"A blank slate?"
"Nothing will remain."
"This microcosm is built upon your consciousness. Which means... everything you care about will be erased."
The woman spoke softly, her gaze lowered to the chessboard before her. Hearing that, Zane raised an eyebrow.
"A world of endless white, clean and clear... how refreshing."
He chuckled lightly, showing no sign of concern at her words. The woman placed another piece on the board and looked up at him.
"You're rather optimistic."
"Optimistic? I'd call it confidence."
Zane placed his piece calmly. The woman shook her head faintly and replied,
"Blind confidence isn't a virtue."
Zane's expression grew more focused. He noticed her moves had become much more elusive—the flow of the match now complex and uncertain.
Indeed, just as she said, blind confidence was never a good thing.
Holding a black stone between his slender fingers, Zane let it hover briefly above the board before placing it down.
As the piece clicked into place, he spoke evenly.
"Recklessness and cowardice are both faults, while courage lies somewhere in between."
"But if one must err, better to lean toward boldness than timidity. Extravagance stands closer to generosity than stinginess, and recklessness is closer to true courage than fear ever is."
"So, yes—singing boldly in self-confidence is far better than cowering in hesitation. After all, what else can one do besides believe in oneself? Should I instead prepare to accept losing everything?"
"I can't accept that."
Zane shook his head. The patterns on the board blurred, a thin veil of mist seeming to roll over it.
"You," the woman said flatly, eyes still fixed on the board, "always have a way with twisted logic."
Zane laughed.
"Twisted or not, you needn't worry. Confidence isn't arrogance, and while confidence is a mindset, caution isn't my enemy."
"I know."
The woman nodded slightly. Her earlier remark had been more out of habit than reprimand—she never truly thought him arrogant.
"Tsk, your chess is improving fast. Once everything's over, maybe we can play again."
Zane let out a soft sigh. Playing against Qingyi had always been one-sided, the experience more frustrating than fun. But if he put aside the losses, even that had its own kind of enjoyment.
"I'm afraid not."
"I'm leaving."
Zane's words reached her ears. The woman shook her head, her tone quiet.
"Leaving?"
He blinked, caught off guard. He had thought she'd remain in this consciousness micro-world for quite some time. The farewell came abruptly.
But only for a moment. Zane quickly accepted it, smiling faintly.
"Then perhaps this is our last meeting?"
"You're still trying to test me, even now?"
The woman sighed softly, repeating his words inwardly. She gave him a knowing glance but didn't answer.
"How could that be testing…"
Zane smiled, refusing to admit it. As they spoke, their game continued. The opening had passed—they were deep in battle now.
"Alright then. I'll take this seriously."
Straightening her posture, the woman's demeanor shifted—serene calm replaced by spirited focus. For once, she seemed determined to win.
Zane, too, straightened in response.
"The final game should have a proper winner."
As his voice fell, the match intensified. Yet, as time passed, Zane's face grew heavier with concentration.
Toward the end, each time he placed a black stone took ten times longer than her moves.
He was clearly losing ground.
When her final white piece severed the connection between his dragon formations, turning half his black stones into dead pieces, Zane conceded with a wry smile.
After so many games against her, it was the first time he'd been defeated—completely overwhelmed, even.
Seeing the surprise on his face, the woman covered her mouth and laughed softly.
"What's the matter? Shocked?"
"Heh, if I recall correctly, out of all our games, I haven't lost a single one until now."
"Winning once hardly makes that true."
"Please, I was holding back before."
Her gentle smile carried a teasing air, lightening the moment between them—but it didn't change the fact that she had to leave.
"Alright. It's time for me to go."
"When I leave, this consciousness micro-world will collapse."
"Use the remaining time to feel it—fully."
Rising gracefully, she offered Zane a few final words. Her earlier goals here, her purpose in creating this place, had not yet been fulfilled.
Zane nodded quietly. He didn't ask why she had to leave, nor whether they would meet again.
After all, their connection wasn't deep.
They had merely walked the same path for a brief time, bound by circumstance.
"Oh, one more thing," she said before turning away. "If you truly wish to ensure the plan's success, I suggest repeating that battle with the duplicate."
"You know what I mean."
Zane inclined his head. He hadn't hidden anything about the replica, and they had already discussed parts of it before this final match.
"...I understand."
He nodded again after a moment's thought. His plan, now clearer in his mind, had become more complete—waiting only for the next step.
The woman acknowledged his response with a faint nod, then turned and began walking toward the edge of the endless white world.
Her white gown shimmered faintly as she moved, the fabric subtly changing with every step.
Watching her retreating figure, Zane narrowed his eyes slightly.
That attire... feels strangely familiar...
Her silhouette began to blur. Then, just as she was about to vanish entirely, she stopped—as if remembering something.
Zane arched an eyebrow. The woman didn't speak. Instead, she turned her face slightly, meeting his gaze.
Their eyes locked.
A soft smile curved her lips.
Then she turned away, her dark hair fluttering with her movement before dissolving into nothingness.
The last thing to fade—caught in the glow of pure white—was the tip of her black hair.
Only when her figure completely disappeared did Zane return to himself. The chessboard before him had already vanished.
He looked around at the microcosm, now slowly being devoured by the void, estimating how much time remained.
Unconsciously, his mind drifted back to the woman's parting smile—the faint, knowing curve of her lips before she disappeared.