“You’re getting more and more absurd,” the middle-aged man said irritably. “Ma’am, we came here because we trusted you. Why are you feeding us this nonsense?”
“Child, you still don’t understand,” Aunt Tong shook her head. “But it’s alright. The Mother Goddess will forgive you.”
She stretched out her arms in a gesture of embrace: “Zhong Zhen, the Mother Goddess will forgive your sins.”
“You…” The middle-aged man frowned, his expression still torn between belief and doubt.
Since the people here kept claiming they had met before, it wasn’t surprising that she knew his name.
“Why would the ‘God’ want us dead?” the young, delicate-looking man asked.
“Child, you’re mistaken,” Aunt Tong shook her head. “Think carefully. The God isn’t making us die—we were already meant to die.”
“Meant to die?” The crowd remained confused.
“You must remember what happened before you came here. We all died,” Aunt Tong said, raising her head. “We were supposed to die, but the ‘Mother Goddess’ revived us. She isn’t killing us—she’s nurturing us! No matter how many times we die, we will always be reborn anew! The ‘Mother Goddess’ has granted us another form of life!”
Qi Xia felt a chill run down his spine.
What kind of twisted logic was this?
If this “Mother Goddess” truly existed, why did she bring them back here instead of the real world?
And after reviving them, why would she make her followers face death again?
“This is nothing but a cult,” Qi Xia sighed deeply. “Anyone who made it to ‘Paradise Entrance’ alive isn’t a fool. I doubt many would believe her.”
As Qi Xia expected, none of the people present spoke up. Their expressions were uneasy.
Not only did they doubt Aunt Tong, but they also began questioning the “Paradise Entrance” organization itself.
At that moment, a dark-skinned, slender girl raised her hand. “Then why didn’t we go to the underworld after death? Why did we end up here?”
“Because we are sinners,” Aunt Tong explained. “Though I don’t know all of your pasts, I know you must have sinned. We are all here to atone.”
Hearing this, some people slowly furrowed their brows.
“Are you saying we broke the law?” asked Zhong Zhen, the middle-aged man.
“No,” Aunt Tong shook her head. “Just because your life is sinful doesn’t mean you committed crimes. But ultimately, the sins we carry are those that would send us to hell. Spreading discord is a sin. Spreading rumors is a sin. Abandoning love is a sin. Even wasting food is a sin.”
“This lady’s words sound familiar…” Han Yimo whispered to Qi Xia. “When I was writing my book, I researched the eighteen layers of hell. Many of them were designed to punish seemingly trivial offenses—wasting food, sowing discord, spreading rumors… She just mentioned all of them.”
“Really?” Qi Xia gave Han Yimo a puzzled look. This was the first time he’d heard of it.
“But ‘hell’ is a Buddhist concept, isn’t it?” the dark-skinned girl pressed. “Auntie, with all these symbols you’re wearing, what exactly is your faith? Which religion does the ‘Mother Goddess’ belong to?”
“Child, how could the ‘Mother Goddess’ belong to just one religion?” Aunt Tong explained patiently. “She is ‘everything’! All the symbols I wear, every religion in this world—they were all established by the ‘Mother Goddess’! Only by embracing all the faiths she created can I begin to understand her will.”
“But Auntie, no religion in this world was founded by a ‘god.’ Religions were established by people—that’s a historical fact,” the dark-skinned girl retorted bluntly. “If you bothered to research, you’d see the entire development of any religion. Then you wouldn’t say things like this.”
“Child, you’ll understand in time,” Aunt Tong continued with a smile. “If you only believe in one religion, you’ll always encounter things you can’t explain. But if you follow the ‘Mother Goddess,’ everything in this world makes sense.”
Lin Qin nudged Qi Xia lightly with her elbow and asked, “Don’t you find this strange?”
“In what way?” Qi Xia was puzzled—there were too many oddities about this woman.
“I mean, why would Chu Tianqiu bring her into ‘Paradise Entrance’?” Lin Qin mused. “Isn’t this place supposed to be for ‘remarkable people’?”
Qi Xia frowned.
Lin Qin was right. What made this woman so exceptional?
Unless…
Did Chu Tianqiu actually believe her?
**DONG!!**
A deep, resonant bell tolled in the distance.
Qi Xia blinked slowly but quickly refocused on the woman.
None of the people he knew had participated in the game yet, so this “Echoer” was likely not one of them.
“Now, the second lesson of today—what is an ‘Echo’?” Aunt Tong smiled at the crowd.
The audience had no choice but to listen patiently to this second topic.
Aunt Tong briefly explained the timing of the bell’s tolling, which matched what Qi Xia already knew.
The only difference was her claim that the “I” on the screen referred to the “Mother Goddess.”
“‘I’ heard the ‘Echo.'”
Meaning, the “Mother Goddess” heard the “Echo.”
Admittedly, her explanation was airtight for now.
“When we sense the ‘Echo,’ we can temporarily borrow the power of the ‘Mother Goddess.’ She will grant us infinite possibilities.”
Seeing their skepticism, Aunt Tong added, “There’s paper and a pen in front of each of you. Write down any sentence you like. I’ll prove the existence of the ‘Mother Goddess.'”
With that, she turned her back to them, facing the blackboard.
After some murmuring, the crowd reluctantly wrote something down.
Qi Xia and his three companions also had a sheet of paper. After exchanging glances, they handed it to Qi Xia—none of them had anything to say.
A trace of sorrow flickered across Qi Xia’s face. He took the pen, thought for a long moment, and silently wrote: “An, I miss you so much.”
“Now, you may ask me anything,” Aunt Tong said with a smile. “I’ll know what each of you wrote.”
“Bullshit.” Qi Xia was the first to raise his hand. “Ma’am, what did I write?”
Aunt Tong pondered briefly before answering, “You wrote about someone important to you. If I’m not mistaken, it’s ‘An, I want to see you.'”
“Tch.” Qi Xia scoffed. “Close, but not exact. Your ‘Echo’ might need some fine-tuning.”
He picked up the paper to show everyone—only to freeze in shock, his eyes widening.
The words on the paper clearly read: “An, I want to see you.”
The handwriting was unmistakably his own, the ink still fresh.
What the hell?
Had he misremembered?
“Trickster… what’s wrong?” Qiao Jiejin asked, puzzled. “Didn’t she get it right?”
“You… you didn’t see what I wrote earlier?” Qi Xia demanded, his voice tense.
“You wrote exactly that,” the three of them replied in unison, equally confused.
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