Mourning Blade Alliance Management, Dear Friend Youyou

I was shocked to hear the terrible news last night; I could not believe it, nor did I want to.

An old friend, not even forty years old, has suddenly departed just like that.

My heart is heavy, dazed, and sorrowful; I cannot find peace, nor can I let it go.

I feel as though I am not yet old, but I do not know when it began—within my vast circle of friends.

There are already those who will never update again.

I met Youyou around 2010.

At that time, my administrators Fufu and Xuan'er could no longer help me manage my books due to their studies and work.

They recommended her to me: "There is a reader who loves your books very much, reads only your books, and is very suitable to be your administrator."

From War God Transformation to Arrogant Sword in the Firmament, then to Heaven-Slaying Blade, Boundless, and Grand Talisman Master...

It was always Youyou leading the management team to help me.

She was a kind, beautiful, enthusiastic, and optimistic girl.

She was also a girl who was extremely responsible toward her family, her friends, and her work.

Youyou was my reader, my head administrator, my friend, and also my confidante.

Youyou, I knew you were ill a long time ago, and I knew you were very strong.

All these years, you were always working hard and living life earnestly.

Looking back at our chat history, the last time I spoke with you was in August.

It must have been very serious by then, right?

You told me, "It's okay, Brother, it's nothing."

I told you to take care.

You urged me not to work so hard at my writing.

You insisted I take care of my health, telling me to keep exercising and to control my blood sugar.

You said we both had to be well.

I said, "Okay, we will both be well."

Your last emoji is still sitting there.

I never imagined you would say goodbye so suddenly.

You will never pop up again.

To ask, "Brother Dao, how have you been lately? How is Sister-in-law? Is Erbao already very big?"

Looking at this is truly heartbreaking.

I even feel regret and self-reproach; why couldn't I have chatted with you more during your final days?

Even though I would still be incredibly heartbroken and sad because of your departure.

Perhaps, there would be a little less regret.

Logically, someone like me, who has passed the age of forty and has even bid farewell to my closest kin.

Should be calmer and more enlightened when facing such a parting by death.

I should be able to say, just like the philosophy I always uphold in my works: "Death is not the end; life is merely a trial."

But I still cannot do it.

I am still that ordinary person who fears death, lives in the mundane world, and bows for five pecks of rice.

I cannot calmly face your departure.

Last night, a group of familiar old readers, those who called you Sister You, were all incredibly sad and heartbroken.

Some cried and wanted to call me.

I didn't see it, so they looked for me on QQ, on WeChat, in the chapter comments of my new book, and via text message.

They, who treated you like an Elder Sister, are just as sad as I am.

They asked me to write a piece to commemorate you.

I said I couldn't write it.

I have too many things I want to talk to you about, Youyou, but you have left.

I didn't know what I should say at the time.

What else is there to say?

My heart is heavy, filled with a complex mix of emotions.

I opened your QQ and entered your space for the first time.

Aside from work and scenery, almost everything else was pictures related to my books.

Your collection of covers for my published works is more complete than my own.

At that moment, your brother—a middle-aged man of over forty—was truly struggling to hold back his tears.

Yet, my vision still blurred.

This morning, I returned to my hometown to pay my respects at the graves of my father and departed relatives.

Upon returning to the studio, the first thing I did was finish what I couldn't complete last night.

To write an article in your memory.

But I still wrote it in a mess, my eyes clouded with tears, rambling incoherently.

I trust you won't blame me.

After all, I am your brother.

People have even criticized my writing as old-fashioned and outdated.

So, just make do with this eulogy.

There isn't much I can do, only allow you to remain in everyone's memory in this way.

I have also been in contact with your family; once you are laid to rest, I will find an opportunity to visit you.

I will bring you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers then.

In 2018, my reader Little Bear had her life frozen forever at a beautiful, youthful age due to leukemia.

Seven years later, at two in the morning on January 15th, you too departed this world due to stomach cancer, returning to the heavens.

If you meet Little Bear, remember to give her my regards.

Farewell, my loyal reader; farewell, my head moderator; farewell, my beautiful girl; farewell, my old friend whom I never met in person, yet was a soulmate for a lifetime.

I hope that in another world, you can live without a single worry.

Just like those years when we first met, living happily, with a smile always on your face.

Just like that line in the last message you sent me: "Who am I? I'll definitely be fine; even the heavens can't defeat me."

I also hope that all the friends reading this article will take good care of your health.

After all, having made this journey through the human world, one must cherish it.