Chapter 336: The Road Back Is Hard (Part 2)

Is this... Aunt Emma's mother's voice?

After sensing the tidal wave of anguish within Emma through their clasped hands, Li Ang, regardless of whether it might pierce her heart, softly reminded her:

"Aunt Emma, no matter what you hear, it isn't true. There are no family members behind us—only by moving forward can we reach your daughter."

"I… yes…"

After hearing Li Ang's reminder, pale-faced Emma nodded slightly, then followed the tug of his hand and stepped for the third time into his memories, where she saw a little girl, covered in dirt, her arms slashed with blood from tree branches, yet smiling brightly as she offered her a nest of bird eggs.

A warmth that pierced straight to her core seeped quietly into Emma's heart through Mei Lan Ni's mischievous smile; though it couldn't melt the remorse surging within her, it steadied her heart slightly.

The blood-curdling cries behind her still each time cut her heart like knives, but with every step onto the white tiles, Li Ang's family's poor yet tender memories became a warm hand—not only gently cradling her heart, but repeatedly tying back the fraying threads of her sanity, giving her the courage to take another step.

In contrast, Li Ang, holding her hand, heard through their linked souls the endless sighs of sorrow and the torrent of angry curses echoing from behind her.

"Sister Emma, I loved you so much—why did you betray me?"

"You're a traitor of the Bao Hua clan! If you hadn't leaked the news, would we have died?"

"Traitor! How can you still have the face to live?"

"I'm ashamed to have had a daughter like you."

"If you still know what shame is, turn around and look—see how we died!"

"Go away. Don't come back to disgust us!"

"The last Bao Hua—fine. Live with this disgrace."

"Emma, six years—just turn around once, let me see your face again, please?"

Even with Emma's soul as a barrier, only fragments of these words reached him, yet the bitterness and resentment within them pierced sharper than countless tiny knives.

The quiet sighs of disappointment from Emma's direct relatives, buried among the curses and condemnations, sent icy chills through Li Ang's heart.

After learning that Aunt Emma was "the last Bao Hua," he had deliberately dug through old newspapers and vaguely learned what had happened over six years ago.

Six years ago, during the War of National Defense, the Bao Hua clan launched a coup while allegedly colluding with the invading Ice Plain Kingdom of Aixito. Some even claimed the invasion itself had been instigated by the Bao Hua clan.

Because this information was leaked in advance, the Bao Hua clan was forced into a hasty coup; the royal family, sensing the crisis, responded with the harshest executions, reducing the once-equal Bao Hua Alman to only two survivors: Aunt Emma and her daughter.

If the leak truly came from Aunt Emma, then given her nature, she must have been tormented by guilt every single day for these six years—and hearing her clan's curses and family's sighs, it would be nearly impossible not to turn back.

Also, the recent clash between the Director and her seemed to carry deeper meaning.

Though neither spoke plainly, from their words, it seemed Aunt Emma intended to do something, while the Director wished to stop her—trying to force her to abandon it by pushing her toward the "path of no return."

So what was it that Aunt Emma, driven by guilt or remorse, insisted on doing—and what was the Director trying so hard to prevent?

…

"Li Ang?"

Sensing Li Ang's thoughts growing increasingly chaotic through their clasped hands, Emma's heart trembled slightly, then flooded with deep guilt.

All she needed to do was wait for Li Ang to step on the white tiles, and she could safely cross the Memory Bridge, protected by his beautiful memories—yet he had to face his own pain over and over again.

When encountering consecutive black tiles, he had to keep retreating, testing again and again until a safe white tile appeared.

And it seemed their luck was poor: as they advanced, the number of times Li Ang had to test increased, until he sometimes needed to step on three or four black tiles before finding a single white one.

From the moment they stepped onto the bridge until now, she had taken over sixty steps, while Li Ang had stepped on over a hundred black tiles—proving he had relived over a hundred painful memories.

At this moment, it should have been her, as the senior, standing ahead to shield him—but because of her weakness and hesitation, she could only let him bear it all, forcing him to relive his most painful experiences again and again. This was utterly wrong.

"Let's walk together."

After gently tugging Li Ang's hand, Emma—who had seen nearly all of his beautiful life—proposed softly, her voice like water:

"Li Ang, you don't need to scout for me anymore. I think I can now…"

"No."

Hearing the still-sharp words ringing in his ears, Li Ang refused without hesitation:

"Don't pretend you're strong! I can feel your soul's state—you've only stabilized slightly. If those memories trigger you, I don't think you can hold on!"

Tell me not to pretend I'm strong—but aren't you doing the same?

After biting her lip slightly, Emma whispered:

"How about this: you still step on the tiles for me and share your memories, but don't search for white tiles anymore—let me step on the black ones too!

Since these tiles were stepped on by you, most of what I see in the memories are yours; only a few fragments of my own will appear. I think I can handle it!"

"Alright…"

After sensing Aunt Emma's soul and confirming she wasn't pretending but truly had confidence, and seeing the end of the black-and-white bridge, Li Ang nodded slightly, shifted his foot aside, and revealed a corner of the black tile beneath him.

Noticing Li Ang's movement, Emma quietly drew in a breath, then lifted her foot and stepped onto his painful memories.

"Brother."

The familiar slender girl appeared again before Emma, but this time Anna's expression wasn't the tender, joyful gaze she once held toward "her"—it was calm, with a faint trace of regret.

After a brief silence, the pale girl on the bed turned her head slightly, her voice as frail as if it might vanish at any moment, yet stubbornly insistent:

"Why not just… leave me alone?"