Endure? Still endure?
Seeing Jiang Lingwei like this, how the [expletive] was Jiang Cheng supposed to hold back!
Jiang Cheng couldn’t restrain his feelings at all. He took a step forward and said,
“I’ll help you!”
As he stepped out, Jiang Cheng looked at Jiguang’s expression and knew in his heart he had made the right choice.
No rewind.
That meant this was exactly what he did back then!
(Not bad, me.)
“No need.”
But, facing his offer, Jiguang didn’t even think about it. She gently shook her head and flatly refused, then said,
“From here on, it’s not just about saving people from the ruins. See, I didn’t even call Jingcha or any of the 11Jiu people here.”
“For the rest, having ordinary people around will just create more problems.”
She glanced down at the pink gem on her spirit attire at her chest:
“Nothing I can do, my recovery’s getting slower and slower. Normally it’s fine, but right now I really can’t look after you.”
“If… my companions were here… they’re much better than I am.”
“Oh, right.”
She summoned her magical gear—the staff topped with a pink gemstone—into her hand.
“Come on, look over here…”
Jiang Cheng immediately turned his head to the other side:
“I’ve seen Men in Black, don’t pull this trick.” (Men in Black 3 was released in May 2012.)
(Okay, actually, I just happened to come across a video about it a few days ago when I was bored at home, pure coincidence.)
After muttering the truth to himself, Jiang Cheng’s vision flashed white.
“Swoosh.”
“Come on, look over here…”
(Men in Black counts? She’s totally playing that joke!)
Looking at Jiguang raising her staff, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help feeling both helpless and a bit relieved.
At least it didn’t start with “Wait for me to recover,” which meant there was still a save point.
He had a bit of freedom, but he couldn’t stray too far from the script.
But after a few tries, he made a pleasant discovery.
That was, at least for now, he only got rewound if his words were too advanced or out of character, or if he called out Jiguang’s real name, not because of his basic motivations.
That meant things like making a fire, covering her with a blanket, or stopping Jiguang were all things his past self had done.
These weren’t “cutscene CGs,” but the same choices made in both past and present, which made Jiang Cheng very satisfied.
…9
The little bit of self-doubt he’d had before had completely vanished.
Being able to make the same choices over and over was proof that, even if his memories were different, both the past him and the present Jiang Cheng were the same person.
After understanding this, Jiang Cheng felt much more at ease.
Seeing that Jiguang had already raised her staff, he couldn’t be happy for long. He quickly pretended not to know and asked with his head slightly tilted:
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll send you out in just a moment.”
Before he could react, warm light enveloped Jiang Cheng.
“Heave-ho.”
Putting away her staff, Jiguang clapped her hands and was about to come closer, but then, after looking at Jiang Cheng, she suddenly exclaimed in surprise:
“Wait, how come you still look so clear-headed?”
“Why can’t I be?”
The girl looked so cute that Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but smile, “What, how am I supposed to look?”
“This, this isn’t right!”
Jiguang was shocked, “My magic isn’t working?!”
She hurriedly waved her hand: “Levitate.”
Light magic swirled, and a large brick wall floated up.
“No problem!”
Afraid of using too much magic, she quickly canceled the spell, then circled Jiang Cheng with a confused look. This time she was truly stunned, backing up several steps and clutching her head, shouting:
“No way, could it be that you’re also…?! What the heck! The old man said this kind of thing might not even happen once in a thousand years!”
It took her several seconds to gulp nervously, then she waved her hand and said,
“Time’s short, um, your situation can wait until later.”
“I promise you now, come with me, uh, just help me look for people, and when they’re healed enough to walk, I’ll have them walk out on their own.”
“Walk out on their own?”
Jiang Cheng asked in confusion.
“Yeah, that’s what I was doing just now. I have to make them forget this painful memory, but after I wipe their memories, I can’t just let them keep lying there, right? I use a control spell, it’s just like—sleepwalking.”
Jiguang glanced off into the distance, at the ruined wasteland.
It was her second day waking up in the rubble. On the first day, she’d done her best to slay every dark monster she saw, heal the wounded on the surface, wipe their memories, and have them walk out of this magic zone where dark magic no longer surged.
Again and again she overdrew her magic, and the pain in her heart almost crushed her.
She tried not to think about it.
But… her magic recovered slower and slower, her strength weaker each time. That was the reality.
Retirement, she had to retire.
The senses belonging to a magical girl told her so.
She probably… couldn’t return to her peak anymore. But this wasn’t how she wanted to retire.
While searching for new survivors, Jiguang spoke:
“Let me ask you first, do you want to become a magical girl?”
“Huh?”
Now it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to be startled, “What kind of question is that? How can I be a magical girl?!”
“This, this…”
Jiguang’s tone grew complicated:
“Well, in short, being a magical girl isn’t so inconvenient.”
“You probably could… I guess, uh, let’s talk about this later.”
Noticing a sound, Jiguang quickly hurried to a pile of rubble and used magic to move away the stones and broken furniture piled on top.
Beneath it was a couple who looked fairly young, but they were already dead.
Yet, underneath them, there was still life.
“Alright.”
Jiguang murmured to herself as if no one else were present:
“Number five hundred and twenty-one, hopefully not an infant.”
Using levitation magic, she moved the couple’s bodies aside. Underneath, a little girl of about five, her arm broken, was unconscious.
“[Healing Bubble].”
She held out her hands, forming a bubble glowing with warm white light that enveloped the little girl. Without stopping for even a moment or looking back at the bubble carrying the girl away through the sky, Jiguang simply continued forward.
No respect for the dead, no concern for where the bubble was going or whether it would be intercepted by lurking monsters. She simply searched for the next living person, her heart nearly numb.
From there, her conversations with Jiang Cheng became intermittent.
Usually after silently saving many people, she would comment or explain something that happened half an hour before.
For example—
“Nothing to be done, five hundred and sixty-one.”
While sending the woman ahead to leave, Jiguang explained:
“I really don’t have time to worry about everyone, and besides, I’m running out of magic.”
“Six hundred seventy-three, so sometimes you just have to do what you can and leave the rest to fate.”
“All I can do is heal them enough to barely walk.”
“As for whether there’s internal injuries or aftereffects later… I really can’t help.”
“Crack—”
“Heave-ho, that’s the hundred and twenty-fifth… or was it the hundred and twenty-sixth beast I’ve killed? Whatever, let’s call it one hundred and twenty-five.”
“Those I sent away, and those who left on their own, maybe some of them will get intercepted by beasts anyway. In the end they’ll die, and I wasted so much magic.”
“Brother, do you think what I’m doing means anything?”
“It’s meaningful.”
About the question of “meaning,” maybe even she herself hadn’t noticed—Jiguang had asked Jiang Cheng the same question many times that day.
And whether he was helping to lift stones or soothing the conscious survivors, Jiang Cheng always gave her the same answer.
Each time he affirmed her, Jiguang would nod in satisfaction and then energetically charge ahead again.
The world was dark all around, time had lost its meaning.
They worked through the night, and by what was probably dawn, Jiguang was once again out of magic, slumping against a section of wall—then yelping as the rebar inside jabbed her, rubbing her behind and cursing.
“Right.”
While resting, Jiguang finally remembered to ask:
“I still haven’t asked—what’s your name?”
“I…”
Jiang Cheng lost control—a cutscene CG had arrived.
“I have no name.”
He said.
“I don’t remember what my old name was. Doesn’t matter, I’m an orphan.”
Jiguang sized him up:
“You do look like some mixed-blood kid abandoned by irresponsible parents, with that silver hair and all… Ah, never mind.”
“Jiang Cheng” said, “Good, I’m unburdened, ready to start my [life].”
“How about… you give me a name?”
“Me?!”
Jiguang pointed at herself, “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Jiang Cheng” said, “Before you take a rest, give me a name.”
“Ah… you mean it…”
Too tired to think much, the magical girl said, “Then, surname?”
“Say whatever you like.”
“Alright, you’ll take my surname—Jiang.”
The girl leaned against him—this was something Jiang Cheng had suggested earlier.
“Ha… what to call you…”
With a little yawn, Jiguang fretted:
“So random? I’m terrible at naming, you really want me to do it?”
“I do.”
“Alright, since it’s a new life, then you’ll be called… Jiang… Ren… Jiang Chengren!”
“Oh, Jiang Cheng? Sounds good.”
Realizing her slip, Jiguang quickly apologized, “Sorry, my brain’s all fuzzy, I didn’t mean—” “No, it’s Jiang Chengren!”
“I like it. Just call me Jiang Cheng from now on.”
“I… fine!”
Jiguang nudged his waist with her head:
“If you get sleepy, wake me up, we’ll take turns. And the usual rules—if you get scared, call me right away.”
“Alright.”
Jiang Cheng replied.