Before Chunji could answer, Puxin's voice rang out from outside:
"Master, benefactor! Dinner's ready!"
Chunji rose and offered, "Since things have come to this, let us have dinner together first. We mustn't keep Puxin waiting."
Jiang Che could only follow along.
In the dining room in the eastern wing, a table of simple food and plain tea had already been laid out.
Chunji's rules at the dinner table were strict: no talking while eating. Jiang Che ate the entire meal in silence with master and disciple.
Jiang Che had been somewhat agitated at first, but as he ate, he gradually calmed down.
He also knew just how much information his words had contained, and how much pressure they had placed on Chunji.
To be told that you were merely someone within a bubble, that real history had long since been set in stone, that fate had already been written... who wouldn't find that absurd? Who could readily accept it?
That did not even depend on how much evidence Jiang Che had brought.
Any ordinary person would refuse to believe it, no matter how much evidence lay before them.
Wouldn't believing it mean admitting that their own existence was meaningless?
They would either take Jiang Che for a madman or do everything possible to prove that he was lying. Even if they confirmed that he was telling the truth, they would insist that someone had altered his thoughts and memories to deceive him.
But Jiang Che had faith in Chunji.
He believed that Master Chunji was not that sort of person, that he would not simply sink into despair because his life had suddenly become an illusion.
Still, he needed to give Chunji more time. He would let him enjoy this meal in peace, and take some time to accept it