The Most Beloved

When Sonia went to answer the question, everyone leaned in to look, and Denzel was no exception. Then they all glanced at the hooded figure in the painting, and back at Yaxiu. "Isn't this just you?" "Yeah, I think it's me too," Yaxiu said. "Which means the answer to this question definitely isn't this one." Even though Sonia thought so as well, she couldn't understand Yaxiu's confidence. "Why are you so certain?" "Because she asked who your 'most beloved' is," Yaxiu explained. "Putting me aside for a moment, what kind of relationship do you think the other two in the paintings have with Lover?" The others hesitated for a beat before realizing that the 'Lover' Yaxiu referred to was Sonia. Diya looked toward the middle-aged peasant woman and guessed, "Could this be Lover's—Sonia's—mother?" "It could also be a foster mother, teacher, aunt, and so forth," Denzel added. "Regardless of her exact identity, judging by her age, she likely raised Lover." Sonia nodded. "Even though I have no memories, she feels very familiar and dear to me. In all likelihood, she's an elder of mine." Yaxiu nodded slightly in agreement with their views, pointing at the scrawny, sun-darkened little girl in the painting. "What about her, then?" Denzel guessed, "A daughter?" Sonia frowned slightly. "Could she be my younger sister?" "Stop arguing!" While they were discussing, a hysterical shriek suddenly rang out from the side. Diya doubled over in pain, pummeling her head hard with her fists as her slightly purified hair began to muddy once more. "Stop arguing, stop it, stop it, stop it! Don't argue inside my head!" Her scolding carried the choke of tears. The only reason Diya had managed to stay calm earlier was that Yaxiu had commanded her attention, reeling off a barrage of hard-to-disprove deductions that kept her and her sisters busy digesting information, leaving them with no bandwidth to think of anything else. The moment Yaxiu stopped occupying her attention, those sisters grew restless, like unruly children freed from parental supervision. What began as simple speculation about the identity of the little girl in the painting quickly evolved into a discussion, escalated into a debate, and ultimately erupted into an unbearable brawl inside Diya's mind. "Bite." Diya felt something shoved into her mouth and instinctively bit down hard. As the tactile sensation of biting down reverberated through her body, the scream jammed in her throat was slowly swallowed back. The crushing pressure gradually vented as her teeth clenched, and even the quarreling voices of the sisters quieted down. Only then did Diya realize she was biting Yaxiu's hand. She hastily let go and blew on the spot. "S-Sorry, I—" "It's fine, it doesn't hurt," Yaxiu said. "Look, there isn't even a mark. Don't worry about it... This really is a marvelous place. "Suffering is just like drowning. The harder you thrash, the more water you choke on, and the more painful it gets. The proper way to save yourself is to stay still and let someone else pull you out. Whenever you feel uncomfortable, just bite my hand." Diya held onto Yaxiu's hand, hesitated, and nodded. Then, with great embarrassment, she licked the spot she had just bitten. Yaxiu couldn't help but chuckle. "There's no need to savor it like that, is there? Well, if Little Sister feels unwell, you don't have to join our discussion. You can just focus on munching my hand in peace." It took Diya a moment to realize that 'Little Sister' referred to her. She was about to agree, but her expression twisted in distress once more. She parted her lips and pressed them against Yaxiu's hand without biting down, as if searching for the best angle to sink her teeth in. After a brief pause, however, she suddenly spoke up: "We think... she isn't Lover's daughter, nor is she Lover's sister. "She is Lover herself." Perhaps out of an apology, or perhaps to prove they were more than mere noise, the sisters in her head had conveyed this answer to Diya, urging her to speak it aloud. The others froze. They took a closer look at the scrawny, tanned little girl in the painting, then looked back at Sonia. Tonight, Sonia wore a blue-and-white dress with a red, gold-trimmed capelet draped over her left shoulder, looking like the dazzling lead actress on a grand stage. The contrast between her and the little girl in the painting was as stark as a blooming flower beside a plain leaf. "While that is certainly possible," Yaxiu said, "their appearances aren't very convincing, are they?" Sonia shook her head vigorously as well—from the bottom of her heart, she refused to connect that ugly duckling in the painting with herself. On the contrary, Denzel nodded. "Now that you mention it, they really do look alike." "How on earth do they look alike?!" Sonia retorted. "Nose, mouth, eyes—none of them match!" This was why they hadn't considered it in the first place: if this had been Sonia in her childhood, they surely would have been able to tell from her facial features. After all, a person's growth followed a consistent thread; no matter how much they changed, traces of the years would remain. Yet between Sonia and the little girl in the painting, while one couldn't say there were zero similarities, there were indeed far too many differences for anyone to connect them at a glance. "The look in her eyes is identical." Diya shook her head and said, "She... We think the look in this little girl's eyes is identical to yours, Lover. "Wary, stubborn, and bright." Sonia went still, looking down to lock eyes with the little girl in the portrait. *The look in her eyes... is identical to mine?* The moment their gazes crossed, it was as if a miracle had been triggered. Sonia blinked, and suddenly found herself standing inside the world of the painting. This was the edge of a forest outside a rural town. A small brook meandered from the woods toward the settlement. The glow of the radiant star drifted across the water, danced atop river pebbles, and sparkled in the eyes of children. Not far away, several children were quarreling. Sonia couldn't hear them clearly, but judging from their expressions and gestures, apart from the cadence of their tones, the rest of their words were likely crude personal attacks. This was not a battle between evenly matched forces. One side was a ragtag gang, while the other was a one-girl army—the little girl had single-handedly challenged several peers at once. With hands on her hips, standing atop a boulder looking down upon them, her rapidly moving lips and the near-tears faces of her opponents proved that this was a one-sided slaughter. Before long, the other children were driven away by her scolding. Yet the victor didn't seem pleased either. Pouting with frustration, she marched over to a large tree by the brook, sat down against its trunk, tapped her wristband, and brought up a light screen playing an educational video. She wore clothes that had faded to a dusty gray from countless washes. Her skin was darkened from labor in the sun, and she clearly suffered from poor nutrition, noticeably scrawnier than peers her age, as though a gust of wind could blow her away. She casually plucked a stalk of foxtail grass beside her and wound it around her fingers, her practiced ease suggesting she had spent a great deal of time playing with such weeds. Although this world seemed to have offered her little beyond sunlight and nature, there was neither confusion nor dejection in her eyes. Instead, she stared intently at the educational video on the light screen, her gaze growing livelier with the influx of knowledge. She hugged her knees tightly, curling into a ball, as if protecting herself, or perhaps trying to hide away. As if sensing something, the little girl turned her head and looked straight at Sonia. In those tender, clear pupils, Sonia's curved, spherical reflection was mirrored. "Lover?" Hearing Yaxiu's voice, Sonia snapped out of the trance with a start. She looked at the picture book again, but nothing extraordinary occurred this time, as if the scene had merely been her hallucination. After a moment of silence, Sonia gave a firm nod. "That's right. She is me when I was little." Though no one knew how Sonia had verified it, the quiz-taker's word naturally carried the greatest weight. Yaxiu accepted the premise and said, "If that's the case, then the answer is self-evident." Denzel asked, "We've only deduced the identities of these three people. But the question asks Lover who her 'most beloved' is. How do you know the answer?" "So-called 'most beloved' is simply a comparison of the magnitude of love. Since it can be compared, we can use the process of elimination," Yaxiu said. "If one of these three people had to die, Lover, which one would you choose?" Sonia hardly hesitated. "You." "Very good. Then between the remaining two, if another had to die..." Yaxiu said, "who would you choose?" Sonia's pupils dilated, and she turned her head to stare straight at Yaxiu. Diya spoke up timidly, "That doesn't seem quite right. After all, we don't have any memories right now. If we had our memories, maybe we would make different choices—" "We only lost our memories, not changed our personalities," Yaxiu said, spreading his hands. "If we had to incorporate the variable of 'memory' to deduce the correct answer, then our current discussion would be completely meaningless. Who's to say Lover's most beloved isn't me? "Besides, memories aren't set in stone. Personality determines memory." Under everyone's bewildered, *what the hell are you talking about* stares, Yaxiu explained, "Memory is actually a very ambiguous, subjective form of information. When you want to hate someone, you overlook all their virtues and strengths; but when you like someone, you overlook their flaws and hidden dangers. "If you have a cheerful disposition, you likely won't remember many sorrowful events; if you're resentful and blame everyone else, you won't remember the little bits of beauty in life either. "Loving someone and having a 'most beloved' are entirely different concepts. Memories can make you fall in love with someone, but that is merely an affection born of investment and effort. Memories cannot alter your most beloved, because 'most beloved' means you are willing to sacrifice everything for her—even altering your own personality to accommodate your most beloved without hesitation. That is what earns the word 'most.' "Therefore, I believe your answer to this question, Lover—Sonia—won't change whether you have your memories or not. Because you made your choice long ago. In order to protect your 'most beloved,' you have already rewritten your memories and adjusted your personality long ago. "However, you don't need to answer my question out loud." Yaxiu pulled Diya to her feet and motioned for Denzel to turn around with him to face backward. "Though it's a bit of self-deception, we won't watch your answer. I hope you won't worry about us and give the truest answer you can." "No need." Sonia spoke calmly, "I don't even know you; why should I care what you think? The Knight is right. Long before entering this cabin, who I loved most had already been decided. So my memories, my personality, and everything I am exist solely to make the person I love most live a better life. "Therefore, Sword Princess, my answer is—the one I love most is this little girl." "I saw how lively your discussion was, so I didn't interrupt," the Sword Princess said. "According to the rules, each question corresponds to one of your treasures. An incorrect answer loses it directly; a correct answer doubles the return. The treasure bound to this question is—your swordsmanship faction realm. "Even stripped of your memories, you still retain your knowledge, so you should understand the weight of this treasure, right?" Sonia's expression did not waver. "My answer remains unchanged." "Very well," the Sword Princess answered briskly. "You answered correctly." With a flick of her finger, two golden streams of light sank into Sonia's body. "Here is your swordsmanship faction realm, along with your reward—an equivalent time faction realm." Before Sonia could digest this prize, the Sword Princess flipped the picture book to another page. "Second question—out of these three people, who do you detest the most?" A sword-bearing woman with disheveled hair, dark circles under her eyes, and her feet resting on a desk. A female student in pretty clothes, applying makeup in front of a mirror. And... a woman wearing pure white silk stockings, sleeves, and a short skirt, who looked dignified, elegant, and warm, yet bore an identical appearance to the multicolored Diya. Diya blinked, pointing at the pure white version of herself. "First of all, let's eliminate this obviously wrong choice..." "No, don't eliminate it just yet." Yaxiu caught her wrist. "I have a feeling that might just be the correct answer."