Lin Wan felt her body become lighter, as if she were about to fly. She stretched her arms and gently waved them, only to find that she could indeed fly. Just as she was filled with joy at her newfound ability, Wang Xiao suddenly disappeared without a trace. She looked around in confusion and saw a beautiful woman, strangely familiar, as if she resembled herself. The woman, puzzled, spoke softly, "Wan Wan, how did you get here?"
When Lin Wan didn't respond, the woman's face became filled with sorrow. "Don't you recognize me? I'm your mother..."
Lin Wan shook her head, murmuring, "No, I don't have a mother." She turned to fly away, but then saw another face—a woman with graying hair, deeply wrinkled. She gasped, "Grandmother?"
"Wan Wan, how did you get here?"
"Grandmother, I miss you."
"Silly child, didn't you promise me you'd live well? Why have you broken that promise?"
Her grandmother's question left Lin Wan feeling helpless. At that moment, she saw a young man appear behind her grandmother. A smile instantly appeared on her face as she called out in surprise, "Wang Xiao."
The man frowned and asked, "How did you get here?"
Why was everyone asking her the same question? Had she done something wrong? She whispered, "I wanted to go to planet B612 with you..."
The man sighed bitterly. "There's no such thing as B612. It's a fictional place."
"No, it exists. It has three volcanoes—two active and one extinct…"
"Wan Wan, stop talking. Just go back."
"Go back..." Her grandmother, and the woman who had claimed to be her mother, both repeated those same words. Soon, countless voices echoed with them, and the three figures turned and left, swallowed by the sounds.
"Don't leave." Lin Wan reached out toward the man's retreating figure, but all she touched was a mirror. The mirror shattered into countless pieces, which rained down on her like arrows. She couldn't dodge them, and in despair, she closed her eyes, waiting for death...
But strangely, there was no pain. Lin Wan opened her eyes, startled by the sight before her. She found herself in the middle of a lake, surrounded by a vast white mist, with water all around. Her arms and legs moved on their own, keeping her afloat. Desperately, she touched her face, finding it smooth and unmarked—no injuries. Was everything before just a hallucination? Was her illness finally taking its toll?
Lin Wan didn't have time to think much more. She took a deep breath. She had no idea which direction she had entered the water from, so she could only swim toward the nearest shore, guided by instinct. But after so long in the water and with her energy already drained from her earlier struggles, her limbs grew heavy, and her movements slowed. After only a short while, she was gasping for breath, and her body felt like lead. Then, she suddenly found herself unable to move forward, as though something underwater was pulling at her. Panic struck her heart—was it really a water ghost? But then she realized her right leg was tangled in water plants. She instinctively struggled, but the vines only tightened their grip.
In desperation, she remembered she should dive to untangle herself. But before she could act, another issue struck: both of her legs cramped at once. Lin Wan almost wanted to laugh at her misfortune. Was she cursed? How could she be so unlucky? She wanted to cry, because she didn't want to die, but instead, what escaped her lips was a hoarse, raspy cry for help.
The sky had brightened considerably, but all she could see was the gray atmosphere surrounding her. Lin Wan bitterly thought, "It's an overcast day—a perfect day for a tragedy to unfold." Everything around her was still and silent, not a single bird chirped. The only sound was her weak, desperate cries, but they were too faint to reach the shore.
Her body began to sink further, water filling her ears, nose, and mouth, making it harder and harder to breathe. Her internal organs ached with every breath, her limbs went stiff and numb, but instinctively, she continued to move her arms, trying to stay afloat. She now truly understood what it felt like to be close to death. Compared to all the other dangerous moments she had faced, this was the most hopeless one, because it was filled with an unbearable loneliness.
She finally understood why people, on their deathbeds, often call their family and friends to their sides—half of it is to leave behind final words, but perhaps the other half is to ensure they aren't alone when they go. People come into the world surrounded by the gaze of others, and they should also be sent off with someone to mourn them, so that their lives can feel complete.
This process felt infinitely long, amplified by the sense of isolation. Lin Wan suddenly thought, perhaps she wouldn't die from drowning but from fear itself. In order to die more peacefully, she desperately tried to think of memories to distract herself. She had originally wanted to recall the love and warmth she shared with Wang Xiao, but her memories were forcefully pulled back many years ago...
When she was nine, one day on her way home from school, an old, frail woman had stopped her. Lin Wan thought the woman might need help, so she cheerfully ran over. But the woman's first words were, "You don't have a mother, do you?"
Those four words felt like needles stabbing into her young heart. She instinctively looked around to ensure no classmates were nearby. She had been willing to follow her grandmother back to the North because she had grown tired of being called "the child without a mother." The first song she learned in kindergarten was "The Best Mother in the World," but she could only remember one line: "A child without a mother is like a weed." She didn't expect to be treated like a treasure, but she couldn't bear being looked at as if she were a weed. In this place, no one knew her secret. She had even told her classmates that her parents were busy with work, so her grandmother had to take care of her. Now she was terrified of dying—her secret was about to be exposed. Not only was she the child without a mother, but she was also a lying child. People would surely say she lacked a proper upbringing, that no one had raised her.
The old woman continued, her face filled with regret, "You're a pretty girl, but you're destined for misfortune..." But Lin Wan could hear no more.
At the time, she had run home crying all the way. Her grandmother had asked her repeatedly what happened, and when she finally told the truth, her grandmother explained that the woman was a local madwoman, always rambling nonsense, and told her not to worry. But a few days later, while Lin Wan was asleep, her grandmother had cut off a lock of her hair and, behind her back, made a paper doll and burned it. She had heard about such things—those were called "substitutes."
Thinking back on that memory now, Lin Wan felt even more sorrowful. It seemed the "substitute" had failed to stop her misfortune. Since fate had already been written, so be it. But it was a pity, dying so lonely in a foreign land, with no one to know or care, no one to claim her body, no one to mourn her, and no tears to be shed for her...
She kept thinking like this until her mind went completely blank.