Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1343 Will you take good care of them for me?

The question of "for whom to live" is essentially a false proposition, yet no one can prove it.

Because the moment those words are spoken, all courage to question or refuse disappears.

Ling looked sadly at the girl before him, but she smiled instead, gently stroking the young man's cheek, and whispered, "Human life is but a fleeting moment, born in the morning and dying at dusk. From the day we met, that number began to recede, and now we've simply returned to the starting point. Ling, haven't you ever felt this way?"
“I know, Saint Charlotte, I’ve always known…”

Lin Ge's voice was soft and delicate, as if it came from a gap in the sunlight, carrying an intangible warmth and a faint sadness: "But why does it have to be so fast?"

Human life is clearly a hundred years long. If, during those hundred years, the loved one never leaves, and every time you open your eyes and wake up, you can see her back and hear her laughter, the person being loved will naturally feel happy, and every second will feel as fulfilling as an entire century. But if one day, she suddenly says she has to leave, and then suddenly says she will not return, the time that passes in between is not as long as the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death. It's as if you wake up and a deity suddenly tells you, "This is the end." Can't you feel that this is actually a dream, and you haven't woken up yet?
“That would be too willful, Ling.”

Saint Charlotte replied, “Everyone has the right to be willful once, but you shouldn’t use it in a way like this.”

Lin Ge then asked her, "If it's not used here, where should it be used?"

The blue-haired girl blinked, her trembling eyelashes appearing somewhat translucent in the sunlight: "When one day, besides me, someone else tells you, 'I love you,' just be a little willful and tell her to change 'love' to 'like.'"

Because there is already one person in the world who deeply loves you.

Lin Ge felt a lump in his throat, a long-forgotten urge to cry welling up. But so many years had passed that he had long forgotten what crying felt like. So much so that when he wanted to cry, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly—something he had forgotten along with crying, but which he had rediscovered on this journey: "What kind of time is this to be saying such things..."

"It is precisely at times like these that we should say these things. If we don't say them now, it will be too late later."

Saint Charles smiled and slowly moved his hand down, stroking the young man's cheek, his neck, and finally stopping at his chest, where his heart was beating strongly, echoing someone's presence. She clenched her hand slightly, as if grasping something, and when she withdrew it, a phantom golden thread was wrapped around her fingertips, shimmering in the sunlight like the strings of a cello.

This is the string of destiny for young people.

Years ago, a young girl plucked this string, guiding a young man on a wondrous and incredible journey; years later, she repeats the same action, whether to continue the story or... return to the beginning?
“Everyone’s destiny is unidirectional, originating from the giant web woven by the laws of the mortal world, flowing to the unknown end of a long river, from birth to death, from past to future, from soul to body. The countless possibilities in between are actually just wishful thinking on the part of living beings. If the direction of progress is predetermined, how can the detours in the process be called ‘possibilities’? They are just minor details of fate.” Saint Charlotte stared at the line on her fingertips, inadvertently revealing the true meaning of fate.

“What a despairing theory,” the young man sighed.

“Perhaps fate is inherently something that brings despair, but mortals—we—often mistake that despair for hope.” The blue-haired girl paused, then said, “But you are different, Lin Ge.”

"What's the difference?"

“Because you are someone I favor.” She smiled slyly: “So, even this hopeless fate should at least show you some leniency.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the string of fate on her fingertips split in two, simultaneously encircling the girl and wrapping around her left and right hands respectively. This strange and almost miraculous sight made her eyes appear deep and mysterious: "You will become the only person in this universe who possesses two destinies and can freely choose between them."

“Choose the fate on the left—” She raised her left hand: “Your life will return to normal. Everything will seem like a dream to you. Once you wake up, discard it and focus on the life before you. In life, you will encounter many ups and downs, and you will always be drawn into a whirlpool that you cannot control. But if it is you, Ling, if it is you, you will never encounter that situation. You will live peacefully and steadily, isolated from all the suffering and tragedy of the world, and they will not interfere with each other.”

This was what the young man had once longed for, and the purpose of his journey. But now, he no longer craved it as much as before. Therefore, faced with the options offered by Saint Charlotte, he had only one question: "In that kind of life—"

He asked, enunciating each word clearly, "Will I also meet you, and meet all of you?"

Saint Charlotte smiled helplessly, as if she had known the young man would ask this question, but she couldn't stop him from asking: "The power of young girls is independent of the laws, and their fate is unchangeable."

That was tantamount to an answer. Ling nodded slightly and said without hesitation, "Then, I will choose another fate."

"Don't you want to find out what kind of fate that is first?"

The blue-haired girl looked at him deeply, as if she could see the future: "I see it. The flames are raging, the palaces are collapsing in the fire, the ancient land bears suffering, the road ahead is full of thorns, and living beings either rise into the clouds and turn into dust, or sink into the mud and become ashes. Even the gods cannot escape the whispers of evil and will be forever condemned to depravity. You are destined to walk with despair and be accompanied by loneliness. Every step you take will be like walking on thin ice, and you do not know if you can reach the other side... This is a difficult road, more difficult than you can imagine."

Ling's gaze followed the golden line that seemed to burn in the sunlight, stretching into the distance—the scene Saint Charlotte had described, a landscape filled with destruction and chaos. It was no easy path, but perhaps an abyss of no return. However, when his gaze shifted from the line back to Saint Charlotte's clear eyes, a strange calm washed over him. He said nothing, only slowly shook his head.

Saint Charlotte gazed at him, her deep golden eyes swirling with complex emotions she couldn't quite describe. Was it relief? Sadness? Or some kind of preordained destiny? The curve of her lips was heartbreakingly gentle: "Such a stubborn mortal..."

Perhaps this young man's fate was destined to be contrary to a peaceful life, and destined to be accompanied by the suffering of the world.

The instant this thought surfaced and vanished, the golden thread representing "peace" wrapped around her left hand, like morning dew evaporated by the sun, silently faded and dissipated, eventually turning into barely visible specks of golden dust that completely merged into the air. At the same time, the golden thread in her right hand, symbolizing "suffering," suddenly burst forth with an even more dazzling light. That light was no longer merely a reflection of sunlight, but burned intensely from within, as if infused with some powerful will. It stretched and tightened like a living thing, one end deeply plunging into Ling's violently beating heart, the other end piercing through Saint Charlotte's slender palm, as if inextricably linked to the strings of her own destiny.

Ling felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest, not from physical injury, but from a throbbing sensation as if his soul had been pierced and anchored by fate. He could clearly feel the burning heat and pulse emanating from this string of destiny, as if it had become a part of his life, pulling him toward that predetermined future, full of storms and flames.

And so, at this moment, the young man finally saw it.

When Saint Charlotte awakened her full power of destiny, everyone on this battlefield saw their own fate, past and future, except for the young, who saw nothing. But now, those missing visions have returned, and as if to confirm the truth that time is nothing more than a repetition of what has already happened, they are bound to come more turbulently, more fiercely, and more unstoppably.

He saw himself as a soldier, falling on the path of hunting down heretics, only to be rescued. At that time, someone told him that everything in this world has a price, and whether a person is worthy of being saved depends on whether he is willing to pay the price. If you have taken the lives of a thousand believers, then stay and pray for them; if you have not taken the lives of any believers, then leave this place and never return. The young man ultimately chose to stay.

He saw himself as a believer, having prayed devoutly before the image of the goddess for a hundred days and nights, yet never hearing Her voice. The one who had guided him to faith told him that faith in this world resides in the soul; only a pure soul can hear the response from the divine. If you feel your soul is already immaculate, then continue to pray for Her voice; but if you feel there is still impurity in your soul, then leave this place and go to the mortal world to refine yourself.

He saw himself as a wandering traveler, searching for a vague legend in the vast world, doing what little good he could, guiding the lost, relieving the suffering, and occasionally sharing a downpour with a stranger under a tree. That stranger had told him that there was no light ahead, only raging fire and endless suffering; if he was afraid, he could stay and live out his remaining years without illness or disaster; but if he still wanted to change something, if he didn't want to give up even if he was covered in wounds, then he should keep going.

Young people choose to move forward.

As he made his choice, the past shifted and blurred, countless familiar figures appearing within. He saw himself as a soldier, following a white-haired, red-eyed female knight on a white horse; the one who rescued him was a mirror spirit girl with crystalline blue hair and a sly smile. The person who asked him whether to bear the consequences or leave seemed to have two identical faces, one gentle, the other indifferent. He saw himself as a believer, kneeling and praying with someone who had beautiful blood-red eyes but looked like a child; the one who guided him into the mortal world always smiled gently, and liked to wrap herself in wings when she was happy. He saw himself as a wandering traveler, helping a lost light spirit princess find her way, and sheltering from the rain under a tree with a blue-haired shepherdess. It was then that she asked him whether to move forward or backward, and when he chose to move forward, she happily told him—

“From this moment on,” the voice came from the past, drifted into the future, and settled in the present: “You possess destiny, Ling.”

Young people don't inherently have a destiny.

But from this moment on, his fate will be inextricably linked with those girls who have fallen to earth, never to be separated.

The moment the light faded, the invisible force supporting the girl's body also dissipated.

Lin Ge suddenly felt a weight in his arms.

“Saint Charlotte?” He instinctively tightened his arms, his voice trembling slightly.

The blue-haired girl didn't respond, but simply followed his force, like a cat whose bones had been removed, softly and obediently sliding into his arms. Her body was so light that it seemed weightless, or perhaps, the essence that had once supported her in guiding her destiny and plucking the strings of her instrument had quietly returned to heaven and earth.

Her head tilted gently, resting comfortably on his broad but not muscular shoulder. A strand of her dark hair fell down, brushing against his neck, carrying the warm scent of sunlight and a faint fragrance, like grass after rain. Her long eyelashes drooped quietly, casting a soft shadow beneath her eyelids, obscuring those clear, golden eyes that had once reflected the river of fate and seen through the past and future.

Ling remained stiffly in the embrace, feeling the incredible lightness and warmth in his arms. He lowered his head, his nose almost touching the tips of her soft hair. Observing a girl at such close range wasn't a first for him, but this time it seemed to hold a particularly important meaning. He saw that her face was incredibly calm, with even a very faint, almost imperceptible smile lingering at the corners of her lips, as if she were satisfied after completing a small prank, or as if a traveler who had finally reached their destination after a long journey, finding peace after shedding all their weariness.

A vast, boundless silence enveloped the two of them, so heavy that it made it almost impossible for the young man to breathe, yet so gentle, as if the whole world had held its breath to listen to her murmurs.

"Ling Ge... please take good care of them for me."

"……kindness."

Give me some cats