Chapter 1115: The Memory Junkyard |
Setting aside how Cheng Shi was tearing his hair out in That Dream My Nightmare's labyrinth — Shadow Cheng Shi was having quite the fantastical adventure.
He'd fallen into a space he'd never seen — one that would have been unimaginable even before seeing it.
It was like a cavern — a bizarre space carpeted with crystals!
Enormous crystalline formations protruded from every corner of the cave — some long, some short, some brilliant, some dim. Even the ceiling and the ground were crystal, though in darker shades that, at a glance, could pass for rough black stone.
The place was self-luminous. Every cluster of crystals refracted shimmering light. But what glimmered across their surfaces wasn't merely physical radiance — it was also the faintest breath of [Memory].
Upon closer inspection, every crystal face — bright or dark — showed fleeting dream-like visions, like a revolving lantern. But they weren't the memories of any single individual.
Cheng Shi was thunderstruck. He stood rooted, scanning everything around him. Before long, he realized that compared to [Memory]'s Collection Hall, this place was the true "hall" of memories!
Because every inch of ground here erupted with memory. The cavern was like a misprinted history book, recording a jumbled past that stretched from the Land of Hope to the real world.
Only these fragments were chaotic, trivial, and dull. According to the elite [Memory] followers, this sort of thing wasn't worth remembering at all.
Exactly like the knowledge a teacher scrawled on a blackboard at school — seen and immediately forgotten.
He couldn't help but reflect: this was true history. What the world remembered as epic heroic history was merely spray kicked up by the vast sea of memory — visible only because the droplets had left the surface.
Yet what people always overlooked was that spray was the most insignificant part of the ocean. It was the intertwined lives of countless ordinary people that formed the so-called past of the world, gathering into this sea called memory.
Cheng Shi sank into the "world's past" and couldn't pull free. Before long, a violent wave of dizziness slammed him to his knees, retching.
His consciousness blurred. His cognition wavered. His emotions detached. When his memory became contaminated with too much foreign clutter and trivia, he began to grow confused.
No — "confused" wasn't quite right. "Stupefied" was closer. He froze. The retching motion locked in place. His entire being became dull and sluggish.
His human reason was slowly dissolving. His emotional core as a living being was evaporating thread by thread. His body began to change — crystallizing. Even though this Cheng Shi was only a shadow, crystalline veins crept across the pitch-black skin.
The real Cheng Shi suffered the same fate.
He collapsed at the labyrinth's starting point, his face covered in crystal scales. The crystallization was rapid — in an instant, his eyes, nose, and ears simultaneously turned to crystal.
But just as the crystals were about to consume his mouth, those lips somehow resisted the invasion and moved on their own, unleashing a soul-piercing roar:
"Who are you?!"
The sudden shout shattered the silence of both spaces — like a thunderclap exploding inside Cheng Shi's consciousness, jolting him out of his dazed stupor.
His body seized. Terror flooded through him. Mustering every last shred of strength, he crushed the smoke capsule in his sleeve, merging with the mist to wrench free of the crystallized state.
On the other side, once the real body was liberated, Shadow Cheng Shi clenched both fists and flexed every muscle, shattering the crystalline shell covering him entirely — reclaiming himself.
"Phew—"
The smoke hadn't yet dispersed, but Cheng Shi emerged from the mist and collapsed on the ground, spent.
Shaken by his survival after disaster, he looked up at the labyrinth walls and said, still trembling:
"I am Cheng Shi...
I am... Cheng Shi!
Thank you, Brother Mouth.
If not for you, I'd have fallen straight into [Memory]'s trap."
The Fool's Lips didn't acknowledge the sincere gratitude. Instead, they sneered sarcastically:
"Weren't you enjoying all that gossip? Why'd you stop watching?"
"..."
'Not anymore. Definitely not anymore.'
Cheng Shi's expression froze. He laughed dryly: "Nothing worth watching. Gets old after a while..."
"Oh, now you realize you watched too much? Where was your caution earlier?
And don't think I was saving you. I was saving myself."
Tch.
'A sharp tongue with a tofu heart, through and through.'
Cheng Shi knew exactly whom Brother Mouth had really been saving. But caught "in the wrong" and just rescued to boot, he wasn't in a position to argue.
So he smiled apologetically and seized the chance to ask:
"Brother Mouth, you're finally talking to me! So — where is that place?"
"What — been hanging around [Folly] followers so long you've gone stupid yourself?
You saw it with your own eyes and still can't figure it out?
Everyone says [Memory] always plucks the finest pearls from the Sea of Memory and stores them in His Collection Hall.
But have you ever wondered — where do the memories that [Memory] didn't select as collection pieces end up?"
"!!!"
Of course Cheng Shi had wondered — he'd even thought of it the instant he entered that space. He'd only asked Brother Mouth for confirmation. And now the theory was verified!
This was the dumping ground for "rejected" memories.
In other words — this was the world's Memory Junkyard!
That's why the memories here were so vast, dull, and ordinary — utterly lacking interest. They were the pasts that mortals — no, even gods — deemed unremarkable.
But unremarkable didn't mean harmless. There were simply too many crystals in this cavern, too many accumulated memories. When the sheer volume exceeded the capacity of an individual consciousness, any "rememberer" who stumbled in would be drowned by the deluge — becoming just another heap of "junk" in this memory cavern.
Cheng Shi had already tasted that terror. So now, he did his absolute best to avoid looking at the visions flickering across the crystals. Unfortunately, every surface in this space was crystallized memory. Left with no choice, he pushed deeper through the limited open paths, hoping to distract himself with navigation.
He asked as he walked: "Brother Mouth, where does this lead?"
The Fool's Lips fell silent.
Undeterred, he tried again: "Brother Mouth, did the Fun God throw me in here specifically so I'd find this place?"
The Fool's Lips still wouldn't speak.
Cheng Shi had finally found a "conversation partner" and wasn't about to let it go quiet again. Eyes rolling, he tried another question:
"Brother Mouth — you say even [Memory] scorns the memories here. Doesn't that mean these are the rejects left over from what He curates for that Existence?
So if I stand here and repeatedly chant that Being's honored name — drawing down His gaze — wouldn't that be like offering [Memory]'s rejects to Him?
If that happens, whether or not the blasphemy brings down His wrath, wouldn't [Memory] lose any chance of ever approaching Him again?
And maybe we'd even recruit a new member for the Fear Faction!
Though... this plan might be a bit costly in terms of people. Brother Mouth, do you think the Fun God could keep me alive?
You'd definitely give it your all, right? After all — saving me is saving yourself."
Before he even finished, the Fool's Lips hijacked Cheng Shi's speech, gnashing their teeth:
"You menace — have some decency!"
"?"
Cheng Shi's steps faltered. He suddenly realized that not only had Brother Mouth gained a "dad" — Li Jingming seemed to have acquired one too.
...