shen Yi calmly pulled back her slightly wistful thoughts, fixed her eyes on Shen Wenta, and asked, “You have memories?”
Shen Wenta looked at her.
Then he slowly nodded.
He was certain that they were memories from his past life.
They were far too vivid. Even after waking from the dreams, he still couldn’t stop himself from trembling.
Before her, Shen Wenta had never considered helping anyone. He had seen far too many unfortunate people, and whenever he encountered them, he had always been too indifferent even to lift his eyelids.
But why did it have to be her?
Why couldn’t it have been someone else?
When Shen Yi saw him nod, surprise flashed across her face, along with a faint sense of wonder. “Brother, you helped me even in your past life.”
It was difficult for her to describe the shock she had felt upon seeing him that day in her past life.
The astonishment of realizing that he was about to do something earth-shattering, combined with the icy calm with which he had raised the gun, had left such a deep impression on her that even now, remembering it made her scalp prickle.
Across both lifetimes, the few moments that had truly shocked Shen Yi had all been courtesy of her third brother, that outlaw beyond the law.
“Of course I would help you.” Shen Wenta’s brows drew together slightly. Her words had clearly made him uncomfortable. “Why would you question that?”
Shen Yi answered honestly.
“Because in the dream, we didn’t actually have much contact with each other. You didn’t even remember me.”
Shen Wenta didn’t seem like the kind of person who would do something so irrational for someone he couldn’t even remember.
“Because you were different from everyone I knew. You were always different…”
Sitting in the chair, Shen Wenta leaned slightly forward, shifting from his previous relaxed posture against the backrest into a hunched position. He stared straight into her eyes and told Shen Yi, word by word:
“When you came to me back then, every inch of you was soaked in sorrow and loneliness, as though they were about to burst out of you.”
After saying this, he leaned heavily back against the chair and recalled the feelings he had experienced in the dream. That indescribable restlessness still weighed heavily on him.
“I was practically drowning in your awful emotions.”
Shen Wenta couldn’t understand it.
Why did seeing her in pain cause his own mood to sink along with hers?
He tilted his head back and analyzed his feelings from that time with an expressionless face. “If you were sad, I would get hurt too.”
“I was only trying to protect myself from being hurt.”
Shen Yi: “…”
It was the first time she had ever heard such a reason, and she couldn’t help being stunned by his twisted way of thinking.
Pressing his lips together, Shen Wenta continued piecing together the scattered, indistinct fragments of his dream memories, intending to explain everything to her at once.
“In the dream, you never wanted to board the ship. Everyone was changing ships to leave at the time, so you should have gotten off with them instead of coming back.”
It was true that he had been genuinely delighted to see her.
But his despair had been just as real.
The two emotions had intertwined, leaving him more helpless than he had ever felt before.
“I really didn’t want to board the ship, and I didn’t want to turn back either. Do I look like someone who enjoys courting death?” Shen Yi retorted. “But you were on that ship. Other than going back, what else could I do?”
The only reason Shen Yi had come was because he was on that wretched ship. No matter how unwilling she had been, she had still gone.
Fate had never shown mercy to anyone. Shen Yi, least of all, was the kind of person who wanted to rise up and fight against it. Once she was in its grasp, she could only go with the flow. Everyone was a piece on the chessboard. The System had been powerless to escape its own circumstances, and neither had she.
Fortunately, everything was over now.
She could do so many things with her future.
She no longer had to be bound by fate or worry about some supposedly unavoidable plot. She no longer had to fear waking up one day in a strange time and place, helplessly facing the next round of a scripted life.
As Shen Yi thought about this, she looked over at Shen Wenta’s expression.
He was clearly somewhat stunned. The gloom that usually clung to him had been washed away, leaving behind a rare look of bewilderment and helpless confusion on his face.
Shen Wenta seemed to have lost himself in some kind of fantasy because of her words. He looked a little dazed.
Unable to resist, Shen Yi reached out and pressed down on his hair.
The black curls bounced faintly beneath her fingertips. They sprang back up after being pushed down, with stray strands falling across his brows and eyes, making him suddenly look a little less than intelligent.
Shen Wenta came back to himself. He instinctively covered his eyes where she had ruffled his hair and frowned as he continued, “You were very lonely in the dream. You went through something terrible in your past life. I just didn’t know it back then.”
“I remember that, a long time ago, you seemed to be very afraid of the sound of gunfire.”
“I understand now. It was because your death had something to do with a gun.”
Shen Wenta’s throat moved slightly. He hesitated for several seconds before continuing, his voice gentler than before.
“Do you… still want to die now?”
The tentative softness in his voice immediately told Shen Yi what he was thinking.
He was afraid that her thoughts were still lingering at the edge of some unseen abyss.
Could it be that, in his mind, she still had some tendency toward despair and death?
“No,” Shen Yi said, her tone firm. “I never wanted to die.”
After discussing her past life, Shen Wenta’s expression had remained gloomy the entire time. Even after hearing her answer, his face did not completely relax.
“So you were forced to die.”
Separated from her by a stretch of time and space invisible to everyone else, Shen Wenta could only touch the fragmented edges of those memories in his dreams.
It was only today that he had finally understood why certain people could trigger that timid, insecure side of her.
None of it had been her fault.
It had never been her fault.
Seeing the increasingly dark expression on his face, Shen Yi reached out and pressed down on his hair again, interrupting his thoughts.
“It’s all right now.” Wanting to ease his expression, she said, “Everything is over. Don’t make that face, like I’m about to jump into the sea and you’re powerless to stop me.”
The expression on his face looked even darker and more desperate than she had been at her own lowest point.
The pressure of her hand made Shen Wenta’s head tilt to one side, and the corners of his mouth tightened slightly.
Over?
Not at all.
The past wasn’t the same as an ending.
Only death was.
It was just that those people were dead now too, and there was no point in settling old scores.
The living could not contend with the dead. No matter how unwilling he was, there was nothing he could do.
“What are you thinking about?” Shen Yi tilted her head to look at him. When he remained silent for a long while, she waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Why do you look so scary? You look like you’re plotting something.”
Only then did Shen Wenta realize that his expression had probably been rather frightening just now.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, suppressing the tangled, turbulent thoughts in his mind. Then he tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible. “Nothing.”
“You’re right. It’s all over.” Shen Wenta’s voice was low and slow. “You’ll never see these people again.”
“Yeah.” Shen Yi let out a breath of relief.
It was wonderful that he had been able to let it go.
After all, she was the one involved, yet she didn’t seem nearly as genuinely fixated on it as he was.
…
The enormous cruise ship slowly pulled into port.
Everyone hurried out of the cabins. The group made their way through the long passageway, then ran down the gangplank step by step.
Once they reached solid ground, the crowd—looking as though they had just escaped a disaster—embraced one another and burst into tears.
What had happened aboard the ship had been a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions for everyone.
The long, nerve-racking days and nights spent on deck all turned into tears and trembling embraces the moment their feet touched land.
Shen Wenta finally relaxed as well after they docked.
But his hand remained tightly clasped around Shen Yi’s wrist. He hadn’t let go once.
Shen Zhizhao, Shen Ruxu, and Shen Xun hadn’t slept properly in days either.
They spotted the two of them at a glance.
Only after confirming that they were both safe and sound did their anxious hearts finally settle.
Shen Xun was the first to rush over and grab Shen Yi by the wrist.
He looked her up and down before saying, with obvious relief, “You’re still alive.”
As usual, he displayed his astonishing lack of tact with a remark that left everyone speechless.
Shen Yi couldn’t help reaching out and smacking his hand away.
Shen Ruxu and Shen Zhizhao examined the two of them from either side, their eyes sweeping carefully over Shen Yi from head to toe.
All three brothers wanted to ask Shen Yi something at almost exactly the same time.
But the questions lodged in their throats, held back by some remnant of old habit.
After all, because of the rules of this world, there were many things concerning Shen Yi that they simply could not ask about directly.
“I’m fine now.”
To prove that she truly was safe and sound—with all her limbs intact—Shen Yi walked forward a few steps, then spun around once.
The midday sun fell across her hair, turning the loose strands a faint golden brown. Smiling, she told them, “It’s all over.”
For her, it had felt like countless days and nights, as though she had crossed an entire endless river.
Now, at last, she could breathe freely again.
“It’s over?” Shen Zhizhao was the first to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder. After examining her carefully once more, he asked softly, “Really?”
“Mm.”
“Then where did you go this time?” he asked bluntly. “You slept for a very long time this time. I’m guessing it was a particularly long journey?”
Dahei had really guessed it correctly.
Shen Yi kept them in suspense. “Do you want to know? I can tell you all about it when we get home.”
Shen Ruxu immediately sidled up to her conspiratorially. “Then can Xiao Yi tell me too?”
“Of course.”
After saying that, Shen Yi couldn’t resist pinching this deceptively wicked Shen Ruxu. Even now, she still remembered how he had dragged her all over the world during his rebellious teenage years in her previous life.
Shen Ruxu covered his face after being pinched. “That hurts.”
After complaining, he noticed that Shen Xun was trying to take advantage of the moment to hug Shen Yi. He hurriedly grabbed his younger brother by the back of his collar.
“You were actually trying to use this opportunity to hug your little sister? Absolutely not.”
His fingers tightened around Shen Xun’s collar and pulled him back.
Shen Xun said, “Why not? I’m her older brother.”
Shen Ruxu was speechless. “You’re all grown up now! If you want a hug, come to Second Brother. I’ll give you one. You’re not allowed to take advantage of the moment and hug your sister.”
“Go away. That’s disgusting.”
“…”
The two of them began bickering and tussling.
Shen Zhizhao, the calmest older brother in the group, stood where he was and watched her for two seconds. Then he suddenly spoke in a light, airy voice.
“Xiao Yi, I had a dream on the way here.”
“Would you like to hear it?”
Another dream?
Shen Yi was truly beginning to dread that word. She blinked in surprise, then asked cautiously, “What was it about?”
He drew out the words, deliberately keeping her in suspense. “It was about—”
The corners of Shen Zhizhao’s lips lifted. Rarely, he made a half-joking remark.
“It was about how, when I was little, I had an older sister who often came to visit me, encourage me, and help poor, helpless me defeat the evil Shen Ruxu.”
Shen Yi: “…”
Shen Wenta couldn’t listen any longer. He pulled Shen Yi away, his words filled with barely restrained irritation. “Why do you have stories with Shen Ruxu and Shen Zhizhao too?”
“I have one too,” Shen Xun tried to point out, unwilling to be left out.
“She was always accompanying me on missions.”
The moment he said that, everyone began talking at once.
Shen Zhizhao brought up how she had held him in her arms and told him stories when he was little. Shen Ruxu talked about all the places he had dragged her to. Shen Xun mentioned how she had accompanied him through all kinds of strange missions.
Shen Wenta stood to the side with a dark expression, occasionally adding, “She played the violin for me too, though it wasn’t very pleasant to listen to.”
Shen Yi couldn’t help laughing as she walked beside them.
The saltiness of the sea and the lightness of being reborn surged together through every inch of her body.
The wind lifted the hem of her clothes, and her ears filled with the sounds around her.
The world, the System, and fate—
all the things Shen Yi had once believed would imprison her for the rest of her life shattered together in this moment.
The harbor was noisy with voices, and seagulls skimmed over the tops of the masts.
Sunlight, sea breeze, and the family before her.
Together, they were as noisy as ever.
But she was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with everything here.
