The hand resting in Fang Yuan's palm was exceptionally thin. Even with just a gentle touch, she could clearly feel the angular joints protruding from beneath, almost threatening to pierce through the withered skin.
She felt the withered hand tighten slightly, resting a portion of its weight securely against her broad palm.
“Thank you, Star. Just call me Grandma Turtle.”
“Are you a God Candidate?”
Fang Yuan naturally wrapped her fingers around that gaunt hand. Without asking where the old woman was headed, she simply led her at an unhurried pace toward Fountain Square.
“Yes, I am a Candidate of the God of War.”
Grandma Turtle didn't mention her destination either, simply matching Fang Yuan's pace step by step along the street.
“I met another Candidate earlier. Although I don't know which god he belonged to, he was a good child too.”
Fang Yuan held her hand and stopped, letting an Age-Rind Turtlekin child running toward them with a pinwheel pass first.
“Is that so?”
She resumed walking, bringing Grandma Turtle forward.
“Yes, that child was so sweet, and spoke so gently—he reminded me very much of my own child.”
“Star, do you know? His voice sounded so very much like my child's.”
“I may be old, but I'm not foolish. Those who are gone are gone; they're never coming back.”
“Star, you say there are gods in this world—so is there a hell? Where do divine creations go after they die?”
Fang Yuan listened quietly to her ramblings. Only when the old woman threw out that question did she speak up: “Wait until I become a god, and I'll look around to see if hell exists. If it really does, I'll see if I can snatch your child back for you.”
She felt the withered hand stiffen for a moment. It seemed the old woman had not expected such a serious answer to her question at all.
“I was just joking, Star. Don't feel burdened...”
Fang Yuan tilted her head slightly and said calmly, “I'm not joking. The one who becomes a god will definitely be me. Finding hell sounds like an interesting task too. Live a few more years, and I'll come look for you once I become a god.”
Grandma Turtle was stunned. Unable to see Fang Yuan's expression and listening only to her unruffled voice, she couldn't judge whether this God Candidate was being genuinely serious or just making a remarkably convincing joke.
So she changed the subject.
“Let's not talk about that. Let me tell you more about the Candidate I met.”
“We had a wonderful conversation. He called me mother, so I gave him a gift.”
“It was a piece of my turtle shell, to bless him with safety and peace.”
“It had been so very long since I talked to anyone like that. Truth be told, I can barely remember when my child died...”
“Of course, I can touch my shell. I can look back at my memories through the ring patterns.”
Grandma Turtle's voice abruptly faltered. Her entire body tensed up instantly, only to relax a moment later as if it had been nothing more than an illusion.
“But I can't...”
“I've lived for too long. I can't look back at those past events anymore...”
Fang Yuan plainly took in all of her physical reactions. The sudden stiffness transmitted through their interlaced fingers, pressing into Fang Yuan's palm.
She read two words from it:
Fear.
She was often able to perceive this emotion.
Back when she had torn four biting wild dogs apart with her bare hands, she hadn't even needed to touch them; just looking was enough to sense the dense terror radiating from them.
“Grandma Turtle, how old are you?”
“About... nine hundred and seventeen years old...”
Fang Yuan grunted in acknowledgment.
Over nine hundred years old... The gods had only descended five hundred years ago, yet the age of divine creations exceeded five hundred years.
Just as she thought of this, Grandma Turtle seemed to realize it as well.
“I'm old; my memory is getting confused. I thought about it again just now—I should be four hundred and seventeen... or maybe four hundred and twenty-eight?”
“Getting so old, I just can't remember.”
“Star, if you happen to meet that Candidate who spoke with me, please pass a message to him for me.”
“Just tell him that I am deeply grateful for that final 'mother' he called me.”
Fang Yuan agreed without a second thought. “Rest assured, Grandma Turtle. If I run into him, I'll definitely deliver the message.”
It was you, wasn't it, Liang Du?
Fang Yuan remembered it clearly: when her second-to-last hammer stroke fell, a shard of turtle shell had shattered and splashed onto Liang Du's face.
He'd better pray he encounters me later, though, so he can live a little longer.
Don't worry, I will definitely deliver your message before I kill him.
“Grandma Turtle, do divine creations experience birth, old age, sickness, and death as well?”
Grandma Turtle shook her head. “No, divine creations are immortal species. We do not die. Just like those of you who set foot into the 【Fertile Land of the Gods】, we are all immortal.”
“You want to ask why, if we are immortal, I look so aged and withered, right?”
Fang Yuan was equally direct: “Yes.”
Grandma Turtle smiled, seemingly unbothered by Fang Yuan's bluntness. “Experience, memories, and sorrow are what made me old. As I aged, my memory deteriorated, allowing me to sometimes forget those past events and heartaches. So you can understand this decay as...”
Fang Yuan finished her thought: “A self-defense mechanism of bodily functions.”
Grandma Turtle gently patted Fang Yuan's hand. “Yes, you are a clever child.”
Her steps slowly came to a halt. Fang Yuan looked down the alley to her right and saw doors set directly into the walls.
“I've reached home. Thank you, Star, for being willing to walk with me for a bit and talk with me.”
“I walk here often. You are only the second person I've met who was willing to talk with me.”
Fang Yuan withdrew her hand and watched as the old woman comfortably turned into the alley.
Just as she was about to leave, Grandma Turtle's raspy voice stopped her once more.
“Star, you are very contradictory.”
Fang Yuan turned back, her expressionless gaze landing on the old woman's wrinkled face.
“I can smell it. You weren't genuinely willing to walk with me.”
“Yet when I reached out my hand to you, you still supported my palm.”
Fang Yuan countered with a question instead: “Because you're blind, is your nose sharper at capturing emotions?”
Grandma Turtle didn't get angry at her offense. “Yes. You disguise yourself very well. During our conversation, I could barely smell your true emotions, making it impossible to tell what kind of person you really are.”
“I have a grandmother.”
Grandma Turtle seemed to freeze for a moment. She tilted her neck up, her nostrils flaring slightly.
“Whether this sentence is sincere, your nose will tell you.”
“If fate permits, we'll meet again, Grandma Turtle.”
Fang Yuan turned around and walked straight down the street, quickly putting distance between herself and the alley.
Left alone, Grandma Turtle turned around falteringly and shuffled deeper into the alley.
That sentence just now had been sincere.
And along with that sincerity came an extraordinarily intense emotion:
——"Nostalgia."
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