"Please rest assured. I have only one simple request:
Do not tell my teacher about my death. Ever."
"My teacher once said that if a hundred years passed without contact, I should forget her."
"I'm about to die, so this is me obeying her instruction—forgetting her."
"As for the birthday gift you gave me… forgive me, but I don't have the fortune to accept it."
"My life has been fairly complete. I have no longing for eternal youth."
"My only regret… is that in the end, I still couldn't persuade my teacher to stop that forbidden research."
"When my teacher let me graduate, it probably wasn't anger. It was more likely that I was simply too dull, no longer able to comprehend more of what she taught."
"For an immortal species, years stretch long. Perhaps it won't take many more before my teacher forgets me entirely."
"In a long life, being able to know you has been my honor, Senior."
"Thank you for your favor, all these years."
"That's all. Qingtu-jie… goodbye."
The message ended.
Yu Qingtu's lips parted. She stared at the spot where the projection had vanished, unmoving for a long time.
"…When did he die?"
"Conclusion based on memory: Qi Zhimu passed away nine days after receiving your birthday gift," the doll replied.
Yu Qingtu felt as if her heart had been upended.
Stripping away the "genius" part of herself and staring straight into her own core, she confirmed something she'd avoided admitting:
Maybe… she had liked the little one.
But the quiet arrogance of talent had always labeled it admiration, never affection.
Now that she understood, it was far too late.
Yu Qingtu carefully picked up a piece of cake and put it into her mouth.
In an instant—
A flood of accumulated regrets across countless years slammed into her chest.
And in the end, it anchored on today: the day she learned Qi Zhimu was dead, the day she truly lost him.
"To the end, you only called me 'sister' once… If I'd known, I would've made you bake for me for a lifetime…"
"You little bastard…"
She solemnly stored away the remaining cake. As for the vial of immortality medicine—her "birthday present" that had been returned—
She sighed softly.
"Did he leave himself a grave?"
"Please follow me."
The doll turned and led her into the back mountain.
Before the old plum tree, Yu Qingtu lowered her gaze to the lonely stone.
[Grave of Qi Zhimu]
Only five characters. No life story. No origins.
No name of the one who erected it.
Plum blossoms were at their peak—red clustered on branches, fragrance drifting.
But no beauty could enter Yu Qingtu's eyes now.
She reached out and traced the rough stone.
Cold enough to pierce bone—colder than winter itself.
She could almost see him: facing death alone. With his temperament, even at the very end, the person in his mind was probably still Ruan Mei…
No funeral. No family. No friends.
So he built a doll—so someone could gather his remains.
And left behind nothing but this solitary stone, recording the name of a man who no longer clung to the world.
The plum grove held only the howl of winter wind.
Yu Qingtu stood before the grave, and every word she wanted to say lodged in her throat.
So this was how a person could vanish without sound.
A soft crunch of snow came from behind.
Yu Qingtu turned her head.
An orange cat—thin, somewhat familiar.
It dragged itself forward step by step, reaching the gravestone.
With a paw, it began to scrape away snow and fallen petals until it exposed the frozen black earth beneath.
Slow movements, but not a moment of hesitation.
When the pit was done—small, just large enough—it lowered its head and sniffed the patch of ground it had cleared.
Then it turned, curled into the hole, placed its chin gently atop crossed forepaws, and stared at the name on the stone.
Yu Qingtu could see its abdomen rise and fall with faint breaths—light, slow.
After about half a minute, those clouded eyes lost focus.
And closed completely.
The wind rose again. A few plum petals drifted down onto its back and head.
It didn't shake them off.
It simply lay there, prostrate.
Yu Qingtu understood.
The cat had reached the end of its long trek.
For twenty years it had never left, staying where its master had lived.
And when its own time came, it crawled to his grave to die of old age beside him.
"…"
Yu Qingtu couldn't force out a single word. Her eyes reddened.
How long had it been since she'd last been like this—eyes damp for someone?
Regret surged, unstoppable.
If she'd left just ten days later twenty years ago… how different things could've been.
If she wanted, she had countless methods to extend Qi Zhimu's life.
Yu Qingtu lifted her head and drew a deep breath, forcing herself steady.
She unsealed the vivid green potion and poured that immortality medicine—coveted across the cosmos—onto the ground before Qi Zhimu's grave.
"Little bastard… once a gift is given, it doesn't get taken back. If you won't accept it, I'll make you accept it."
She hadn't even accompanied him as long as a cat had.
In his heart, she had never weighed enough for him to linger in the world for her.
And she understood—one should not force someone to stay who no longer wished to stay.
But where did the universe ever grant "if"?
This was just the mind, scrambling for an explanation, a place to vent, a veil to cover the aching bite of remorse.
That was all.
Time passed. The cold wind eased.
Warm sunlight broke through the clouds and fell on Yu Qingtu's shoulder—and on Qi Zhimu's grave.
She stood there a long while, until night approached, then finally went down the mountain.
The bamboo house remained. The furnishings were the same.
As if nothing had changed.
Only—there would never again be that person's living trace.
....
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