The time passed steadily, though not for long.
[Remaining Lifespan: 3 Days 23 Hours 46 Minutes 27 Seconds]
The plum blossoms pickled two days ago had completed the astringency removal process; they only needed to be mixed with white liquor and sealed, ready to be opened and drunk after aging for over a year.
The older the vintage, the better the flavor.
"The process for making plum blossom brew seems so simple, and it doesn't use any special ingredients I recognize. Why is it so delicious?"
Clarice blinked her big eyes, her face a picture of confusion.
The hardest step, arguably, was personally climbing the mountain to pick the plum blossoms.
The subsequent steps—draining the water, sugaring, and finally sealing it with liquor—were simple enough for a child to memorize and learn.
"Perhaps plum blossom brew is just like that; simple to make, yet exceptionally tasty."
"Mmm..."
Despite saying that, Clarice always felt there was some hidden secret.
When her mother tasted the Preserved Plum Soybean Cake she brought home the day before yesterday, she cried non-stop, holding Clarice and weeping for half the night.
It seemed that the richer one's experience and the older one was, the more profound the feeling evoked by that taste.
If the function of the Preserved Plum Soybean Cake was to make people confront long-settled regrets and sorrow,
then the plum blossom brew made by Mr. Qi did the exact opposite, allowing one to temporarily cast worries aside.
Could it be... Clarice suddenly recalled that the Academy Headmaster's office contained a rather peculiar water dispenser.
The water poured from that dispenser would turn sweet.
A student had once curiously asked the Headmaster about the mechanism, and the Headmaster explained that the dispenser was a Marvel.
Along with that, he also explained the types of Marvels.
They were myriad and varied; there was everything.
A puddle of water could be a Marvel, a ball of fire could be one, or an object with a solid form.
Even food could be a type of Marvel.
Something possessing a special effect wasn't necessarily a Marvel, but something without a special effect definitely wasn't one, regardless of whether that effect was useful to humans.
Never mind, let's not dwell on this for now.
"When are you leaving, Mr. Qi? I'll come to see you off."
"...The day after tomorrow at this time." Qi Zhimu's expression remained normal.
"Eh?" Clarice was somewhat surprised.
"What's wrong?"
"Three days from now is the Great Cold, your birthday. I thought you would leave after celebrating your birthday."
She thought for a moment, subconsciously feeling that Mr. Qi might be celebrating with someone important.
But the thought quickly shifted; he always celebrated alone before.
Every time that day came, Mr. Qi would drink until he was nearly intoxicated to celebrate.
"Mr. Qi, are you celebrating with your teacher this year?" she couldn't help but ask.
"No, my teacher will not see me again. The specific reason is inconvenient to elaborate."
"I'm sorry, I asked something I shouldn't have..."
"It's alright."
Qi Zhimu sealed the last wine jar and moved them all to the cellar.
Just as he was about to stand up, a severe dizziness struck his brain, and his body weakly collapsed to the side.
"Mr. Qi! Mr. Qi?!"
Before his consciousness completely sank into darkness, the girl's panicked cries vaguely reached him.
After an unknown amount of time, Qi Zhimu slowly woke up.
Clarice's familiar face came into view, though her pretty face was now etched with worry and exhaustion.
Her eyes were red, tear stains still visible, clearly showing she had been crying for quite a while.
"You're finally awake..."
Clarice's voice was hoarse, completely lacking the youthful vitality of usual.
Qi Zhimu tried to push himself up but found himself too weak to exert any strength.
"I'm fine..."
He froze the moment he spoke.
His voice lacked any of the clarity of youth; it was only the hoarseness of an elderly person.
"You suddenly collapsed, and in less than ten seconds you aged? And you say you're fine?!"
Clarice absolutely did not believe Qi Zhimu, her voice carrying obvious sobs.
"...What exactly happened, Mr. Qi? Please don't hide it from me, okay?"
Qi Zhimu sighed deeply but did not immediately start explaining.
Accidents always permeate life.
The special medicine he had made earlier had developed drug resistance in these final few days of life.
Or perhaps, his decaying body could no longer fully absorb the medicine's effects.
In any case, the reason no longer mattered.
He had intended to die quietly alone, but it seemed that was no longer possible.
"Clarice, I am about to die of old age, on the day of the Great Cold."
"What?!"
Seeing the girl's look of utter disbelief, Qi Zhimu confirmed it again.
"I am dying."
Clarice's expression instantly froze. A few seconds later, she vehemently shook her head: "Impossible! You're playing a trick, right? How can a healthy person suddenly..."
"There is no trick."
Qi Zhimu interrupted, his voice very weak, yet it severed all her lingering hope.
"All these years, I have been taking medication to maintain my youthful appearance. What you see now is my original form."
The atmosphere suddenly became terrifyingly quiet.
Clarice opened her mouth but could not utter a sound.
Looking at his calm face, then at his withered hands, she suddenly realized—
All that talk about traveling far away, for a few months or even decades... it was all a lie!
Liar!
"Why... didn't you tell me the truth..." Her voice trembled, and her tears burst forth uncontrollably.
"It would only cause unnecessary sorrow."
Qi Zhimu smiled, his expression open and accepting.
"Being able to die of old age is a blessing for humans, but people are accustomed to defining farewells as sorrowful."
He looked out the window; the sky was darkening.
"So, don't be sad, girl. Not everyone has the fortune to die naturally of old age; you should be happy for this nearly 175-year-old man."
Clarice bit her lip tightly.
Mr. Qi was going to die of old age... The divination from three months ago wasn't entirely wrong, but it wasn't entirely right either.
How could she possibly say what she intended to say now—the gift and confession she had prepared for so long?
Since the day she met Mr. Qi, this regret was inevitable.
He could never accept her; instead, he might feel guilty, because... she understood Mr. Qi too well. Even if she confessed everything, Mr. Qi would refuse under the pretense of not wanting to hold her back... He wouldn't even say he had no feelings for her, he would use 'I simply don't like you' as the reason for refusal.
Mr. Qi was such a gentle person... always wanting to take all the responsibility and blame upon himself.
But where was his fault?
Clarice felt utterly powerless.
Fate was somewhat cruel to her; the person she loved was right before her, yet she couldn't speak.
To add trouble for Mr. Qi in these final moments would be too selfish.