#ShiDengHasANewFuture#
#ShiGe’sGiftOfHopeToHisPastSelf#
#TheSunflowersNeverGiven#
Shortly after this new chapter was posted, the forum’s front pages were filled with these kinds of threads. Readers unfamiliar with the details might mistake them for joyful celebrations at first glance. Clicking in, they’d find oceans of tears, crying everywhere.
[Damn it, waaahhhh even though I knew Shi-ge might have an accident, when the moment truly arrived I still cried myself to pieces my gentle Shi-ge—]
[Shi-ge chose not to retrograde. Shi baby chose to retrograde. Shi baby rushed toward light again and again. Shi-ge rushed toward him again and again wuuuu]
[Crying until I can’t breathe. What new future… Shi-ge was already the best future. My gentle Shi-ge just vanished forever like that.]
[Tupi (Bald Brush), your heart is so cruel. These knives delivered clean and decisive, every cut drawing blood.]
[With Shi-ge gone, my sense of security is gone too. Wuuu I feel like with Shi-ge dead, Shi baby’s death isn’t far either QAQ]
[Shi-ge said, go home. But he’s not at home anymore.]
[Before vanishing, Shi-ge so patiently and gently combed Shi baby’s hair. When Shi baby pillowed on his lap, I really wished time would freeze right there.]
***
Gong Du’s consciousness space.
The little light orb had somehow become addicted to following the manga. After this chapter posted, it cried itself into seclusion. Now it had gone a full hour without speaking to the little black sphere.
Gong Du felt this supplementary examiner’s life experience was truly shallow.
Clearly knowing his script, yet crying this miserably.
This manga world—why the protagonist died every time—he’d gradually found the reason. Successfully passing this Yuan Marrow incident proved his speculation correct.
The manga world was, after all, a secondary world. Heavenly Dao incomplete. Yet the protagonist team was endowed with great fortune. After death, fortune returned to the world, able to complete Heavenly Dao.
Afterward, with Heavenly Dao complete, this world’s timeline could proceed forward.
But if the entire protagonist team died, the story line collapsed. The world would still fall into endless despair thereafter.
This seemed like a dead end.
To complete Heavenly Dao required sacrificing the protagonist team. But sacrificing them wouldn’t make the world better.
This was the downside of secondary worlds—too thin, too fragile. Couldn’t withstand world consciousness interfering directly. Could only have story characters complete the plot.
Gong Du made a deal with Tupi. He first used fortune he’d collected in the previous world, splitting a portion onto Shi-ge before he vanished.
Then when Shi-ge disappeared, the external fortune he carried automatically completed this world’s Heavenly Dao, replacing one death quota from the three-person protagonist team.
Because it replaced one, the world line could proceed normally after the Yuan Marrow incident.
However, it wouldn’t last long.
Looking now, his initial decision to open the two alternate accounts of Shi-ge and Xiao Deng was incomparably correct. Adding himself made exactly three quotas. All accounted for.
Of course, having helped so much, Tupi promised the final payment would be very generous.
The little light orb wiped tears. “You have no heart.”
Gong Du was puzzled. “Who would pass up fortune value? I’m following proper bilateral voluntary procedures. Supplementary examiner, you mustn’t let emotions cloud judgment.”
The little light orb held back. “How could… When leaving, I’m taking ten manga volumes as collectibles.”
This was its final stubbornness QAQ.
***
Three days had passed since Shi-ge vanished.
Yellow Springs still hadn’t disappeared. But Shi Deng floated atop it, unconscious. Beneath him appeared twelve transparent chains, swaying with the wind—somewhat tranquil.
Yet like guardians, protecting Shi Deng.
“Yuan spoke truly. The Leader retrograded time more than once.” Uncle Fu brought Xiao Deng to Shenhu City, gazing at those chains with a sigh. “I’ve followed the Leader so many times, yet can’t guess his current condition.”
Chi Yu: “If we can wake him, any risk is worth it.”
Yuan was eliminated. Tiangu now needed to quell residual contamination qi and appease ordinary civilians, letting cities impacted by exotic beasts gradually restore normal operations.
After reporting Shi Deng’s situation, Tiangu’s upper echelon fell into unprecedented silence. Combined with Chi Yu’s speculation and explanation, they vaguely learned—originally, there really was someone who’d repeatedly reversed time, paying enormous costs, all for an elusive hope.
He said solemnly, “This isn’t just mine and the elite team’s intent—it’s everyone in Tiangu’s intent.”
Chi Yu and the elite team ranked as Tiangu’s top combat power. Now all were ordered by leadership to stay here, waiting for Shi Deng to wake.
Based on currently understood circumstances, Uncle Fu should be someone who retrograded together with Shi Deng. Perhaps he knew how to wake him.
Uncle Fu looked down. “Xiao Deng, do you know how to wake the Leader?”
Yuan Ting’s three only just learned Shi-ge was future Shi Deng. Originally thought they were just brothers… Now it seemed not so simple.
Xiao Deng seemed to know what they were thinking. Huffed. “He’s lost.”
Chi Yu: “Lost?”
The youth atop Yellow Springs looked asleep—features peaceful and serene, seemingly dreaming. Xiao Deng glanced once then withdrew his gaze.
His performance now truly didn’t resemble a small child. Anyone could see his eye circles were severely reddened. Clearly heartbroken, yet affecting a cold, gloomy, nonchalant appearance, trying to hide his emotions.
Xiao Deng pressed his lips. “I felt it when Shi-ge vanished.”
“Those chains beneath Shi Deng—rather than chains, they’re better called timelines. His consciousness is now lost within these fractured timelines.”
Chi Yu: “Then how do we bring him back?”
“Don’t know,” Xiao Deng said. “Can only enter to find him. But it’s very dangerous. One careless move—those searching will also become lost inside.”
Enter these timelines, experience what Shi Deng experienced, then find him.
Search for an elusive consciousness across twelve cycles.
Sounded like pure fantasy.
Yuan Ting: “…I’ll go find him.”
These past days he hadn’t slept, keeping vigil by Yellow Springs constantly. Not merely because Shi Deng was his brother, but because of what Yuan once said—
He’d nearly killed Shi Deng.
Uncle Fu hesitated, saying to Xiao Deng, “The Leader didn’t want them to know…”
Those deeply buried, dark pasts.
Without Shi-ge and Shi Deng nearby, Xiao Deng seemed very mature. He patted Uncle Fu’s hand back. “They’re people Shi Deng acknowledges. Little Uncle Fu, it’s fine.”
The consciousnesses of Yuan Ting’s four ultimately entered those abandoned timelines.
Same as what Shi Deng had shown them before. Except this time, they saw the unhidden version—
A youth Shi Deng who crawled through darkness, gloomy and numb.
He infiltrated Tiangu under orders, becoming an elite team member. Yet day by day associating with them, he immersed himself in pure friendship and elder care, painfully struggling between light and darkness.
They saw Shi Deng tortured countless times by the previous leader. Face still obediently docile, but turning away, eyes incomparably dark—devising every means to leak intelligence to Tiangu.
Many times, the elite team and Yuan Guang silently clashed. Shi Deng wracked his brains maneuvering between both sides—neither allowing Tiangu to discover his identity, nor letting Yuan Guang detect anything amiss.
Every second lived on knife’s edge. Utterly exhausted.
Many times the youth wanted to charge directly into danger, dying then and there to end it all. Yet was rescued again and again.
They watched him choose to retrograde time.
Watched his body worsen with each cycle, hair turning twilight white.
Once, twice… twelve times.
Misunderstood, injured to tatters by once-close friends. Willingly becoming their whetstone, only wanting them stronger before Yuan Marrow extinguished.
He journeyed backward through time alone. From initial dark cruelty to final peaceful warmth. Each retrograde like a metamorphosis, tempering the youth into restrained gentleness.
And from beginning to end, besides Uncle Fu, only two blurry shadows accompanied him.
Future and past, wandering through spacetime.
…
Only then did they understand what Shi-ge meant to Shi Deng.
After watching the second retrograde, Yuan Ting’s three fell abnormally silent. Yuan’s harsh words became fact. Even if that was reset past, couldn’t change they’d once harmed Shi Deng.
But they had no time for despondency. Spent three months searching every corner of these twelve timelines, yet still didn’t find where Shi Deng’s lost consciousness was.
Beautiful, disappointed, desperate… those thick or thin memories—none contained familiar ability fluctuations.
Even with Cen Le’s ability supporting, the longer time passed, Shi Deng’s vital signs kept weakening.
Initially Xiao Deng maintained composure. But as search after search yielded nothing, he visibly panicked, still forcing calm so others wouldn’t notice.
He clutched Uncle Fu’s sleeve tightly.
When Yuan Ting’s group returned from Yellow Springs again, Xiao Deng hurried forward. Looking up, small face taut, deep blue eyes vaguely glimpsing traces of Shi Deng’s appearance.
“…”
As if unable to bear watching him disappointed again, Zhi Ze turned his face away.
Cen Le crouched down, shaking her head at him. Consoling, “We’ll definitely find him.”
The child froze.
Without warning, those eyes brimmed with moisture.
Daily, he acted like a little adult.
Mature as if when adults weren’t home, he could manage the household.
But this premise assumed the child knew adults would definitely return. So however well or poorly he did, he wasn’t afraid—someone would always catch him.
But today he suddenly realized—maybe none of his household adults would return.
This was Xiao Deng’s first time crying since arriving three months ago. Emotions accumulated to breaking point—that sentence became the final snowflake crushing him.
Xiao Deng cried soundlessly too. Just opened eyes, shedding tears, jaw clenched tight.
This was a habit from living in Yuan Guang. Crying aloud, being discovered—the outcome was death.
Everyone around lost composure. Uncle Fu couldn’t bear this most of all. Heartbroken beyond measure.
Everyone clumsily tried comforting. Finally Chi Yu couldn’t watch anymore. Carrying Xiao Deng onto Yellow Springs, he placed him beside the unconscious Shi Deng.
Chi Yu: “If you’re crying, cry facing him. If he has any attachment left, he’ll wake up.”
Xiao Deng cried while saying, “He won’t. He always bullies me. He’s shameless, a villain…”
Even the most mature child becomes unreasonable when crying. Xiao Deng had probably held back too long. Hiccupping and sobbing, tears like they cost nothing, all smeared onto Shi Deng.
Judging from their habitual bickering relationship, this arguably contained vengeful elements.
The interwoven chains below were like a bed, also like a net, gathering the youth at center. Seeming protective, also restraining.
He’d slept too long. Complexion pale. His low temperature, suddenly touched by warm tears, produced an almost scalding sensation.
Xiao Deng’s voice gradually weakened as exhaustion overtook him. After all, he was still just a child, and crying had worn him out completely. Chi Yu’s heart sank, a cold sense of helplessness washing over him. He reached to carry the boy down, resignation settling in his chest—perhaps they should simply give up. But just as he was about to surrender, a low, hoarse, gentle voice drifted up from below: “…Xiao Deng, don’t cry.”
Chi Yu’s eyes snapped open in disbelief.
Xiao Deng froze completely.
Somehow, the youth had truly awakened. His heterochromatic eyes stared upward, though their depths were gray and lightless. He extended a weak hand, his palm cupping Xiao Deng’s tear-stained face as he wiped away the mess of tears and snot. A faint smile seemed to touch his lips, and his voice emerged so quietly it nearly dissolved into the wind: “…Look how ugly you are.”
Xiao Deng locked his gaze on those eyes, refusing to blink, terrified he’d imagined it all. Once he’d confirmed Shi Deng was truly awake, he finally allowed himself to cry loudly and make noise without restraint. After the tears subsided, he managed to squeeze out a small, trembling complaint: “Why did it take you so long to wake up? I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
All of Xiao Deng’s frightened confusion finally found solid ground. He dove into the youth’s narrow embrace—far from broad but infinitely reassuring. Mortified by his own tears, he simply buried his face and hid. He sobbed so hard he nearly choked, gasping for breath.
For six or seven-year-old Xiao Deng, Shi Deng was the one who had rescued him from Yuan Guang’s darkness. He understood he would endure tremendous suffering before he could grow as powerful as Shi Deng. Unlike the mysterious Shi-ge, Xiao Deng had no secrets—Shi Deng knew everything about him, and he was painfully weak by comparison. Every single day, he worried that Shi Deng would send him back to the past, even though he knew that day might inevitably come.
Through his tears, Xiao Deng whispered, “Shi Deng, you’re my future too.”
The child’s words carried a mixture of dependence and reverence that struck Shi Deng as achingly familiar. He’d looked at Shi-ge with that exact same desperate need. The recognition stunned him momentarily, but he forced his exhausted hand to reach up and stroke Xiao Deng’s hair with effort.
A memory surfaced—times when he’d acted spoiled around Shi-ge and said similar things. Shi-ge had never answered, only gazed at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher back then. At the time, he hadn’t understood what thoughts ran through Shi-ge’s mind, but now the meaning crystallized with painful clarity.
*I’m sorry. I didn’t become the person you deserved.*
Shi Deng’s voice softened. “I’m sorry for making you worry. I just had a long dream and overslept.”
Xiao Deng sniffled. “But you’re awake now.”
Shi Deng’s lips curved slightly. “Yes. The dream is over.”
***
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Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152