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Haah—!

The ink on the page dissipates completely, revealing the beautiful calligraphy beneath.

But the proxy can see it no more.

He falls to the ground, covered in blood, so thin and gaunt he hardly seems human.

He has stopped breathing.

I wanted to kill myself. I have gotten my wish.

After more than a century of plotting since your last failed attempt, this is how it ends, I the strategist, I the schemer?

You're delusional.

The proxy stands beside his bloody corpse on the floor, perfectly unharmed as he was when he entered the Tomb of Sui.

The body on the ground dissipates like the morning dew, until only three shining black stones are left—

Until they, too, disintegrate.

Turning yourself into weiqi stones. This was your idea.

Three black stones in exchange for killing you once. A fair trade.

Pathetic. You are fooling yourself.

Fooling myself?

I've visited many of your kind. I know how incomprehensible you are... how incomprehensible we are.

I know about the faint consciousnesses that were born from the primordial void, and I know how they have transformed themselves into colossal entities in the course of an infinity.

Time, space, quantity, structure... the things that mortals take for granted, the things that seem to be everlasting, unchangeable, are merely a temporary roost for you.

I have seen one of your kind continue to disrupt what should have been the calm flow of time, even though it had died long ago and been turned into a machine at the hands of others.

And you still dream of killing me?

Perhaps you have no need to die. But you will fall into eternal slumber, Sui, the dreamer of evolution.

Mankind has no use for your arrogant design, and I have no use for your endless dream.

Every death in your memory is real, a genuine death of a small part of your enormous consciousness.

Don't believe me? Think back to the day I encountered that 'madman', back when your methods were so primitive they were downright laughable. What did I do?

Did I give the book back to the Sui Regulator? Did I destroy it? What was written in it? Was it really a book?

See? You've forgotten.

You dare...!

Your memory has died, the price you paid in exchange for three black stones.

To be precise, you died by the writing knife imbued with a proxy's entire life force.

He scraped clean every instance of the 'Sui' character across all Great Yan, and with it any trace that a creature called 'Sui' ever existed.

The recklessness... the blasphemy!

I would do it again, had I the writing knife in my hand right now.

I would be happy to create for you a nightmare, from which you would never wake. Even at the cost of my own life.

...You cannot.

The more parts of me you kill, the more you think you have weakened me, and the sooner I will wake.

I know.

Death hurts. Each and every one of your memories is real. They are happening somewhere. The pain of your death cuts straight to the heart.

What about you? What can you do?

I will continue the game.

Until neither of us can ever rise again.

<p=2>Two days before the day of the full moon, Hour of Ch'en</>

*sigh*... *siiiigh*...

What are you sighing for? Does your tooth hurt?

It's my HEAD that hurts!

If you have too much time on your hands, go count the cabbage stock for winter.

Hey—

Are you going or not?

Going where, when the sun hasn't even climbed above the rooftops?

Don't play the fool with me! The city is almost empty. Why do you stay?

Almost means it's not totally empty. Travelers, soldiers on duty, they all need to eat.

Besides, we have someone right here in the restaurant.

She doesn't count!

If you don't go now, there's nothing I can do when the Sui Regulator hears of her visit to this place.

I just put the fowlbeast on the grill, and there are another four or five dishes still to be served. There's no rush.

Oh, you're just—!

Stop worrying so much, first thing in the morning. Go open the door, if you really have too much time on your hands. It's business as usual for breakfast hours!

You're bold as a boulder, you know that?

What else can I do?

If you're sleepy, go to bed. If you're hungry, eat something. Who knows when someone might suddenly miss a certain taste? A customer could show up at any moment—

See? A customer just showed up.

Take a seat you like! Only the breakfast menu is available right now—

Oh, it's you.

What are you doing here?

I'm not sure what you're asking... I run this place. What else would I be doing?

You 'people' just keep getting more and more ridiculous.

Why the rudeness? Insulting the chef before you've taken a single bite?

Keep this up, and I'll kick you out. Even my patience has its limits.

The frosty individual walks into the restaurant and sits down at the table beside Yu.

What flavors does Savors at Yu's savor?

All of them, of course, from sweet to sour to salty to spicy.

And to get the smell of fire and smoke all over yourself... do you like this?

Of course. Can't be a good cook, if you don't like to cook.

I can't speak to anything else, but I'm pretty confident in my cooking.

I could make a couple of dishes for you. On the house.

One has to taste different flavors in life. Isn't it a waste to be obsessed with a single flavor?

Ah... but I guess I can't really use these words to persuade you.

They say, 'he who tells others to forgive and forget will be struck by lightning.' Besides, I guess the bad blood between you is pretty thick.

I understand how you feel. Really!

You have every reason to hate Yan, hate humanity, hate It... and I suppose it's not out of the question for the hatred to last a thousand years.

But if you keep hating and hating, with nothing to do but let the hate destroy you... is it really worth it?

You remind me of my brother, come to think of it...

You're not afraid of me at all.

Why should I be?

Beggars, mandarins, even the gods in Heaven and the Feranmuts of legend, they're all customers when they walk into this restaurant.

You're different from the others...

You're unusual, even among your... kind.

You don't look concerned at all, even when your life is on the line.

*sigh*... I guess I've gotten used to living in fear. It's been this way for a century.

Your timing isn't great, I have to say. You would really have had a treat, if you had come when the ingredients were still fresh in the kitchen.

Sometimes, all it takes to change your mood is a nice, hot meal. Maybe the things that seemed impossible will solve themselves.

The buns are ready, chef, but our breakfast sign is gone! Did Blaze—

There's actually a customer? At this hour?

A Candleholder?

All alone... far too arrogant, you are.

Feeble, ignorant, juvenile... you and these ants.

Her sword is already raised before She has finished Her sentence.

Stop!

Chef—

Like the falling of the judge's gavel, or the crack of thunder in winter.

It is supposed to be a dining table, but it feels like a court of law.