It was not a rebuke, nor resentment, but a comforting plea.
That choked murmur had barely sounded before it faded away entirely, while the strand of hair flying toward him landed in Ouyang's hand.
Clarity abruptly returned to the eyes of Ouyang, whose consciousness had been collapsing.
His crumbling body began to solidify little by little.
Lying on the ground, Ouyang gazed at the strand of hair in his hand with light filling his eyes, as though everything he had done had received an answer.
Still unaccustomed to his body, Ouyang struggled to sit up and leaned against the cage. Looking at the strand of hair in his hand, he murmured to himself, "That voice just now... was it Tutu?"
Though he phrased it as a question, Ouyang was utterly certain in his heart.
The Recording Stone before him had played more than nine hundred million times. The voices, faces, and smiles of his junior brothers and sisters had been etched deep into his mind. Even if there had been some changes, Ouyang could still make out the subtle differences.
That choked sob just now had come from Tutu!
Why had Tutu's voice reached him?
Even becoming the River of Time itself would not have made it possible to reach this place above the Void!
What he had heard just now was definitely no hallucination, for that strand of hair now lay quietly in his hand.
With a sense of unreality, Ouyang touched the cage before him. The cage, originally only a meter high, began to expand outward as he reached out.
When Ouyang stood up, he discovered that he had actually pushed open a narrow gap in the top of this cage that had only allowed him to curl up inside!
More than nine hundred million days of imprisonment-millions