Chapter 39: Countdown (Part 2)

January 17, 2074, 23:00

One hour remains until Little Lola's birthday ends.

"Sister? Let's go."

An Xianyuan stood still; the little girl's several tugs failed to wake her from her reverie.

"Sister?"

"It's going to rain..."

An Xianyuan trembled as she whispered, her eyes lowered into the dim shadows where the light could not reach, dazed and bewildered.

A violent storm swept in from the distant horizon, answering her foretold prophecy.

Cold air and dampness seeped in from all directions; even the ample heating of the high-end mall could not drive them away completely.

"It's alright... Sister." Lola clutched the woman's cold hand tightly, offering quiet comfort.

Those who face destiny are always brave.

"There's still an hour, isn't there? Wait a little longer..." An Xianyuan stood in place, her cybernetic eye flashing red continuously in the darkness.

She spoke facing Lola, yet she was making a request to the demons of hell.

"We've played enough, haven't we?" The male voice beside her carried a faint impatience, hot emotions like silent, flowing magma.

An Xianyuan hung up the phone, gazing blankly out the window at the grand symphony of wind and rain playing in concert, lost in a trance.

The little girl kept holding An Xianyuan's hand tightly, trying to warm the chilling cold radiating from within her heart.

"Lola, accompany Sister to one last place, okay?" This was the first and last time she made a request to the little girl.

"Okay."

Lola merely smiled lightly, taking the initiative to wrap her arm around An Xianyuan's arm, obediently following her steps.

"A photo studio?"

After just a few minutes, they arrived at their destination.

Lola asked with some surprise, her dormant heart rising to the surface again along with her curiosity.

An Xianyuan was a nostalgic person; her few hobbies were all so obscure and old-fashioned.

"Taking photos" was truly a distant term for people living in 2074.

Recording Braindances, taking cybernetic eye screenshots, visual sharing, and so on—there were far too many more advanced methods to replace the function of that thin photograph.

But An Xianyuan liked it, just as she was willing to sacrifice everything to piece together a final beauty for Lola, asking no logic, making no sense.

"Yes, the photo studio... let's take a picture together."

An Xianyuan extended both arms, hugging the somewhat bewildered little girl tightly from behind.

Heart pressed close to heart could dispel the cold that heating systems could not drive away.

"Why does Sister like taking photos?" Lola asked curiously; the gradually shortening length of her life seemed to bring her no influence whatsoever.

"With this thin photograph, I can scoop a ladle of water from the rushing river of time..."

An Xianyuan held Lola's small hand, strolling through the corridor of the shop lined with photographs, weaving through them until they reached the end of the corridor, where she finally stopped.

"This is the key I use for time travel... with it, I will not forget you, Lola."

While directing the shop assistant to prepare, An Xianyuan stroked the girl's jet-black long hair, her eyes staring straight into Lola's pair of sparkling emerald gems.

Only then did she realize belatedly that perhaps she would need a lifetime to forget those beautiful green eyes.

"Sister..."

Lola lay in the woman's arms, her eyes bright red.

The tender young girl, just turned eighteen, finally removed all her thick armor.

She trembled, she wept; a reservoir opened its gates upstream of that emerald lake, and everything poured out.

"Lola..."

Gently patting the little girl's slender back, An Xianyuan comforted her in a soft voice, yet her own voice trembled along with it.

They embraced each other with abandon.

Until someone looked up, glanced at the electronic clock hanging on the wall, and sighed softly.

"Stop crying... put on some makeup, let's take a picture together." An Xianyuan gently kissed away the streaked tear stains from the girl's eyes with her lips.

"Mm..."

Lola nodded obediently, allowing the shop's most professional makeup artist to apply the first stroke of makeup to her small face.

Half an hour remained.

Facing the mirror, An Xianyuan looked at the finished makeup on her face and let out a sigh of relief.

Half an hour remained.

She took Lola's hand, stood up together, walked out of the makeup room, and stepped side by side into the shooting studio.

An Xianyuan wore a gown of raging fire, Lola draped in a cloak of bright moonlight; they stood side by side, hand in hand, leaving their most brilliant smiles before the highest-grade lens in Night City.

January 17, 2074, 24:00

The death knell rang out; they boarded a Floating Car heading to hell.

An Xianyuan pulled the small Lola tightly into her embrace.

"Sister, do you believe in God?"

The little girl in her arms spoke softly, asking.

"I do not."

She answered with absolute certainty.

If God truly existed in this world, how could He sit idly by while this tragedy occurred?

The music player in the car turned on; an old song from a century ago volunteered to articulate their unspeakable feelings for them.

"It doesn't hurt me..."

"Do you want to feel how it feels..."

Amidst the clamor of howling wind and whistling rain outside, someone joined the song, humming and singing softly along.

"And if I only could..."

"I'd make a deal with God..."

"And I'd get Him to swap our places..."

The impassioned music linked with two burning hearts, together fueling a silent fire, riding the waves amidst the increasingly grand symphony of wind and rain.

"Laura... don't be afraid..."

They held each other tightly, as if only then could they gather all of each other's strength into one.

"Sister, we've arrived."

Laura spoke softly.

The Floating Car, the wind, the rain, the music—all ceased their sounds at that moment.

They gazed at each other one last time.

"Mm..."

An Xianyuan responded in a low voice, pushed open the car door, took Laura's hand, and slowly stepped out of the vehicle.

The wind and rain began to roar again.

An Xianyuan stood in place and let go of her hand.

She watched the girl, whose hair was scattered with moonlight, walk alone, step by step, toward death.

They did not say goodbye.

The Zhang Group employees who had come to pick them up bowed in unison, saying, "Miss An, you've worked hard."

Zhang Xian'an also came forward with a smile.

Standing beside the tarmac, she only felt they were noisy.

Behind her, the furious gale and sudden rain let out unwilling roars.

An Xianyuan clutched a photograph in her hand, staring blankly in the direction Laura had left, as if her soul had departed with her.

"An Xianyuan?"

A deep male voice attempted to wake her.

She lowered her head, her eyes silent as death.

She turned around, facing away from everyone, and sat on the edge of the tarmac.

"I want to smoke," she said, her voice unusually hoarse.

Thus, an exquisite cigarette pack was handed to her from behind.

She snatched it up like an addicted smoker.

This was her first time smoking.

Facing the wind and rain, she lit one cigarette after another.

Coughing, she silently felt her fragile lungs emit painful cries again and again.

Looking at the two blooming flowers in the photograph, she pressed her hand hard against her chest.

Mist exhaled again and again concealed her entire expression.

She sat on the cold ground like this until dawn.

"Failure..."

"Dissection..."

"Drug efficacy..."

Countless fierce ghosts shrieked in her ears.

She dropped the expensive cigarette pack from high in the air.

Sitting amidst the clouds, wearing a red dress, hugging her knees, curled into a ball, she looked like a cluster of fire about to extinguish.

"Sister?"

In the blur, she seemed to hear a familiar voice.

An Xianyuan turned her head sharply.

A tear fell to the ground, blooming into a flower.