'So... it really was me.'
'There should never have been any doubt. I'm the real Jin Xueli—'
The moment that thought surfaced, it was as if something that had been tightly binding Jin Xueli suddenly came loose.
She involuntarily collapsed to the floor, buried her face in her hands, and began to sob loudly.
She wasn't sad, nor was she afraid. This bout of crying was more of a release. The anxiety and suspicion from before, the near-death memories of the struggle, the pain and terror of having her throat torn open and her shoulder hacked apart... it all seemed to drain out of her body with each sob, leaving behind an exhausted, empty Jin Xueli.
When she finally stopped, the echoes in the exhibition hall gradually faded, and a cold silence returned.
There was not a single trace of the events that had occurred in her memory.
