Seeing this scene, Ruan Mei's fingernails dug deeply into her palms, drawing blood.
At this moment, she wished so desperately that Rrakavasha would release all his resentment and hatred toward his teacher, scream at her, curse her, anything.
But there was nothing.
He had no expression, as if he'd stopped thinking entirely, and his body exuded no emotional aura whatsoever. He simply stood there motionless, hollow.
Late at night, Rrakavasha arrived at the wine cellar with stiff, mechanical steps, took all three jars of plum blossom wine, and returned to the window of the bamboo house.
He sat there like an automaton, opened the seal of the wine jar, picked it up, tilted his head back, and drank.
Before even finishing the first jar, he was already showing signs of intoxication.
But he didn't stop. After drinking two jars in a row, a smile appeared on his expressionless face, wrong and broken, as he slowly stood up.
Ruan Mei had no idea what would happen next, and many guesses flashed through her mind, each worse than the last.
But what came was beyond any expectation.
Rrakavasha returned to the medical room and stopped in front of the control panel.
Without any pause or hesitation, he began writing the same code he'd used before, the memory erasure program.
"No, no..."
Ruan Mei couldn't help but sob and plead, her composure finally shattering completely.
No matter how much she pleaded, those memories of the past wouldn't stay or change for her; time was immutable and cruel.
For Rrakavasha, it wasn't only about reliving the collapse and despair of 150 years ago, but also about reliving the boundless pain of personally tearing himself apart again.
Even now, Ruan Mei hadn't seen a trace of resentment or hatred in Rrakavasha's actions.
Please, say something...
Anything...?
Her plea seemed to transcend time and space and the sea of stars. Rrakavasha, beginning to strip away his memories once more, lowered his eyes and murmured to himself.
"If only I hadn't brewed the three-year plum blossom wine..."
"If only she hadn't saved me..."
"If only she hadn't taken me back..."
"It's all my fault... It's all my fault... I made her unhappy..."
Under the light, Rrakavasha's shadow slowly writhed, eventually shrinking completely into his body, consumed from within.
An atmosphere of solitude and desolation quietly enveloped the interior of the room.
Upon witnessing this phenomenon, Ruan Mei's pupils suddenly contracted in horror.
She had met certain Pathstriders and knew what this meant...
At this moment, Rrakavasha had stepped into the shadow of IX, the Nihility, and had become a Self-Annihilator.
Those who walked the path of self-destruction often shared common characteristics: all their attributes of existence, body, cognition, and memory would gradually disappear on their journey toward nothingness.
Some people's skin became like rotten, withered wood, covered with scars and holes.
Some people's endocrine systems began to malfunction, they experienced neither pleasure nor pain, becoming numb to everything.
Some people lost their memories, some lost their senses, piece by piece...
They seemed to have been stripped of the meaning of life by IX itself, constantly seeing their own figures in dreams and hallucinations, disappearing into a black hole at the end of the horizon.
In her experience as a researcher, she'd encountered such Self-Annihilators before.
Those who had just entered the shadow of Nihility generally showed no obvious symptoms and were no different from normal people.
Reaching that severe stage would be an irreversible, gradual process of dissolution.
A deep sadness crept into Ruan Mei's eyes, bitter and caustic.
How ironic.
Rrakavasha was dying, but because he was in the early stages of self-annihilation, his death wouldn't be too gruesome to witness.
It's clearly not your fault...
It's all my fault, it's all my fault...
The pain of stripping away memories was just like before, excruciating.
For someone whose heart had already given up, nothing mattered anymore.
While waiting for the process to complete, Rrakavasha looked up to check the progress, then took out pieces of white paper and began to write something.
One note stuck on the control panel served as a reminder not to revisit the forgotten memories.
On another, Ruan Mei couldn't make out what was written; the handwriting was too shaky.
Even after the memory erasure and sealing were completed, Rrakavasha still hadn't finished writing the last one.
Suddenly, he froze. The pen in his hand trembled violently and finally slipped from his fingertips and fell to the ground with a clatter.
"This...?"
"Why does my heart feel so painful..."
Clutching the unfinished paper, Rrakavasha returned to the window and discovered the remaining plum blossom wine on the ground. A strong urge welled up within him, primal and desperate.
Drink it.
Drink it all!
Before long, not a drop was left.
He picked up the zhongruan hanging to the side, held it in his arms like something precious, and began playing, melodies jumbled and discordant at first.
A slightly sweet and metallic taste gradually appeared in Ruan Mei's mouth as she bit her lip harder.
Drinking plum blossom wine could improve one's mood, even if one drank until they're completely wasted and unaware of their own actions.
She already understood this process; it was supposed to dispel sorrow.
But Rrakavasha's mood didn't improve at all; the strings he plucked were filled with loneliness, sorrow, and desolation, notes of pure despair.
...The effect was gone, nullified completely.
How could those who had already begun self-annihilation be affected by the special effects of plum blossom wine? IX's shadow consumed even hope itself.
He plucked the strings tirelessly until his consciousness faded and all movement ceased, collapsing against the wall.
The sky darkened with an approaching storm. Rain began to fall.
The downpour, combined with darkness, completely engulfed the bamboo house in a deep shadow.
Upon waking, Rrakavasha forgot all the past pain; the erasure was successful, and he was only puzzled by the mess on the ground around him.
Ruan Mei thought that was the end, until she saw what he'd written the night before and heard the melody he then played from those scattered notes.
That melody sounds familiar... where have I heard it?
Ruan Mei suddenly looked up, realization dawning. When she gave Rrakavasha the ruan, he'd played fragments of this melody once before.
Just once, incomplete and hesitant.
After more than a hundred years, he'd finally finished writing the lyrics to match the tune.
The lyrics and music blended seamlessly, a perfect union of sorrow.
Rrakavasha's expression unconsciously turned sorrowful, and his voice became low and yearning as he sang:
(If you wanna listen to the song instead of reading it, I made the effort to actually make it, so here you go: https://youtu.be/D9i-A58ykmk)
"As autumn deepens, the courtyard lies still,
Fallen leaves drift where silence can spill.
One lonely cup on the cold stone floor,
Waiting for someone who comes no more.
Three years of longing, no words ever said,
Hope slowly fading to sorrow instead.
At last, I surrender the waiting I knew,
And whisper farewell to dreaming of you.
A burning wine runs deep in my chest,
What more could I seek than a soul that understands best?
Yet shattered remains the heart I once knew,
Its echoes still calling for you.
Drunk in the night, I speak to the moon,
Sending my longing across the blue.
From far away, can you hear my plea,
Do you still remember me?
My obsession unresolved as the years pass by,
You walked alone beneath another sky.
Love ran so deep yet could not be known,
Like spilled water, never again my own.
When autumn fades and the long night dies,
I drink and wait as memory sighs.
An old friend's footsteps I pray to hear,
But only the wind is near.
My love endured though never confessed,
Old sorrows linger inside my chest.
I sever the waiting I once held tight,
Yet cannot escape the night.
Drunk in the night, I speak to the moon,
Sending my true heart across the gloom.
From far away, can you hear my plea,
Do you still remember me?
Knowing each other feels like a curse,
We pass as strangers, it only gets worse.
You never turn back to look behind,
Leaving my heart confined.
Deep affection unnoticed fades,
Love dissolves into empty shades.
A thousand burning cups I drain,
Yet the lost one won't remain.
Tell me, my lord, can you see this world
That drunken fate before you unfurled?
Through life and death I waited for you,
Across endless years I remained true.
Now that our hearts at last agree,
Will you stay beside me?
At last our hidden love is known,
No longer wandering alone.
From all the sorrow we passed through,
Our life begins, together, we two."
The song ended, fading into silence.
Ruan Mei was plunged into deep confusion, drowning in emotions she couldn't name.
Every word spoke of something else, yet never strayed from the same subject, her.
For the first time, she felt incomplete as a human being, fundamentally broken.
Her understanding of love might be wrong, or perhaps... not entirely wrong.
She knew the love of family and the respect between teacher and student, but she'd never understood the love that came from a student's heart, romantic love disguised as devotion.
She had no idea when Rrakavasha had developed these feelings, or when she herself had begun to reciprocate without realizing.
In a daze, her grandmother's vague words echoed deep within her memory, advice given long ago and never heeded.
"A-Ruan, companionship is the most enduring confession..."