"I have to think about whether it is right to let you take power." Kardashian frowned, "Why do you think so?"
"You and him..." The old man paused, "Do you know how low the chance of you and him having a child is?"
"How long has he lived? How long has he been undergoing that technique? You know that he is no longer a human being to a certain extent. The reason why I opposed your union in the first place was because I was afraid that nothing would work out between you!"
"I'm more willful." said the woman.
"You are more willful! Your mother convinced me about this matter, and I agreed! The birth of Aisuen is a surprise... and now you still want to continue to be willful!"
"…I can do his job."
"How do you do it? His job is to keep hope alive after we're all dead! You'll all be dead then! How do you do his job?"
The woman bit her lips hard, and puffed up her cheeks as if she was angry.
“Don’t be willful, Mansoura.” The old man was still persuading her, “I know you don’t want him to be exposed to secrets, don’t want him to be a keeper of secrets, and think these things are too stressful, but this is our fate.”
"Who gave him the last name Hitzfeld?"
"He has the blood of the Secret Keeper in his body. This is his destiny. Whether you like it or not, he cannot escape this fate. All you can do is assist and encourage him."
"Or do you want that day to come when they find him as a mortal after slaughtering the manor with blood, and you can only regret everything in despair before you die?"
"Okay..." The woman interrupted the old man unbearably, "Alright... That's enough! I get it!"
"And what's your answer?"
"I accept." The woman nodded, "but I have to make all the details."
"Not only about the city, school, and living environment he will go to when he grows up, but also about when he will return, and the power and protection that Ruoyin will give him."
Then Hitzfeld saw the woman lean over to Kardashian's ear and whisper something to her.
"…Are you sure you want to arrange it this way?"
Kardashian looked at her in surprise after hearing this.
"Of course you can... But if you do this, you won't be able to recognize each other until he accepts everything... Are you sure you want to arrange it this way?"
"The reason for this step is to prevent us all from dying. Isn't that what you said?" The woman smiled.
"I thought if it really came to that, it would be better for her not to know me..."
"It won't be sad if you don't know me."
"It won't hurt so much."
Hitzfeld clenched his fists and at this moment had to half open his mouth to breathe deeply.
The ripples spread out and returned to the bedroom where the woman was resting.
She was wearing thin pajamas and glasses, sitting in a rattan chair knitting a sweater.
The small sweater was obviously for a child. But the small bed next to it was empty. Although the bedroom was filled with decorations, it looked a bit empty.
"If you don't love someone, you won't be sad. I learned this from you..."
Perhaps she was tired, the woman stopped and exhaled, looking at the starry sky outside the window while murmuring, it was obvious that she was missing someone.
"When I approached you, you used this excuse to reject me."
"I thought that was actually cowardice, laughing at you for not knowing how to enjoy life, but in the end I was the most cowardly one..."
"You finally had the courage to hug me, but now I don't dare to hug him."
"Laurel?"
There was a knock on the door outside.
"Who are you talking to?"
"No!" the woman quickly defended herself, "I was reciting opera lines! You know... I like this very much!"
The people outside the door laughed. This was not surprising. After all, in this closed manor, who didn’t like opera performances?
"Aisun will be back soon," the other person said, "Grandma and the others went to pick him up personally... It's his sixth birthday, why don't you go and see him?"
"Then I will immediately..."
The woman stood up with her eyes wide open, then suddenly stopped, looked in the mirror, and then looked at the small sweater in her hand.
"I won't go." She walked forward, opened the door, and said to her relatives and friends outside.
"I'll catch up here for a bit... Remember to come back later and bring this down to her... Just say you knitted it."
"Eh? This isn't good..."
"There's nothing wrong with that, just do it!"
"Okay... you still like to play all kinds of tricks..."
Hitzfeld remained silent.
She could see clearly that the person at the door was Anila Hitzfeld, who claimed to be her Aunt Anila, who loved to hold her when she was little and gave her presents every year on her birthday and non-birthdays.
Sometimes it's a book, sometimes it's a toy, and sometimes it's a strange glass bottle.
But there will always be a sweater that she grew up with.
She didn’t understand… Was this really an illusion?
If this is an illusion, why do my eyes feel sore and my heart aches?
Maybe she shouldn't be sad, she should be happy, because it was this sourness and pain that proved that this was reality, that this was not a dream and she would soon see the figure in her dream.
But why is it reality...
Because it is real, I can see her.
And because it is reality…it is just a memory.
The changes in the ripples were like a photo album reflected in the water, with yellowed pages and memories. She saw a woman waking up in a person's bedroom in the middle of the night, habitually looking at the small bed before lying down; she watched and listened to her saying her name in her dream, and even watched her former self walking in the manor through a third-party perspective. An old woman held his hand and accompanied him, but the woman could only hide behind the curtains, looking at him cautiously.
Hitzfeld didn't understand why she could be so smart and foresighted?
She went against all odds and ignored all opposition, just as her eyes could transcend the scale of time and see the blood falling from the curtains in the future.
Yes.
Lengdis also said that she had her own opinions and that she was a person who was hard to understand.
But at this moment she was being real, and Hitzfeld sincerely hoped that she wouldn't be like this.
Because then they wouldn't be so strange.
They were so close to each other, yet they were a world apart. Now, they had to add the boundaries between the past and the future, life and death. She really didn't know what the point of doing this was.
Obviously I would know this...
You obviously couldn't let me go in the end, and at the last moment, when you were about to merge into the mother tree, you left me such a gift...
Why did you hide it in the beginning...
What exactly is different here!
Suddenly, anger arose from my trembling heart.
Hitzfeld no longer felt the cold, she quickened her pace, and ran towards the figure with a certain resentment.
The resentment was like a great symphony, and she could feel every horn and every piano longing to make a sound - to make its own sound to her.
She wanted to know clearly why she was so cruel, why she had to bear everything on her side, and why she had to make such a plan in the first place.
Her steps were a bit too big.
The scale of time is measured by footsteps, and one step seems to be a year.
She thought she had seen enough of what happened in the past and was powerless to stop it. She believed that no matter how sad and upset she was, it was meaningless.
But not until she saw the flames clearly.
Take a look at the dead silent manor.
Look at the blood and corpses on the ground.
See clearly yourself walking towards the western-style mansion, see clearly the opened wooden box, and the sealed divine eye.
She couldn't help but slow down her pace, and finally stopped.
She couldn't help but stare at the approaching reflection.
The reflection held a bloody knife in her hand. She saw her lifting the unconscious child up, and slowly, bit by bit, cutting off her face and weaving it into a charred collar.
"I'm glad I guessed right."
She heard her say.
"I know he will hate me, hate the goddess, and hate that world."
“But I’m still going to do it.”
"Forgive me for hiding everything from you at first, but I thought that was the only way to keep you pure."
"A pure heart and a pure soul, only these can fight against evil."
"Don't blame your father, he is more pitiful than me."
"------"
The string of anger broke directly.
The horn was broken and the harp was ruined.
Hitzfeld suddenly realized that the answer had already been told to her.
If I had known everything at the beginning, what would I have thought the moment Namya opened her eyes?
...I'm afraid I will become another Lengdis, because some people begin to hate fate and God after their death, and want revenge or get something back like crazy.
So that's the reason.
She is not just...
It's not just that I don't want to make me sad...
Endless light flickered in the manor, and the flames purified and refined everything, erasing all traces of the manor on the scale of time and space. From then on, there was no more Secret Keeper family on Earth, and its continued fate fell upon the fire.
Footsteps came from the front.
Hitzfeld didn't dare to look up, but he could still see clearly that someone was coming, and the reflection overlapped with the woman in the ripples.
She looked up suddenly and saw a gentle woman with loose hair and a cunning smile standing in front of her.
What should I do now?
Hitzfeld stiffened.
She didn't know what to do or what to say.
Obviously, she already knew a lot of things. Obviously, she already knew that the face imprinted in the icy lake and the face imprinted in the aurora were now worn around her neck. She didn't dare to have any more delusions.
After all, this was their first meeting in the strict sense.
But the other party didn't care what she thought.
She didn't need to do anything, nor did she need to say anything. Somewhat arrogant and rude, the girl felt her footsteps rushing towards her without stopping, and opened her arms to hold her in her arms.
"Thank you, goddess, for letting me see you again..."
"Becoming a girl... Is this really the side effect of the Upside-Down Coffin? I did foresee this happening, but I didn't expect you to become like this..."
"Oh! That's a bit self-deprecating... After all, you are my daughter, Mansoura Laurel Vera Hitzfeld... What's wrong with being pretty? It's natural for you to be pretty!"
"You know I'm just your mother's memory, right? But it doesn't matter... Even if it's just a memory... I want to see you here again..."
"Aisun...Aisun..."
She has the same lively personality as the one in the Ripple picture, is a bit narcissistic, doesn’t consider other people’s thoughts, and likes to talk to herself.
But even Mansoura Laurel Vera Hitzfeld couldn't continue speaking at the end.
The boundary between life and death is too far.
Beyond space, beyond time, farther than the distance from Earth at one end of the universe to Namibia at this end.
She knew that perhaps the goddess who controlled the kingdom of God would come to the earth one day. One day, all this would end, justice would defeat evil, love would defeat corruption, the sun would rise normally on the seventh day, and her children and her children's children would live freely in the new world and live the life she once dreamed of.
But she couldn't see it.
