Did this feeling count as pain?
Lu Xin himself could not say for sure. He did not even know why he was crying; the tears simply kept flowing.
Perhaps it was because, for the first time, he had seen himself clearly?
For as long as he could remember, Lu Xin's life had always been hazy and muddled.
Even his memories had always been gray. Fragmented and disjointed, he had never even wanted to recall them carefully. Whenever he had tried to remember those things, all that came back were events that left him deeply oppressed.
But a transcript from the Old Director had suddenly made several stages of his life incomparably clear.
He had not tried to discuss it with his family, but that transcript—and the trials recorded on it—
Because he understood them especially clearly.
When he saw the Trial of Life, he remembered the earliest stage of those hazy memories.
He remembered seeming to awaken from an abstract nightmare, ignorant and bewildered by everything in the world.
He remembered that nightmare clearly, but he could not describe its scenes to anyone else.
Everything in that dream had been abstract and impossible to explain in human language.
Every sensation in the dream had clearly told him that the world was meaningless.
If it could be called a trial, then it had been the earliest and most incomprehensible one. But in the end, he had found meaning.
His arrival in this world, and his perception of it, had been a trial in itself.
Yet even after that trial, he had remained muddled and dazed.
He had merely watched the people and things around him with curiosity, finding everything fresh and interesting, yet also feeling that none of it mattered.
Even now, when Lu Xin recalled his