Unmodifiable Memory

Xia Lun suddenly woke from his dream, gasping for breath.

“What’s wrong, Xia Lun?” Aina gently patted his back, her voice soft and soothing.

“I... feel like I’ve lost something very important.” Xia Lun was slightly dazed, his voice hoarse. He raised a hand to his forehead, his fingertips trembling faintly as he spoke with lingering fear.

Aina held Xia Lun tighter in her arms. “Is that so? Is Aise still that important to you? After all this time, you still haven’t been able to let him go.”

“Aise is my son, after all.” Xia Lun sighed. Suddenly, as if realizing something, his voice cut off abruptly. “Wait... Aina, what did you say? Aise...”

“Aise is dead.” Aina told Xia Lun this fact with remarkable calmness, as if the one who had died wasn’t their son but a complete stranger. “Just now, Aise’s soul aura vanished completely.”

Xia Lun’s pupils instantly contracted, and he froze in place as if time itself had come to a halt. For an entire minute, he remained motionless, until Aina’s soft lips gently pressed against his, pulling his mind back to reality.

“It’s okay, you still have me.” Aina released Xia Lun’s lips, then slowly rose, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing his face against her chest. “I will always be your family...”

The impact of this news on Xia Lun was no less severe than when he had personally executed Aise a thousand years ago.

Xia Lun let out a long sigh. The painful memories buried by time surged back like a tide, nearly drowning him.

“Then... what about Mian?”

“He’s fine. Aise didn’t do anything to him.” Aina shook her head, signaling Xia Lun to be at ease. “It even surprised me a little.”

“Is that so? That’s great...” Xia Lun forced a bitter smile.

“We’ll find out what happened when dawn comes. That child is very tired now and has already fallen asleep. Don’t worry, he’s okay. Musen is with him.”

“Mm.” Xia Lun responded gently.

“Let’s go back to sleep too.” Aina held Xia Lun as they lay down again. She wrapped her whole body around him, as if this could shield him from all the pain of the outside world.

After a moment, the steady rhythm of his wife’s breathing sounded beside him.

Xia Lun gazed out the window. The white gauze curtains were drawn, but he could vaguely see the bright full moon in the sky, shining with an unusually brilliant light that night. Its pure radiance filtered through the curtains, coating the room in a faint silvery white.

He tried to close his eyes, but his eyelids seemed to have a will of their own and refused to shut.

“Can’t sleep?” Aina whispered softly in Xia Lun’s ear.

“A little.”

“Then...”

Aina’s bat-like wings spread over them, like the softest blanket, enveloping them both.

“Aina, I...” Xia Lun struggled slightly—he really wasn’t in the mood right now.

“I’m not that oblivious to the mood.” Aina wrapped her arms around Xia Lun from behind, her long legs overlapping his. “Don’t move. Just like this, Xia Lun. Just like this.”

Feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his back, Xia Lun’s tense nerves finally began to relax. Aina’s heartbeat came through the thin pajamas, steady and strong, like the most soothing rhythm.

“Sleep, Xia Lun... dear, relax. Don’t think about those complicated things...” Aina whispered softly in his ear, her hands gently brushing through his black hair. Her soft cheek pressed against the back of his neck, and she planted a series of feather-light kisses there.

His wife’s comfort was effective. The night was deep, and Xia Lun indeed felt a trace of fatigue.

Unconsciously, Xia Lun’s consciousness gradually faded, and he finally sank into a dreamless sleep.

...

The first rays of morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, landing right on Xia Lun’s face.

It was a bit late waking up, but he had slept well, and he felt remarkably refreshed.

Xia Lun walked to the window. He didn’t see Mian exercising in the yard... which wasn’t hard to understand, given what had happened the night before.

Aina appeared silently behind him, holding a loose robe, and carefully helped him put it on. Her movements were practiced and gentle, her fingertips occasionally brushing against his neck with a familiar coolness.

Dressed, Xia Lun walked steadily down the hallway.

“Mr. Xia Lun... I’m still alive...”

When he arrived at Mian’s room and saw Xia Lun, these were Mian’s first words.

But the expression on his face didn’t carry much joy of survival; instead, it was shrouded in an unshakable melancholy.

Xia Lun patted him on the shoulder. “These past days, you’ve been through a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Xia Lun, I used Aise...” Mian tried to return the dagger in his hand—the Soul Judgment Blade that Aina had lent him.

“You performed better than I expected.” Aina spoke flatly, her gaze lingering on Mian for a moment. “Keep that dagger. Consider it a gift.”

Mian hesitated. He knew that if this Soul Judgment Blade were ever revealed to the outside world, it would spark a frenzy of people scrambling for it. But gaining such a treasure brought him no joy; he simply put the dagger away silently, his movements slow, as if completing a ritual.

“You did nothing wrong, Mian...” Xia Lun’s gaze was gentle. “Thank you for seeing Aise off on his final journey.”

“Uh, ah, it was nothing.” Mian didn’t quite know what he was saying, but receiving Xia Lun’s affirmation and comfort seemed to ease his expression somewhat.

“Alright, I’ll delete that guy’s memories for you.” Aina interrupted their conversation. “Forget him, and return to your old life. You’ll be better off.”

“I...” A trace of bitterness and reluctance appeared on Mian’s face. He ultimately didn’t want to forget this memory, even if it was filled with pain... In the end, he gave in and nodded resignedly.

A tiny spark of light emanated from Aina’s fingertip, like a firefly on a summer night, and gently drifted into Mian’s forehead.

Then... that glow was pushed back by an invisible force and dissipated into the air.

Aina was momentarily stunned, and Xia Lun’s eyes widened in surprise.

Aina tried again, this time with a more solid glow carrying an irresistible force. Yet the result was the same—the moment the light touched Mian’s forehead, it evaporated like a water droplet hitting a red-hot iron.

Xia Lun blinked. Maybe he was dreaming to see Aina fail.

Aina’s expression gradually darkened.

“The goddess has tampered with this one.” Aina snorted with clear displeasure, withdrawing her hand. “His memories can’t be altered.”