Other than himself, someone else still remembered Chu Zihang!
Chu Zihang was not a fabrication. He Xiaomeng was not a fabrication. Erii was not a fabrication either. They were not illusory reflections, not stories he had made up, but people who had truly existed—who had lived, laughed, cried, and fought in this world.
Caesar did not remember. Nono did not remember. Finn did not remember. Everyone thought he had hysteria, thought he was imagining someone who did not exist.
Even he had begun to waver, to doubt himself, to doubt whether those memories were real, to wonder if they were hallucinations born from his own imagination.
Now, at last, the clouds had parted. At last, someone like him knew that something was wrong with this world!
He took a deep breath, then another. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Daoist Priest, you... you really remember him?"
Pingyangzi nodded slightly, a strange look in his eyes, as though he were saying, What is there to ask?
Lu Mingfei suddenly laughed.
In such a dim room, strapped into such a restraining chair, tied up and treated like a mental patient—he laughed just like that, laughing like an idiot.
But he was genuinely happy.
It was the happiness that rose from the depths of one's heart when one had walked alone in darkness for far too long, only to finally glimpse a faint light!
Pingyangzi bent down and lightly flicked a finger against the metal cuffs. With a soft click, the restraints around Lu Mingfei's wrists and ankles came undone.
Lu Mingfei moved his numb wrists and was about to thank him when Pingyangzi straightened up. The light fell across him, and his expression turned somewhat solemn.
"Layman Lu."
His voice was not loud, yet it held a peculiar power, like the tolling