Silent Ark

Chapter 43: Heart Imprint

The original version of "Yao Chong" extends his hand.

It is not energy transfer.

It's not a consecration ceremony.

It is not any kind of transmission technique.

He simply reached out and touched Yao Chong's chest.

Like a stamp.

Yao Chong felt as if something had been placed over his consciousness.

It's not a feeling of something foreign—it's a feeling of confirmation.

Like someone stamping a document, that document becomes legally binding.

"This is the seal of the heart."

"What can I do?"

"Stay, and take this small piece of reality out into the world. In the area you choose, the laws of physics will return to their true nature—not as Eden or as they should be."

"And what's the price?"

silence.

"With each passing moment of your memory, you lose a piece of it. It's not random—it's the most precious one."

Why?

"Because reality has weight. When you bring a piece of reality into a virtual universe, you need to exchange it for something of equal weight. In your consciousness, the most precious things are the heaviest."

"Can I not give it to you?"

"Yes, there's no cost to not staying. But the laws of physics outside will continue to decay. The water stains will continue to shrink. Your people will continue to be exposed to the sovereign entity's influence."

"..."

"I won't choose for you."

Yao Chong stepped out of his inner world.

We passed through the water-film-like rock walls and returned to the cave.

The sensory world fades away layer by layer—time returns to linearity, gravity returns to direction, light returns to propagation, and sound returns to its medium.

He stood in the cave.

The flashlight beam illuminated the rock face normally.

Everything returned to normal.

He subconsciously tried to recall the scene he had just seen in his inner world—the path the light had followed around his finger.

He remembered this scene.

But the details are blurred.

Like a photograph that has been soaked in water, the outline is still there, but the colors are fading.

He thought he was just too tired.

Then he remembered Chen Dunli.

The Tenth Night.

Before Chen Dunli collapsed.

He said that "the observer is also part of the system."

Yao Chong remembered those words.

I remember Chen Dunli's mouth was moving.

I remember there was some sound in the background—

Is that an alarm?

Is that the sound of the wind?

He doesn't remember.

He couldn't remember the tone of Chen Dunli's voice when he said those words.

Is it calm?

Is it regrettable?

Was it with a smile?

Is it anger?

He knew there was tone to it.

It's impossible for a person to speak without intonation.

But he couldn't remember what tone of voice it was.

It's like a song you know very well; you remember the melody, but you can't recall the singer's voice.

He didn't pay attention.

He felt it was a stress response—the memories of the Decameron were already somewhat hazy.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the cave entrance.

Yao Chong stepped out of the cave.

Wukong was still squatting on that rock.

The posture remained unchanged.

The golden cudgel rests horizontally on his knee.

But Yao Chong noticed that Wukong's eyes reddened slightly.

Just for a moment.

Then it returned to normal.

Wukong stood up and dusted off his pants.

"You little brat, you saw that?"

"Um."

Wukong glanced at him.

It wasn't a scan with eagle eyes—it was just a normal look.

It's like looking at someone who has just come out of the water.

"Your teacher, Chen Dunli, also came here."

"I know he left something."

"He chose a different path."

"I know."

Wukong remained silent for a while.

"You're different from him; you chose this path."

This is not an evaluation.

It is a statement.

"...I don't feel like I made any choices," Yao Chong said. "I was brought here, activated, and stamped."

Wukong chuckled.

"Do you think I chose to learn the 72 Transformations back then? I was just a monkey that sprang from a stone back then. What did I know about choosing? I only knew that the 72 Transformations were more than the 36 Transformations."

He paused for a moment.

"But later—on the journey to the West, I walked every step by myself. No one forced me. The golden headband was on my head, but I could have chosen not to go. That time, when my master wronged me, I decided not to go. Later, I went back and killed the guy who was impersonating me. I left because I wanted to reach the end and see what it was all about."

He looked at Yao Chong.

"It's not your fault that you were brought here, but every step you take from here on out is entirely your own."

On the way back, Yao Chong walked for about ten minutes.

He suddenly stopped.

He wanted to recall the scene of his first meeting with Chen Dunli—the graduate school entrance interview.

He remembered that Chen Dunli asked him a question.

He answered.

Chen Dunli smiled.

But he couldn't remember what Chen Dunli looked like when he smiled.

He remembered the fact that he "smiled".

But the image of a smile—the angle of the corners of the mouth, the curve of the eyes, the direction of the wrinkles—has faded.

Like a color photograph slowly turning into black and white.

He looked down at his hands.

My hand is still there.

The shadow is still there.

But the shadow was a little fainter than yesterday.

He didn't tell Wukong.

On the way back, Wukong was less talkative.

On the way here, he kept babbling on and on—"Golden headband, Victorious Fighting Buddha, don't believe in any god."

On the way back, I barely spoke, occasionally kicking a pebble or looking up at the sky.

Yao Chong didn't say anything either.

He is processing everything in his inner world.

At the same time—though he was unaware of it—his memory was slipping away at an extremely slow rate.

It's not a large chunk of forgetting.

It's the blurring of the edges.

Like the edges of a photograph starting to turn white.

After walking for about half an hour, Wukong suddenly stopped.

"You go back first."

"And you?"

Wukong did not answer.

He turned and walked toward the cave.

After taking three steps, I stopped.

He didn't turn around.

"Some debts have been outstanding for thousands of years."

The tone was very soft.

It's not a feeling of heaviness—it's the relief of finally having to face something.

It's like someone who has been standing at the door for a long time, finally reaching out to knock.

"...Should I wait?"

Wukong turned around and glanced at him.

"Need not."

He paused for a moment.

"But if you're willing to wait... that's fine too."

Yao Chong found a rock and sat down.

He closed his eyes.

After the mind imprint was activated, he became more sensitive to anomalies in the laws of physics.

It's not visual—the visual pollution disappeared after The Decameron.

It's intuitive.

A vague perception that "the air doesn't feel right".

Extremely faint physical fluctuations were coming from the direction of the cave.

It's not about confrontation.

Confrontation is when two forces cancel each other out, like two waves meeting and their amplitude returning to zero.

It's a test.

The two forces are touching each other, retreating, and then touching each other again.

It's like two people reaching out to shake hands, then pulling back, then reaching out again.

Yao Chong sat on the rock, his eyes closed, feeling the rhythm of the two waves.

Then—overlay.

The two waves are now in sync.

The amplitudes did not cancel each other out, but rather superimposed and amplified each other.

Like two stars leaning together, the light becomes brighter.

Yao Chong opened his eyes.

The direction of the cave hasn't changed at all.

But he knew—

All right.

He didn't know what "okay" specifically meant.

But he knew that the two forces would no longer test him.

They found a common frequency.