Clarice tilted her head and found a rare look of bewilderment on his face.
She couldn't help but feel surprised and waited quietly.
After a long while, Qi Zhimu finally spoke to elaborate on his thoughts.
"Perhaps there is no standard way to understand this sentence."
"If I had to give an answer, I think: the meaning of life isn't about finding the way out of the labyrinth, but about collecting those moments worth remembering during the detours."
"In the inevitability that everything will eventually pass away, Remembrance is the only thing we can take with us, and it is also the gentlest resistance people have against nothingness."
Clarice fell into deep thought.
She felt that the answer given by Mr. Qi didn't suit her.
Perhaps it was because... Mr. Qi's understanding leaned more toward pessimism?
When life fades away, doesn't the Remembrance taken with it also fade away?
Doesn't one still end up with nothing?
"Don't dwell on it too much; some questions naturally have multiple solutions."
"Life eventually heads toward death. What path to take along the way is a choice everyone makes for themselves."
"Let me tell you a short story I happened to read in a book."
Qi Zhimu recalled for a moment and spoke eloquently:
"A young couple was facing a final parting; the husband suffered from a terminal illness and didn't have much time left."
"Before he died, he handed a bracelet he had woven himself to his wife and said—"
"'After I die, let this accompany you for the rest of your life. When you think of me because of it, I will have lived once more through you.'"
"What a romantic story..." Clarice sighed with emotion.
"Romance is one direction of interpretation, but my direction... is cruelty."
Qi Zhimu said.
"...Cru... Cruelty?" Clarice looked surprised.
"After a person dies, nothing of themselves remains, except for Remembrance. Because you might still exist in the memories of others."
Qi Zhimu's tone was very light, carrying an ethereal quality.
"Hmm... is there something wrong with that?" Clarice was puzzled.
Qi Zhimu said softly, "The deceased return to the dust, and the living must eventually say goodbye to the past and look forward. There is no problem with the husband giving his wife the bracelet itself, but—"
"That sentence of his unintentionally imprisoned his wife in memories of the past, and the bracelet became a shackle."
"Dead is dead. Why make the person you love most unable to let go of you?"
"Letting go or not is the right of the living, not something to be controlled by the dying."
"For the husband to let go of everything and ensure his wife doesn't live in past memories might actually be the deepest affection and love he could leave her before going."
...So this is Mr. Qi's interpretation... Clarice's lips moved slightly. She felt that after his voice fell, a wisp of sorrow had quietly blended into the atmosphere.
She felt that Mr. Qi was a bit... pessimistic?
Was it because he studied medicine?
Every time he treated a critically ill patient, he had to maintain a mindset that the worst outcome could happen while doing his utmost to pull a life back from the River Styx.
Over time, he developed this way of looking at everything... right?
Otherwise, she really couldn't understand how Mr. Qi, who was as gentle as the winter sun, could be a pessimist.
"But... isn't it also cruel to make the wife let go? After all, they deeply loved each other..."
"Maintaining silence with a smile, or a simple goodbye, wouldn't be cruel."
"Facing a life-and-death parting, it's probably very difficult for a soul still attached to the world to be so open-minded," Clarice remarked.
"Haha... that is the choice everyone has to face."
Qi Zhimu chuckled, catching Little Orange as it crashed into his arms, and lightly scratched its chin.
"And that is where the meaning lies—to see what kind of meaning a life tends to bestow."
Hearing these words, a flash of complexity crossed Clarice's heart.
"...Mr. Qi, if I were about to die, would you be willing to remember me as much as possible?"
"Naturally, I would."
"And the reason?"
"No reason is needed."
"But I want to know... please?~~" Clarice used her ultimate weapon—acting spoiled—her voice sweet and soft.
If her classmates saw this scene, their jaws would probably drop in shock.
That eccentric girl who never made friends and was no different from being isolated actually had such a girlish side?
Qi Zhimu gave a helpless smile. "Because Clarice is grounded, determined, filial, and knows how to be grateful. Hmm... and also very cute, beautiful, and graceful."
The last part was an afterthought he added on the fly.
Compared to character traits, perhaps a young girl would prefer being praised for being cute, beautiful, and having a natural, easy manner.
Seeing the girl's face turn slightly red, Qi Zhimu knew he had praised her correctly.
"...If it were Mr. Qi... never mind, it's nothing."
Clarice realized it was inappropriate to ask that. She suppressed her curiosity and immediately dropped the thought.
One shouldn't use someone else's life and death to frame a 'what if' scenario.
"You wanted to ask if I were about to die, would I want to be remembered by others, by certain people, or by a specific person, right?"
"...Mr. Qi saw through me again... Yes, please forgive my rudeness."
"It's not really rude. The interpretation of that short story I just told is the answer."
"...Oh..."
Clarice didn't catch the faint melancholy in Qi Zhimu's tone and subconsciously rubbed her eyes.
Confirming she wasn't seeing things, her expression turned to shock.
Mr. Qi was clearly sitting right next to her, so why were there several phantoms of him in the medical room?
Moreover, she could understand what the phantoms were doing.
"Mr. Qi... you... you..."
"What's wrong?" Qi Zhimu was puzzled.
Clarice hesitated to speak.
After much hesitation, she still didn't mention the phantoms she saw, but instead asked in a low voice.
"In order to cure my mother's amnesia, have you... always been the human subject yourself?"
"...Girl, you—"
Qi Zhimu was slightly startled and instinctively wanted to deny it.
But meeting those trembling eyes that were as bright as the starry sky, he gave a silent admission.
"How did you guess?"
"Because Mr. Qi is a shut-in who never socializes. I've never seen you leave these deep mountains, so where would volunteers come from...?"
Clarice gave a somewhat forced smile and instinctively turned her head, avoiding Qi Zhimu's gaze.
She was afraid she wouldn't be able to hide her moistening eyes.
It wasn't a guess... it was... because I saw it with my own eyes, Mr. Qi... Even if she didn't understand medicine, she knew that every difficult disease overcome required the immense effort and sacrifice of both the doctor and clinical volunteers.
Mr. Qi had taken it all upon himself alone!
Clarice knew even better that clinical trials always came with risks.
Especially for memory-related conditions; if an accident occurred, Mr. Qi's own memories would have problems.
The kindness she had received from him was already more than she could ever repay.