"Oh, you're still here, grandpa…" Yang Lujia trailed off, his tone laced with a complicated weight. He looked at the old man standing in the doorway, his chest tightening.
Although Reality had already warned him that it remembered who his grandfather really was—and that such a profound existence could not perfectly be duplicated by anyone—the Verdant Archive still managed to stitch this manifestation together.
The memories this fake grandfather carried were exactly—and only—the memories Yang Lujia had shared with the real Zhuquan De before the old man left on his own. Those isolated and nostalgic moments had crafted a frustratingly perfect, albeit limited, fake personality.
Yang Lujia forced a tired smile. "Grandpa, this is Lin Diyu… my new disciple."
