Chapter 394: A Fan’s Obsession, the So-Called Forgetting

Sea City, outer ring, old neighborhood.

Chu Wang Shu wore a mask and a baseball cap. She was wrapped in dim starlight, passing sparkling street lamps and banyan trees full of insect sounds. She walked along the familiar path she had taken many times before, entered the building, and used her key to open the front door.

She changed her shoes, turned on the lights, and chased away the darkness.

What came into view was a small house that was clean but old, looking too quiet and without any sign of life.

The girl took off her mask, lowered her eyes to look around, and suddenly felt unfamiliar. Although she had rarely come back here since living at school in high school, and it was normal for it to feel lifeless, her heart still felt unsettled.

Chu Wang Shu seemed like it was her first time here. She carefully looked around. On the shoe cabinet was a yellowed calendar, next to it was a box of unopened matcha cream puffs. She squatted down, picked up a dusty little watering can, filled it with water, and watered the mostly dried green plants in the corner.

She opened the window, and the faint sound of cicadas suddenly became clear.

She walked into the kitchen. The neatly arranged spices showed no signs of time. The fridge was full of fruits and fancy ingredients she once didn’t want to buy. Most were still sealed, looking bright and full, like a childhood dream, but now she felt no joy or interest.

“Why did I buy these back then?”

Chu Wang Shu still remembered the excitement, happiness, and hope when shopping at the supermarket, but she forgot where those feelings came from. It was like she didn’t know why she had come back to this rented room that wasn’t even a real home on the day she achieved her dream.

The girl quietly walked through this sixty-square-meter small house: the living room, kitchen, bathroom, a room with cartoon posters, an empty wardrobe, an empty bed full of clutter, and a bedroom with a wheelchair.

“Is this… the storage room?”

Chu Wang Shu’s memory was a little fuzzy; she just couldn’t remember. After thinking for a while, she strangely walked over to the wheelchair and crouched down. It wasn’t covered in dust, only a few strands of hair shining silver in the moonlight.

But when she looked closely, the hair that belonged to that person melted away like spring snow, disappearing into the darkness that swallowed the moonlight, leaving no trace behind.

It all happened so fast that even the magical girl’s extrasensory perception couldn’t catch a clear image. She lowered her eyes, feeling lost, staring blankly at the wheelchair, and could only think that she must have been mistaken.

“It shouldn’t have ever been lived in. Why is there a wheelchair here?”

Chu Wang Shu whispered to herself. She stood up and wandered around the room for a while. With a mix of feelings, she then walked out and started searching every corner, every bedside, drawer, and box in the house.

The girl didn’t even know what she was looking for. She was stubborn, confused, and lonely, like a silly child playing hide and seek with the air. For two hours, she went through every part of the house, even looking through old yearbooks, photo albums, and pictures on the computer hard drive.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all. She couldn’t find anything.

Even after turning the house into a mess, she still couldn’t fill the emptiness inside. That deep sadness and loss stayed in her chest, feeling like a cold blade cutting through her heart.

Chu Wang Shu put the picture frame back in its place and pressed her lips silently.

In this photo, a little girl stands before a sea of sunflowers. She is bathed in the sunset’s warm light, her big, sparkling eyes full of joy. Her young face holds a bright, happy smile, with no sign of loneliness at all.

Why is she so happy? Even though… she is all alone.

The girl took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

Although she had said hello to Sister Miyuki and the others, she knew she shouldn’t keep everyone waiting too long.

Chu Wang Shu changed her shoes and turned off the light. She glanced back at the dim little house, and just before leaving, she suddenly remembered a line from *Death and the Compass*.

[The house was not really that big. What made it seem big were the shadows, the symmetry, the mirrors, the long years, my unfamiliarity, and the loneliness.]

The girl softened her worried look and quietly said to herself:

“I will come back again.”

With that, she closed the door and walked away. Golden magic energy spread like wings, just like a bird flying through the sky. In the blink of an eye, she soared faster than sound, pierced the clouds, stirred the air, and flew like a shooting star toward Zhelong Town.

On the other side, the Second Ring Road of Sea City, Canggu Road, shopping street.

Here, luckily, the Supreme Disaster Beast and the remaining power of the apostles did not affect the area. No disaster aura vortex appeared, and the buildings suffered no damage, making it livelier and busier than usual.

Although with just a thought, the entire Sea City, and even Daxia, could have been leveled, exposing the veins deep beneath the earth’s crust, for the vast majority of people, it was like an earthquake that suddenly appeared and then vanished, causing little harm.

Most people never confronted that terror directly. They only heard the piercing alarm, and just as they were setting off for shelters, they learned the crisis had passed. Later, confused and unclear, they pieced together parts of the truth from the internet.

Were they fearful? Worried? Anxious?

To some extent, yes, but life went on as usual.

People did not know how many hard-won miracles were hidden behind this seemingly ordinary peace, nor how many sacrifices and tears were buried beneath it, but they still understood the principle of seizing the moment to enjoy life.

Many overworked office workers and shut-ins who felt they had narrowly escaped death chose irregularly to travel, either as a reward for themselves or because “if I don’t spend money now, I might never have the chance.” Today, Sea City truly became a city that never slept.

At this moment, inside a Chaozhou-style hotpot restaurant on the street, decorated in an old Chinese style with red lanterns hanging high, all the ground floor benches were fully occupied, with even the smallest two-person tables numbered up to 79.

Though it was late summer, the steamy hotpot restaurant attracted so many diners because there were very few establishments still open at this time.

Xu Ling helped her little cousin tie her apron. She dipped her chopsticks into the sauce, tasted it, and smiled with satisfaction.

The aroma of garlic, sesame oil, chopped scallions, chili sauce, sesame seeds, and a mixture of other condiments filled the air, making the bubbling beef tallow hotpot even more enticing.

Pei Xiaotong filled a glass to the brim with ice and soda, then quickly placed two dishes of fatty meat along with fresh beef, lamb, shrimp paste, and fish rolls on the table.

After that,

The girl blinked, watching the ingredients rolling, softening, and floating in the bright red beef tallow broth, absorbing the fragrant and spicy flavors. She couldn’t help but take out her phone to snap a photo and happily said,

“It smells so good!”

Xu Ling said confidently,

“This is a time-honored restaurant. The staff and owner are all relatives from Sichuan and Chongqing, so the shop is still open today and holding strong.”

Pei Xiaotong stirred the oil dipping sauce with her chopsticks, sliding her phone with her left hand as she watched the news broadcast showing World Python, Seraph, Takeminakata… all kinds of mythical creatures and terrifying monsters from satellite views, along with various street photos. For a moment, she felt as if she were in another world and whispered,

“It’s incredible. While we were watching the live show, so much was happening outside. If we had been careless even for a second, would everyone have been gone?”

Xu Ling shuddered and said,

“It was really scary. My cousin was pouring her heart out in the group chat, saying that if Charlotte hadn’t intervened, Guanyin would have eaten them. The world is so dangerous, yet we’re still chasing idols. It’s so surreal.”

Pei Xiaotong said with conviction,

“Everyone’s saying if not for the magical girls, the whole Sea City might have been wiped out. From many UPers’ analyses, underground shelters can withstand nuclear weapons but might not survive Supreme Disaster Beasts like Yggdrasil.”

“And Honey Ling, think about it — right after Honey Xuan, Little Sakura, Honey Moon, and Liuli finished performing, so many light disasters occurred. Then Charlotte suddenly appeared on stage.”

“Judging by the online timeline, Charlotte was still singing for the entire city, protecting Sea City’s citizens, and shortly after, the city’s crisis was lifted.”

“Looking at it this way, what we initially thought were just easter egg segments were actually alternative oaths and victory declarations. Those magical girls were all exhausted and injured. It really breaks my heart.”

Xu Ling, fully embracing her will as a single fan, found a fresh perspective and, almost without thinking, naturally exclaimed with emotion,

“After this accident, won’t Charlotte’s popularity in Sea City surpass Honey Qing’s? As a…”

The girl didn’t finish her sentence. She fell into a daze, holding her head as if stunned.

Pei Xiaotong blinked and looked at Xu Ling, who seemed a bit off, and asked confusedly,

“Honey Qing? Who’s that? Have you secretly been fangirling some little idol behind my back?”

Xu Ling felt an unbearable headache. Her mind seemed to be struggling against something. Faint memories and blanks interlaced like shattered mirrors reflecting one another, repeatedly fracturing the past. Her vision overlapped, then suddenly cleared. A profound sensation of falling into emptiness filled her chest, bringing a hollow sorrow.

“Honey Qing… who was that?”

“I forgot too. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue. I probably meant Miyuki?”

The girl forced a faint, sad smile. She lowered her eyes and explained while absentmindedly flipping open her bag that held materials and support items. Inside were three cheering sticks: one cherry pink, one gilded gold, and one mixed with the two colors.

But as her gaze dropped, all the colors unified, instantly turning into pure cherry pink, leaving no trace behind.

Xu Ling stared blankly at the three cheering sticks in her hand, then at the steaming hot pot. Her appetite inexplicably diminished by more than half. Ignoring Pei Xiaotong’s worried gaze, she picked up her phone and started searching for Honey Qing, clips of the hottest competitors from months ago on Dazzling Stage, and super topic records.

[Ri Yi Yue’s book ended badly!]

[Great Devil’s amazing stage.]

[The genius child star’s comeback: rise or fall?]

[Screenshots of Chu Wang Shu’s Weibo before joining Dazzling Stage.]

[Anyone want to ship Little Sakura and Great Devil? I’ll come up with a ship name.]

Somehow, when she saw the last post, a strange and subtle uneasiness rose within her, as if a voice deep in her soul was shouting that this ship was off, and the real ship to root for was not this one.

Xu Ling pressed her lips tightly, holding back the discomfort, and kept scrolling. But no matter how much she searched, all that appeared were irrelevant posts.

Ten minutes later, by the time the beef in the pot was tender and fully cooked,

the girl started scrolling through her own Weibo account again, looking at videos she had posted before. She pondered deeply for a long while, sighed heavily, then finally gave up struggling and absentmindedly began eating the hot pot.

Xu Ling felt confused, inexplicably so. Wasn’t she always a steadfast solo fan of Little Sakura?

From supporting underground idols on Dongliu Island to pushing her as she became a magical girl poised for the world stage—they grew together, sharing hardships and beautiful moments alike. Other little idols might be cute and alluring, but none could capture her sincere and loyal soul!

Yes, that was right. She simply would not tolerate other little idols!

So… it had to be an illusion! It definitely was an illusion!

Thinking this, Xu Ling suddenly recalled something. She hurriedly took a photo of the hot pot, added a picture from a live performance where Little Sakura and her teammates were showered with golden ribbons, smiling as they were crowned, then posted a Weibo message celebrating the moment before zoning out again.

How strange—normally, she would have edited the text and pictures and posted them immediately during the live show.

But until now, she had only just remembered this, as if her subconscious had felt something missing, wavering until all thought was lost, before finally allowing this deeply meaningful celebration to be shared.

Xu Ling suddenly asked,

“Honey Tong, do you still remember who I just mentioned?”

Pei Xiaotong blinked her big eyes in confusion. She innocently took another bite of shrimp paste and asked,

“Huh? I only remember you said the wrong name. Didn’t you mean Little Sakura just now?”

The little girl confidently comforted her,

“If you ask me, it doesn’t matter if Little Sakura’s popularity is now surpassed by Charlotte. The Last Diva is a magical girl who recently subdued all four forbidden zones and was officially named Chief of Staff.”

“Little Sakura losing to her is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Besides, she’s not from the Daxia region. She’s the ultimate big boss that no one needs to challenge for now. When their teams finally meet, who knows when that will be? There’s nothing to fear at all.”

Listening to her little cousin’s chatter, Xu Ling nodded in agreement while eating hot pot. The well-cooked beef remained tasty, dipped in oily sauce and beef fat, fresh and spicy. The heat rolled on her tongue, exciting her taste buds and causing sweat beads to form on her forehead.

But inexplicably, Pei Xiaotong’s words stirred a bittersweet pang in her heart, making her feel even more distressed.

The girl pressed her lips together and poured more chili into the oil dish. Suddenly abandoning ladylike eating, she ate hastily, dipping the meat heavily in chili and stuffing it into her mouth, even though the spiciness burned her throat and nostrils relentlessly.

Then, tears uncontrollably streamed down her face from the spicy sting.

Pei Xiaotong nervously poured some cola, handed it over, and wiped her tears with a tissue, quietly murmuring,

“You silly, no Sichuan or Chongqing person ever cries from eating hot pot!”

Xu Ling swallowed the beef along with the inexplicable feelings, sniffled, curled her oily shiny lips into a bright smile, and said,

“Maybe I just choked a little.”

At the same time, as the sense of emptiness spread, the purest fans of Little Yuanxiao—those who had been somewhat forgotten by their own—felt a subtle discordance.

These gradually building emotions, like grains of sand piled into a tower, were like rare diamonds in a desert or white petals scattered on funeral flowers, undergoing withering, fading, dispersing, and… forgetting.