Why is it that every time Xu Xi wakes up, he can always hear Krisha's greetings in the first moment?
Why is it that every time he opens his eyes, Krisha's face is always the first thing he sees?
The answer is simple.
So simple that it’s almost startling.
Every time Xu Xi falls asleep, every time he drifts into slumber, Krisha quietly sits by the bed after watching him lie down, accompanying the passage of time with a small wooden chair.
She sits in silence, watching the sun and moon rise and fall in the sky.
She waits, enduring the changing of the world’s seasons.
Krisha accompanies him in silence, waiting in the loneliness that only she knows, sitting motionless, her eyes fixed on the figure that grows older with each passing day.
Is it painful?
Is it boring?
Krisha doesn’t think so.
Because when that figure falls into stillness, the world the witch can see turns gray and lifeless. She feels no vitality, sees no color, and actively blocks out everything.
Only when Xu Xi awakens does Krisha’s lifeless world begin to move again, regaining its normal hues.
“I’ve been waiting, waiting all this time, for you.”
Sunlight streams through the window into the bedroom.
Due to the angle, it creates a striking contrast of light and shadow, dividing the room into two halves.
Xu Xi, now 85 years old, shows signs of aging. He lies on the bed, bathed in the bright side, every wrinkle and strand of white hair illuminated clearly.
Not far from Xu Xi, by the bedside.
Krisha sits in the shadows, quietly poised, her hollow eyes reflecting the light.
Her calm, delicate face shows no expression, but as her light silver-gray hair sways gently in the breeze, it seems to burst with countless unspoken emotions.
Waiting for you.
Always waiting for you.
So says Krisha Christina.
She is a witch without a heart, without her own joys or sorrows, a being who has spent her entire life as an “object” obeying her master’s commands.
And so, the witch has always stayed by Xu Xi’s side.
Waiting for Xu Xi to awaken, waiting for his next command.
That is the only meaning of her existence.
Facing such a Krisha, facing a witch who has waited through countless days and nights.
For a moment.
Xu Xi isn’t sure whether to criticize and educate the witch, to make her stop this meaningless behavior, or to praise and commend her for her unwavering dedication.
In the end, Xu Xi does neither.
Because it doesn’t matter.
He gently takes Krisha’s hand, clasping her slender fingers, bringing them into the sunlight.
“Let’s go for a walk, Krisha. I’ve been lying in bed for so long, I feel like my body is losing all sensation.”
“…Yes.”
Krisha is obedient, as always.
She walks with Xu Xi as he gets out of bed, stepping out of the bedroom, passing through the quiet, empty hallway, and finally entering the sunlit, green courtyard filled with flowers and trees.
Xu Xi walks slowly.
A sense of weakness spreads from within his body, gradually reaching his legs.
The feeling is subtle, each step a reminder of his body’s growing sluggishness, like a performance nearing its final curtain.
“How beautiful.”
Suddenly, Xu Xi stops.
Before him is the flourishing courtyard, meticulously cared for by Krisha. The intertwined branches and fragrant flowers sway in the wind, clusters of crimson Dragon’s Blood grass rippling like small waves.
“Krisha, you’ve managed it well. I’m very pleased.”
“Thank you for your praise.”
Xu Xi looks to his side, where the silver-haired witch stands quietly. She is as detached as ever, exuding an indescribable emptiness, as if cut off from everything in this world.
This is exactly how she was when Xu Xi first met her.
But the once frail and pitiful girl.
Has long since grown into a reliable adult.
Gazing at the courtyard, the flowers, the warm sunlight, and the grown-up witch.
Xu Xi slowly closes his heavy eyelids, feeling the sunlight fall on his body, warming his loose, sagging skin, bringing him a sense of warmth and comfort.
He has nothing left to worry about.
Thud—
[You and the witch walk through the courtyard]
[Everything in the courtyard, including the Dragon’s Blood grass you care about most, has been meticulously maintained by Krisha]
[Even if you were to manage it yourself, you couldn’t have done better]
[In your daze, you recall Krisha as a child, comparing her to the grown-up witch before you, and realize how outstanding she has become, no longer needing your guidance or supervision]
[Your duty as a mentor may have come to an end]
[You feel relieved, you sigh, you chuckle softly. From long ago, you’ve been worried about Krisha’s future, but now, you’re certain that even without you, she can live well]
[The worry that kept you waking up time and time again has finally disappeared]
[Your consciousness suddenly fades, and your aged body begins to fall forward, nearly collapsing to the ground, but Krisha quickly reaches out to steady you]
[After less than an hour of being awake, you fall into slumber once more]
“Mentor!… Mentor!”
A mournful cry echoes in the darkness.
Xu Xi is too tired, too exhausted to respond, even as he hears the voice.
Like a small boat in a raging storm.
His consciousness, his soul, his thoughts are all swallowed by the endless darkness, merging into eternal tranquility.
Only a tiny fragment of his self remains, stubbornly clinging to existence.
…
[Simulation Year 72, you are 86 years old, Krisha is 78]
[Since the day you collapsed in the courtyard, you have been asleep for a year, with no signs of waking]
[Krisha says nothing, only sitting by the bed, waiting for your return]
[She witnesses another cycle of seasons in the room]
[Simulation Year 73, you are 87 years old, Krisha is 79]
[You remain asleep]
[Krisha still maintains her eternal 17-year-old appearance]
[This year, Krisha’s power reaches the peak of the Sanctuary Magus. She attempts to break through to the Demigod level, hoping to use divine power to heal you, but she fails]
[The balance that once brought her success no longer helps her break through, and she remains stuck at the Sanctuary Magus level]
[Simulation Year 74, you are 88 years old, Krisha is 80]
[Some of the furniture has begun to age, becoming less functional, but Krisha pays no attention. She continues to wait in your room]
[Simulation Year 75, you are 89 years old, Krisha is 81]
[The witch is still waiting]
[The witch continues to wait]
[The witch persists in waiting]
[Simulation Year 79, you are 93 years old, Krisha is 85]
[Your spirit remains asleep, but your body has aged beyond recognition. Time has left marks that cannot be erased, stripping away everything you once had]
[Your face has become unfamiliar to the witch, your skin dull and covered in wrinkles, like rough, unappealing bark]
[The witch no longer sits in silence]
[She gently holds your hand, feeling its brittle texture, calling out to you over and over, pleading for your return]
[You open your clouded eyes]