Check out my new translation!
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"Little Nine is dead? Didn't she just move away?" Chang the Ninth asked in disbelief.
Back then, when Little Nine slipped into the river and drowned, perhaps because her body was never found, her family believed she had gone missing and moved away to search for her. Or perhaps, recognizing that the book she clutched was written by Chang the Ninth, they bore some resentment or pity and chose not to tell him the truth before leaving. Or maybe, they simply wished to leave that place of grief behind.
But in the young eyes of Chang the Ninth, it had only one meaning—her family didn't like him, didn't want Little Nine to be with him, so they left Qingce Village without a word.
Even until now, that was what he had always believed.
He had used his real name as his pen name, hoping that one day, if he became famous, Little Nine's family would see it.
And in fact, his Legend of the Shattered Halberd had become a great success in both Liyue and Inazuma, so much so that Yae Publishing House pushed him to plan a new work, Flowers for Princess Fischl. Famous, without a doubt… but whether Little Nine's family, seeing the name "Chang the Ninth," would be reminded of painful memories—he did not know.
Since it was already spoken, Victor Wang saw no point in hiding it anymore. He repeated, "Little Nine died many years ago. She's been lingering at Wuwang Hill. As for moving away, we don't know what happened."
Timmy's case was similar, though not identical.
Timmy's dearest kin had disappeared—such a truth could never be hidden forever.
But Little Nine was only Chang the Ninth's neighbor. To trick him was far easier.
If not for his request to the Boundary that led Hu Tao to encounter Little Nine by chance, then just as in the game, she would have asked Lumine to find her lost book.
After that, one day when Chang the Ninth came to Wuwang Hill seeking inspiration, Little Nine would have returned the book she had clung to even in death… and then, she herself would never appear again.
And Chang the Ninth would have remained in the dark.
Whether to tell him the truth or not—both choices had their reasons. It was nothing less than a trolley problem.
Fortunately, the one to choose was Hu Tao. And in such matters, she was the professional. Best to follow her lead.
"You're lying to me!"
Chang the Ninth's face turned ashen. It was the first time Victor Wang had seen someone's complexion drain of color so quickly after hearing such devastating news.
"How did you even learn about me and Little Nine? So cruel! To say she's dead…
Isn't it money you're after? I have a whole room full of rare books—first editions, out-of-print volumes… take them all and then get as far away from me as you can!"
Stumbling backward, Chang the Ninth waved his right hand in front of him frantically, as if warding them off, until he reached the raised floor and railing of his house, leaving him no room to retreat.
Leaning back against the railing, he slid slowly down until he was slumped on the ground. Both hands clutched his head in anguish, burying his face in his knees like a child. His dark-blue robe, dampened by his tears, grew darker, nearly black.
Only when his trembling calmed did Hu Tao finally speak. "Little Nine is waiting for you at Wuwang Hill."
Chang the Ninth shuddered, raised his robe sleeve to wipe his nose and tears, and looked up with reddened eyes. "You mean?"
"You know the story of The Book of Five Springs, right? She died, but would not leave. That's why we came for you."
"She… she…"
"She drowned in the river long ago, but when she woke, she forgot what happened. The only thing she remembered was losing the book you gave her, so she asked us to find it."
"That book… that book! But I don't know… I don't even know where she went! I can't find it…"
"You don't need to. You are that book. You are Little Nine's attachment. Seeing you means she's found it."
Chang the Ninth buried his head again. "Then doesn't that mean if I don't see her, she'll never truly die?!"
"Heh. Don't delude yourself. The body is yang, the soul is yin. Without one, the other cannot last forever. Even in Wuwang Hill, eventually she'll lose her mind, becoming a vengeful spirit—a soul destined to fall beneath my spear."
"You're killing her!"
"She's not human anymore."
"If you dare harm Nine, I'll… I'll…" Chang the Ninth panted like an old dog, clawed a stone from the ground, hefted it in his hand, and pointed it at Hu Tao. "Don't force me!"
"True feelings are rare, and I've given you and her more leeway than most. But just because the tiger hasn't shown its fangs, do you really think the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor lives on rice alone?"
Hu Tao snapped her small hand. "Victor, get him! Knock him out and drag him to Wuwang Hill."
"Huh? But I'm not part of Wangsheng Parlor."
"You're my 'number one client,' which makes you a client of the Wangsheng Parlor. And a client of Wangsheng… is part of Wangsheng."
"You make a very good point."
Watching the two calmly discuss knocking him out, Chang the Ninth gritted his teeth and attacked first, stone raised high. "Don't you dare! Hurt Nine and I'll—!"
Bang!
"Argh! I-I'm not afraid of you! Put me down—!"
The stone flew, and then he too was lifted into the air, wrapped in a gust of wind.
"Chang the Ninth, do you even know what Little Nine looks like now?"
"Don't try to trick me. Even if I want to see her, I won't go! I won't let her vanish!"
"I mean—her appearance may surprise you. She's still a little girl, never to grow up.
"Time has carved a great chasm between you. While you've lived freely, she has only wandered in solitude. Can you bear to let her go on like this?"
Victor Wang tried one last persuasion.
"Don't let her suffer anymore. Let her be free."
"I… I…" Chang the Ninth choked, embarrassed that, floating in the air, he couldn't even hide his tears from these two juniors.
"Don't force me to knock you out. Dragging around a grown man would draw too much attention. Be cooperative, and you can at least say farewell."
"Put me down… I'll go… I'll go…"
"Hmph. About time. Had to waste both kind and harsh words on you. Let's move."
Hu Tao led the way back toward Wuwang Hill. But with Chang the Ninth as an ordinary man slowing them down—even with Victor Wang lending him wind to move—it was far slower than before.
"No need to hurry. I've accounted for this. There's plenty of time."
When they reached halfway up Wuwang Hill, Hu Tao handed Victor Wang a small talisman.
"Go ahead to the spot where we last saw Little Nine. If she's there, give her this talisman and lead her back here. If she's not, burn the talisman, call her name, and then stay where you are."
Panting heavily, Chang the Ninth asked weakly, "What are you planning?"
"Think of The Book of Five Springs. If you meet her directly, she'll likely dissipate immediately with her attachment. This talisman can stabilize her spirit briefly, giving you both time to say goodbye."
"…" Chang the Ninth closed his eyes with a sigh. Even seeing her one last time was so difficult.
"Then I'll go ahead."
Unrestrained, Victor Wang soon left them behind, speeding toward the ruined village.
Lanternlight glowed orange in the thick mist. Whether tended by someone or not, the lanterns never seemed to burn out.
He searched the village, then finally approached the most intact house—only half a wall remained unsearched. Last time, Little Nine had hidden there… Could it be?
"Little Nine?!" She was there.
"You came again."
"You remember me?"
"Mm. You and Hu Tao helped me look for my book last time. You didn't find it, but you tried so hard. Thank you."
"No—we did find it."
"Really…?"
"Really. Take this, and I'll bring you to it."
"Okay."
She accepted the talisman without suspicion and followed Victor Wang. Two minutes later, they met Hu Tao and Chang the Ninth.
"Big Nine?! How did you… suddenly grow up so much? You even have a beard!"
"Little Nine… it really is you!"
With a strength he never knew he had, Chang the Ninth dashed toward her.
"Big Nine, why are you crying…" Little Nine wiped his tears as he knelt to meet her eyes.
"Little Nine, Little Nine…" But the tears only flowed harder, falling like a string of pearls.
"Ah, Big Nine—you must be crying because I lost that book! Don't cry, I held onto it all this time, see—"
She hid her hand behind her back, then opened her palm. Inside lay three pages, the writing blurred beyond recognition by water.
Chang the Ninth took them with trembling hands, tears dripping onto them with soft tap, tap, smudging the ink further.
"Huh? Why are there only three pages left?" Little Nine hurriedly searched her pockets. The talisman slipped from her hand unnoticed, falling to the ground. Her body suddenly began to turn transparent.
"Rise!" A fire butterfly burned the talisman at the last second.
"Big Nine, I'm sorry… I remember now. When I fell in the river, I held onto it… but in the end I died… and the book was lost…"
"Little Nine… that book was written for you. If you're gone, what meaning does it have? What use is it to me? You are what matters!"
Her crying voice mirrored his. "But… I have to go…"
"To be precise, in about a minute," Hu Tao reminded. "Victor, let's give them some privacy."
"Mm."
Once they left, Little Nine, embarrassed but firm, said, "Big Nine, your stories are wonderful. Even if I'm gone, you must keep writing. Let more and more people know they were written by my Big Nine."
"I will, I promise…"
"Don't cry, don't cry." She reached up as if to pat his head.
Chang the Ninth forced a smile uglier than crying.
"Who would have thought Big Nine grew up so handsome!"
"…"
"I always thought… since we were both the ninth child in our families, and our names both had 'Nine,' we matched so well. But… it's too late. Big Nine should marry someday…"
"Without you, I'll never marry!"
"That won't do. Even without me, you must live well. Promise me?"
"…"
"Big Nine! Be strong. It's almost time to say goodbye."
"Little Nine…"
"In the future… whenever you're sad… write your sorrows on paper and burn them. I'll take them all away for you…"
"Little Nine!"
"Goodbye… goodbye…"
"Little Nine! Little Nine! Little Nine!!"
He tried to hold her, but in a blink, she was gone—leaving behind only three water-stained pages, proof that this was no dream.