He stared blankly at Ningguang, as if something was clogging his throat—he tried to breathe, but couldn't draw in a single breath.
The pain was like a swarm of ants gnawing at his heart, leaving his body trembling uncontrollably.
It had been too long...
He had stayed for too long.
He shouldn't have. He should've left earlier...
"Elliot…"
"What's wrong…?"
Seeing how out of sorts he was, Ningguang looked at him with concern.
"It's... nothing…"
"Just a flare-up, like when we first met…"
"Thank you, Ningguang. I really love it…"
"Give me a moment… I need to meditate. Just need to suppress the symptoms…"
He gently set the box down, stepped outside, leapt onto the roof, and sat down cross-legged.
Even the Calming Mantra was useless.
He couldn't bring himself to focus on it. All he could feel was the pain—sharp, suffocating pain.
He could sense it—tomorrow would be the day he had to leave.
Why did it have to be tonight... the night marking a year since they met?
Had a whole year already passed?
Time had flown far too quickly.
Elliot had given his all every day, doing everything he could to teach Ningguang as fast as possible.
But some things couldn't be rushed. They had to be realized, understood, and internalized by Ningguang herself.
Over the past year, he had taken her to at least ten business negotiations, walking her through countless real scenarios to teach her how to handle the veterans of the trade.
But it still wasn't enough. And somehow, without even realizing it, a year had passed.
Part of him suspected the system had done this deliberately.
But he wasn't in the mood to question it. He only felt overwhelmed. Deeply, painfully overwhelmed.
He sat there for a long while before he finally managed to steady himself.
...
"Elliot, are you feeling better?" Ningguang came over, worried.
"Yeah, I'm alright now." He smiled gently, brushing her hair with his hand.
"Thank you for the gift. I really love it."
"You're a kind and thoughtful child, Ningguang. Meeting you was my good fortune too."
"I'm sorry I didn't prepare a gift for you."
Ningguang quickly waved her hands. "No, no! You don't have to apologize, Elliot. Just having you with me is the best gift I could ever ask for."
"Well then… go wash up for dinner. After we eat, I'll brew some tea with the set you gave me."
Ningguang nodded excitedly, then joined him for dinner.
As always, Elliot filled her bowl with all kinds of dishes.
"Elliot, your cooking is amazing!"
"As long as you like it. Eat more—you're still growing."
"Mhm! You eat more too!"
...
After dinner, Ningguang cleaned up and used the tea set she'd gifted him to brew a pot of tea.
The tea set was a deep black with a refined texture. It was smooth and pleasant to the touch, and the tea brewed in it carried an even richer, more lingering aroma—enhanced by the special material used to craft it.
It was obvious she had spent a good amount of Mora on it.
Elliot took a light sip, and Ningguang's eyes widened in anticipation, clearly waiting for his feedback.
"Ningguang."
"Hm? What do you think, Elliot?"
"This tea set… must've cost quite a bit, right?"
"As long as you like it, it's worth every Mora." She smiled confidently.
"This set really does bring out the full flavor of the tea. It's wonderfully fragrant. Thank you. I truly love it."
"But silly girl… earning money is hard for you, and you spent so much on this. Don't do that again next time, alright?"
Elliot first praised the gift and only then offered his gentle advice—so he wouldn't hurt her feelings.
When children spend a lot of effort and money on a gift, what they really want is to see you smile, to hear your praise.
If all you say is, "What a waste," or "You could've done something better with your time," you'll only crush their spirit—and they might never try again.
"I know, hehe. Elliot, drink some more." She refilled his cup with care.
...
Time passed quickly, and soon Ningguang drifted off to sleep.
Elliot took out a piece of paper and a pen, climbed to the rooftop, and began writing his final words.
There wasn't much he needed to say, but every stroke of the pen felt like a blade cutting through him.
It took a long time—but eventually, he finished.
Back in the room, Ningguang was sleeping soundly.
He gently pulled her blanket up—it was already autumn after all.
Then he set the note and pen aside, picked up the tea set she had given him, and quietly stepped outside.
...
"I'm sorry…"
"I'll be back… wait for me…"
He carefully closed the door behind him—and left.