Chapter 58: As Long as the Memory of Pain Disappears, the Pain Itself Will Follow

Chapter 58: As Long as the Memory of Pain Disappears, the Pain Itself Will Follow

Monday, late afternoon.

"Kalolin, Kalolin, wait—don’t go so fast! I really need to talk to you about something important!"

At the grand entrance of the villa, Tian Dao suddenly grabbed Kalolin’s wrist, finally stopping her from retreating back inside.

Though she had halted, Kalolin’s expression remained cold—her eyes narrowed, her posture rigid.

She wasn’t happy with Tian Dao. Not after the quiet, secretive actions he’d been taking with Chen Xing over the past few days. Unless he explained himself, she wouldn’t forgive him so easily.

Yet, beneath that icy exterior, a flicker of hope lingered—just barely visible.

She’d half-expected him to finally reveal the truth behind his and Chen Xing’s recent ‘little secret.’

But her hopes were dashed.

Tian Dao didn’t speak of secrets.

Instead, he brought up the upcoming Guardian Mission.

Back when she was still the epitome of calm and logic, any conversation unrelated to duty would have earned her a sharp rebuke—possibly even a reminder to focus more seriously.

But today… something had changed.

When she heard he’d come to talk about the mission, a strange emptiness flickered in her chest—unexpected, fleeting, but undeniably real.

Tian Dao, however, didn’t notice.

He continued, voice steady, as if nothing had shifted.

“So, Kalolin, because Lady Isabelle’s sudden whim, we’ll need to take a half-day leave from school tomorrow. We have to scout the locations she’s planning to visit ahead of time.”

“After all, both the Jellyfish Amusement Park and the Sunken Ship Restaurant are extremely crowded places.”

“If we don’t familiarize ourselves with the environments now, we won’t be able to protect her properly when she visits on Friday.”

Kalolin stared at him, face unreadable.

“Fine,” she said, voice flat. “I understand.”

She turned to walk back into the villa.

But Tian Dao, seemingly struck by another thought, called out again.

“Wait.”

Kalolin paused, glancing back with a questioning look.

Then, unexpectedly, Tian Dao brought up her Stellar Source—Quantum Ghost.

“Kalolin,” he said, “I heard from Yun Meng you’ve decided to undergo the Quantum Calculation after this mission, right? To significantly advance your Stellar Source development?”

Kalolin nodded without hesitation. She didn’t deny it.

After all, she’d only told Yun Meng about it so far. But given Tian Dao’s close relationship with Yun Meng—and their own bond—it made sense he’d found out.

Still, one thing puzzled her: Why bring this up now?

The Quantum Calculation was essentially a procedure that allowed her consciousness to enter the Supercomputing Space—a realm normally restricted to only Second-Class Intelligent Mechanism Class Stellar Envoy.

Though the process carried risks—such as emotional formatting, memory loss, or even identity fragmentation—the organization’s expertise in mechanized intelligence gave her high confidence that the risk level was minimal.

Could it be… that Tian Dao was worried about her?

The thought warmed her, just slightly.

Her icy expression softened visibly.

She tilted her head slightly, voice softer than before.

“Why bring that up, Tian Dao? What’s on your mind?”

Tian Dao opened his mouth, as if to speak.

Then, he closed it.

After a pause, he settled on a half-joking tone, the kind that masked deeper feelings.

“Nothing much. Just realized that once your consciousness enters the Supercomputing Space, we won’t be able to meet for at least a month… maybe up to three.”

“Which means, for the first few months back at base, no one’ll be there to grab my lunch for me.”

Kalolin blinked.

Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.

She looked at him, a rare playful glint in her eyes.

“Is that all you’re worried about?”

Tian Dao rubbed the back of his neck, feigning surrender.

“Fine. You caught me.”

He sighed dramatically.

“The real reason I’m worried? I won’t be able to eat Double Dessert properly anymore. That’s the actual crisis.”

Kalolin couldn’t help but laugh now—genuine, warm.

“Of course I knew you’d say that.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of it.”

“I told Yun Meng a long time ago: during the time I’m in the Supercomputing Space, all my desserts will be charged to your account.”

“So you don’t have to stress about your Double Dessert.”

“Besides,” she added, “it’s only three months at most. There’s plenty of time left. You’ll still get your sweet treats.”

Tian Dao exhaled in relief.

A wide, satisfied grin spread across his face.

“Then… I’m good.”

After reminding her not to be late tomorrow, he turned and walked into the villa ahead of her.

But in the shadow of the doorway—where Kalolin couldn’t see—his smile faded.

The mask slipped.

His expression darkened, twisted with something deeper.

The Fireworks of the Year's End plan had been his own design, his own mission.

But the longer he’d known Kalolin… the more he’d come to see her not as a tool, not as a mere asset, but as a partner, a friend, a family.

And if he could, he’d never willingly hurt them—just to gain a little more popularity.

But if things followed the original script…

Kalolin would be attacked months later by the Stellar Envoy Association.

Her computation wouldn’t be perfect.

And she’d suffer a fatal flaw: Personality Deficit.

To most Intelligent Mechanism Class Stellar Envoy, such a flaw wasn’t a weakness—it was a strength.

It stripped away emotion, leaving only cold, flawless logic.

But to Tian Dao…

What was a person without joy, sorrow, anger, or love?

Was such a being even human?

So if he wanted her computation to be flawless—perfect—then he’d have to do more than just give her time.

He’d have to feed her emotion.

Afterward, he’d need to flood her mind with intense, raw feelings—grief, longing, rage.

Only then could he counteract the Supercomputing Space’s over-rationalizing effect.

He’d preserve her humanity.

Yes, it would be painful.

But it was better than turning her into a soulless machine.

And he wouldn’t let her stay in pain forever.

Because once the memory of pain was gone…

The pain itself would vanish.

With that thought, Tian Dao paused at the door.

He took a deep breath.

And in an instant, his face transformed—back to the familiar, carefree, slightly ridiculous expression he wore so well.

The mask was back.

And no one would know the truth.

But the Dimensional Audience, watching from the side, did.

If it weren’t for the earlier flashback, they might have been fooled—just like Kalolin.

They’d have believed the joke about the Double Dessert was real.

It was in character—Tian Dao, the obsessed sweet tooth.

But now, with the memory of his past burdens layered into the moment, they saw through it.

They saw the truth.

He hadn’t said it.

He’d buried the real words again.

And that—more than anything—was what made him so beloved.

But it also made them ache.

And that ache peaked when Kalolin said, “There’s still plenty of time ahead.”

“Wait… what?”

“Sis, you’re still acting like there’s a future?”

There isn’t one—

You’re about to lose it all!

—

PS: Daily request—please continue reading, and don’t forget to cast your monthly votes!

Recommended read: “The Great Voyage: My Perfect Life” by a friend.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end