Mona Ouyang smiled faintly, standing beneath the dusk. The river below her was dyed gold, and its waters had stopped flowing. She slowly raised both hands and stretched in contentment.
"That's enough, Mona Ouyang."
I asked. Mona Ouyang turned her head and gave me a smile—bright, pure, and innocent. It was the first time I'd ever seen such a smile on her face.
"Dreams are like this, and nightmares too. Once, I loved dreaming. But dreams are just dreams—they can't be awakened from, can't be escaped, can't be set aside. So I decided to create my own dreams, rule over them, control everything within. But what does that really change?"
"Is it because of Martin Ouyang? Seeing him—like your friend, Ouyang Weng—even knowing he wants to take everything from you, you still let him, even supported him. Is that it?"
I had suspected it for a while—Mona Ouyang was willing to let Martin Ouyang take everything from her. Even the voices of the Hundred Ghosts could no longer reach her; the connection was completely severed. That was why her Hundred Ghosts were so anxious, just like when she abandoned the Horror Stories book.
Step by step, I walked toward Mona Ouyang. Now I understood, at least a little, what kind of ghost she was. With a quiet splash, I stepped onto the river's surface and walked to her side.
"As a father, as a mother, is it really right to let the things you created run wild like this?"
Suddenly, Mona Ouyang turned her head. Her smile changed; her long hair danced in the wind, and her expression grew wild and confident, full of self-assurance.
"Even if they want to kill me, so what? I caused all this—a dream that has lasted so, so long. Since it's my fault, it started with me, so it must end with me. Even if they can't understand me, betray me, hate me, point their swords at me—what does it matter? At most, they're just a bunch of unruly children. So tell me, as a parent, if your own child points a sword at you, can you just kill your child? Is it really that simple? Tell me, Ethan Zhang..."
My eyes widened as I looked at Mona Ouyang. My mind buzzed, and tears—clear, shining drops—hung from her face. She was sorrowful.
For a long time, I couldn't make a sound. I just quietly watched Mona Ouyang's back. My heart was churning. It was true—she had the composure of a ghost sovereign. I was beginning to understand what John Chou meant by 'composure.'
I lowered my head. What I remembered was what Vivian Ouyang had told Mona Ouyang: if I really died in this dream world because of him, she would choose to end her own life too. If I died, Mona Ouyang wouldn't be able to bear it either.
"I just want you to get out of here alive. Please, don't die."
I said sincerely. Mona Ouyang turned and looked at me. She neither nodded nor shook her head. Suddenly, I saw another Mona Ouyang standing a little farther away—her instinct, still expressionless as ever.
"So it really is you?" Mona Ouyang said with meaning, glancing at her own instinct.
"Dream, you haven't forgotten me. But you can't die yet. Remember what happened in that endless hell, fighting your way up—think carefully. Your current position, this place you're in: if it collapses, you know what will happen. All restraints will be lost."
Mona Ouyang smiled, walked a few steps on the water, then turned to look at me seriously.
"Tell me, Ethan Zhang—if it were you, what would you do?"
I bowed my head, thinking about everything I'd been through. What came to mind first was John Chou—he'd guided me step by step on my journey. Suddenly, I looked up at Mona Ouyang, clenching my fists.