Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1364 Is it obvious?
As he walked down the stairs, Ling was still pondering Alice's words.

Alice is right. Admitting weakness is not shameful; rather, it is the beginning of honestly facing oneself.

Young people are accustomed to burying their emotions deep inside, wrapping themselves in calmness and rationality, as if appearing strong enough can withstand all external worries and concerns. This became even more apparent after Saint Charlotte's departure. But when that girl with blue hair and gentle eyes entered his room alone late one night, melting away the ancient ice in his heart with all her love, was it merely to one day make him repeat the same mistakes?

Ordinary people in this world always walk a path of fighting against themselves, as if conquering themselves is the greatest victory. This is not the first time the young man has pretended to be strong. Many years ago, he watched a man bearing the name of his father enter his life in the same way and for the same reason, and then abandon him in the same way, as if his and her arrival was only to bring the young man a moment of peace. But he soon fell back into the loneliness he had long been accustomed to, forgetting that the pain of struggling repeatedly between the dead and the mortal is enough to tear a person apart completely.

When Mr. Yangko was buried deep in the snow and wind of Itne Cemetery, the young man was so saddened that he wanted to cry, but he forcibly restrained himself. Could that be called strength? When Saint Charlotte peacefully closed her eyes in his arms, the young man tried to control his tears, but he was powerless to stop them from rushing and flowing in his eyes like a river. Could that be called weakness? There are no unchanging theorems for weakness and strength in this world. The only thing that can define them is what Goddess left in the heart of every life at the beginning of creation. Sometimes soft, sometimes hard; sometimes called love, sometimes smeared as desire... In the end, only sincere emotion remains.

Ovira's worries, Alice's frankness, and even the silent concern of others all stemmed from the most genuine emotions, yet some stubbornly believed that bearing it alone was the best response to others. He regretted not understanding this sooner, not because of Mr. Yanco and Saint Charlotte's departure, but because his stubbornness prevented him from ultimately saying goodbye to them with a sense of peace as they left.

If he had learned to be honest about his feelings back then, perhaps those two wouldn't have been so worried before leaving, as if they couldn't let go of their greatest attachment to the mortal world. In this respect, the young man was indeed inferior to Alice.

He recalled the self-assured expression on the genius player's face when she uttered "majority rules," and a slight smile crept onto his lips. That was indeed her style—simple, direct, even somewhat unreasonable, yet strangely persuasive. Perhaps it was precisely because the world didn't always operate rationally that people needed to rely more on emotional connections. He wasn't unaware of this principle; it was just that he had long been accustomed to constructing his self-boundaries with reason. Taking that step now, actively exposing his vulnerability, still required some courage from him.

But he had promised Alice that he would try—even if it was just to live up to her clumsy concern.

Thinking of this, Lin Ge took a deep breath, as if to exhale the pent-up feelings in his chest. He wasn't sure if he could change immediately, but at least he was willing to begin examining his inner self and acknowledging those emotions that he had deliberately ignored: the sadness of loss, the uncertainty of the future, and even the anger at his own powerlessness... These were not things that could be truly resolved by pretending to be strong.

As Alice said, it is precisely because everyone understands the weight of this sorrow that no one will blame him for being "not strong".

……

When I went down the stairs, the hotel was empty.

The last rays of the setting sun, like blood, silently seeped across the windowsill, flooding the living room, engulfing the floor and furniture, plunging everything into a deep, still silence. Through the crack in the door, a familiar aroma wafted in; the landlady was busy in the kitchen. Dinner was stewed beef with potatoes, a dish the young man and his sister used to make most often when they lived in Linville. Even after their adoptive father, Mr. Yang Ke, passed away, and the young man shouldered the burden of his sister's studies and the management of the Heavenly Heart Church, causing the family's finances to decline, he still insisted on making this dish every two or three days, just to see the happy smile on Medine's face as she ate the meat.

Potatoes grown in one's own backyard, cheap beef from the community market, a little salt and seasonings, and if conditions permit, carrots and turnips—chopped into chunks, water added, heated, and stewed—and from this arises the simplest kind of happiness. For most people in the world, being able to eat a delicious stew of potatoes and beef is already above average happiness. Unfortunately, those who can afford it are often not satisfied, because for them, happiness is not about contentment, but about pursuit: pursuing what they lack, striving for the extreme when things are average, and seeking other things when they are self-sufficient.

Thus, the standard of happiness gradually shifted from what one possessed to what one possessed the most, from what one obtained to what one gained without effort, and from what one needed to what others wanted. Young people once thought such people were pathetic, but they didn't realize that they were gradually assimilating into them, because they were moving further and further away from their original ideals, yet closer and closer to human emotions.

Once the journey began, especially after the three sisters of the Fairy Sleep Inn also arrived on Cloud Whale Sky Island, he no longer needed to take care of the kitchen. The landlady, Siesta, was a skilled cook who, in her youth, had traveled throughout the Western Continent, learning about and appreciating the unique cuisines of different regions, countries, and even races. Coupled with the naturally hospitable nature of the traveling fairies, the various delicacies and snacks offered always dazzled and delighted everyone, whether it was three meals a day or afternoon tea. As for home-style dishes like beef stew with potatoes, they rarely appeared on the inn's table.

Years later, Lin Ge had long forgotten the earnest way he had helped Mr. Yanko in the kitchen, learning how to make this dish; he had also long forgotten the sorrowful scene of making this dish to comfort Medine on the night Mr. Yanko was buried in the cemetery, only to find her not smiling as usual. All of this was destined to leave, merely a fleeting pause in time, but why? When the familiar aroma wafted faintly in the wind, those long-sealed memories resurfaced, as if they were hidden in the taste buds of youth, instantly surfacing upon tasting a similar flavor, rather than residing in the heart, brain, or soul.

Nothing is different.

Mr. Yang taught his young adopted son to make this dish to show him what happiness truly looks like, rather than letting him wallow in the past years of wandering. The proprietress specially made this dish for the young man to remind him that everything you possess has never truly left; it has simply changed its form to accompany you. The flavors of the past are all passed down through generations, while human memory often moves forward, never looking back. The only requirement is not to forget, but also not to dwell on the past too much.

"Ling, what are you doing here?" A questioning voice interrupted the young man's thoughts. He snapped out of his reverie and met the curious gaze of the bartender, Sheria, who was carrying a vegetable basket filled with freshly picked vegetables. "Ah, sorry." Ling realized he had been standing in the kitchen doorway for too long and quickly stepped aside. "Am I blocking your way?"

"It's nothing, but why do you have to stand here in a daze?"

"Well..." The young man thought for a moment, but couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse. In the end, he could only honestly admit, "I just smelled a familiar scent and suddenly felt a little nostalgic."

Shelia looked at the young man from head to toe with a complex expression of surprise, doubt, and excitement, as if she had discovered a new continent. He looked so uneasy that he asked, "Is there something on my face, Shelia?"

"No, nothing, it's fine, it's fine as it is." Shelia shook her head repeatedly in denial, her bangs almost flying out of shape. Seeing that Lin Ge still looked doubtful, she quickly changed the subject: "Is it the beef and potato stew that Big Sister is making? She specifically asked Medien about it, and she knows that when you were still living in the human city, this was your favorite dish. Medien also said that if she made this dish for you, your mood might improve. Hmm, it seems to be very effective. You haven't even eaten it yet, and you've already changed so much. I think it's not much less comforting than Xia's... Hmm!"

The name that slipped out unconsciously made Sheria cover her mouth, inwardly cursing herself for being so talkative and bringing up such a sore subject. Strangely, however, Ling didn't react much; he was merely surprised that Medien thought that way. In his memory, he had always made this dish because his sister loved it, never neglecting her despite the family's financial difficulties.

Whose impression is correct?

Or perhaps, when he watched Medine eat the beef stew he had cooked and smiled happily, Medine saw the same expression on his face?
It's like two mirrors reflecting each other.

"Lingge, Sheria, what are you two chatting about at the door?" The landlady's voice came from the kitchen. The clatter of pots and pans and the chatter of the rabbits helping out made the kitchen sound like a symphony orchestra playing. Perhaps because of this, the landlady's tone wasn't as gentle as usual, carrying a hint of command as she forcefully assigned tasks to the two: "If you have nothing to do, come and help! Lingge, dinner's almost ready, go call everyone back to eat! Sheria, where are the vegetables I asked you to pick? Hurry up and bring them in!"

"Big Sister's here!" Sheria called out loudly, then lowered her voice to remind Ling, "We'd better do what Big Sister says as soon as possible. It'll be terrible if she finds out we're slacking off. You know how Big Sister is..."

"Xie, Li, Ya!?"

"I'm coming!"

Without even speaking to Ling Ge, the bartender hurriedly entered the kitchen with a basket of vegetables. In her haste, she didn't notice a Mr. Rabbit blocking her way and tripped over it... Then, even more chaotic noises and the landlady's exasperated scolding came from the kitchen.

The young man thought for a moment, realizing that staying might cause him trouble, so he silently mourned for the unfortunate bartender for a second before turning and leaving the hotel. As he reached the entrance, he saw a small figure walking towards him cheerfully in the afterglow of the setting sun, bleating at him when she saw him.

The lamb must have been playing in the primrose field; a few petals clung to its fur and hooves, and it wore a small wreath woven from primrose branches on its head—probably placed there by Iyeta. The young man crouched down and gently ruffled its head. The lamb didn't resist, but instead bleated excitedly, probably expressing how much fun it had had that day, how beautiful the scenery in the flower field was, how generous Iyeta was, and how she had woven the wreath and given it treats…

In truth, Ling couldn't understand a word. After all, he wasn't Saint Charlotte or Shemi; how could he possibly understand sheep language? But their joyful enthusiasm seemed to infect him, bringing a gentle smile to the young man's face. He couldn't help but think that perhaps the little sheep was the strongest being on Cloud Whale Sky Island, not the feigned strength he possessed. It would grieve for its master's departure, unwilling to accept reality, always believing she would return, stubbornly waiting on that little hill every night; but when its master couldn't be with it, it would diligently take care of itself, eating when it was time to eat until it was full, playing when it was time to play until it was happy… Whether happy or sad, it was so sincere, honest, and unpretentious—that was true strength.

“Little lamb,” the young man stroked its soft, white fur and asked softly, “do you also think I’m putting on a brave face?”

He didn't actually expect to get an answer from the lamb, or even understand his question or the complex emotion of "showing off." He was just talking to himself. However, after hearing his question, the lamb looked up at him, its eyes filled with human-like contempt, and bleated arrogantly, as if to say—

Isn't that obvious?
　Give me some cats
　　(End of this chapter)