Chapter 263

Xu Xi was moved to a different treatment area.

When he woke up, Ailei had already carried him from the cold, rigid medical pod to a soft bed.

Crossing wires and densely packed instruments surrounded the bed, providing the last traces of support to keep his fragile life burning.

This was Ailei’s doing.

Even with overwhelming guilt and sorrow, she still insisted on trying to save him.

To save that person.

To hold onto that light.

To keep that odd man—who arbitrarily named machines yet wanted to irresponsibly disappear—by her side forever.

“Master must take responsibility for Ailei.”

“Because of Master, Ailei has become strange.”

“Because of Master, Ailei cannot remain calm.”

“This is Master’s fault, so Master must take responsibility and cannot leave at will.”

Before the sickbed, the man’s condition worsened. His face was pale and thin, his fingers long and frail, and his body entangled with countless life-support tubes.

Seeing Xu Xi like this was unbearable.

Hating her own helplessness was even worse.

Ailei’s voice trembled deeply, as if she were a wingless bird that had fallen, completely lost.

She lowered her head, not daring to meet those familiar, gentle eyes.

As a loyal machine, she had disobeyed her master’s command.

She could not forgive herself.

The damaged side of her face, revealing exposed alloy beneath, silently cried out in despair.

But Xu Xi wasn’t angry.

Once again, he leaned weakly against the bed and reached out his trembling hand.

Accompanied by his tired yet warm voice, he gently held Ailei’s fingers.

“Sorry, Ailei… Even at a time like this, I’m still troubling you to take care of me.”

…

[You didn’t stop Ailei’s attempts to keep you alive.]

[You clearly understand.]

[Forcing your loyal attendant to end your life is something unbearably difficult for her.]

[If your roles were reversed, if Ailei pleaded with you, you wouldn’t have the heart to make such a decision either.]

[Therefore, you respected Ailei’s choice.]

[You no longer asked her to turn off the life-support machines.]

[Lying on the sickbed, your consciousness slowly faded away, your mind gradually unraveling toward its inevitable end.]

[The machines running 24/7 could only delay death, not cure you.]

[Ailei realized this.]

[She tried every possible method, pushing her computational capacity to its limit in hopes of prolonging your life.]

“Ailei, how are things today?”

“…”

“I see… still working hard, huh? You’re doing great.”

“…”

“Mmm, I’m fine.”

“…”

Failure after failure, setback after setback.

No matter what methods she tried, none could restore Xu Xi’s body or reignite his fading soul.

The fire of his life was dying out, beyond anyone’s ability to stop it.

Ailei couldn’t change this fate.

She could only watch him grow weaker, hunched over in pain, suffering between life and death.

As time passed, Xu Xi’s pain deepened, and Ailei’s self-blame grew heavier.

“It’s okay, Ailei. Don’t worry about me.”

Lying in bed, his face pale as a sheet of paper, every breath was a struggle. It seemed he could faint at any moment.

And yet…

Even in such a state, he still forced a smile to comfort her, reassuring Ailei and telling her not to blame herself.

I’m sorry…

I’m sorry…

Ailei’s mechanical body trembled violently.

Another failed experiment.

She returned to Xu Xi’s bedside and looked at his familiar but increasingly vacant eyes.

Listening to his familiar, gentle reassurances.

At last…

The sorrow buried deep within her data overflowed beyond its limits.

“…I’m sorry, Master.”

“Because of my incompetence… you’ve suffered too much pain.”

Ailei could no longer endure it.

She couldn’t bear seeing him suffer like this.

Every word of comfort from him was like an invisible blade, cutting deeper into her guilt-ridden core.

With a trembling voice, she asked why he never ordered her, firmly, to turn off the life-support machines.

By hierarchy, Xu Xi was Ailei’s creator.

He held the highest authority.

By emotion, Xu Xi was the most important person in her existence.

If he asked repeatedly, no matter how much it hurt, she would eventually comply.

But he never did.

Since the first time she refused his request, he had never brought it up again.

That weak and helpless demeanor confused her.

“Because… if I did that, Ailei would be sad.”

There was no sunlight in the escape pod.

The pale artificial lights above cast down on his nose and his hollow eyes.

Suppressing the discomfort in his weakening body, he smiled and explained gently to Ailei.

There was no special reason.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the pain.

It was simply because…

He didn’t want Ailei to be sad.

“But… but you—”

The artificial air circulation ruffled Ailei’s bangs, blurring her vision.

Her once calm, silver-blue eyes now reflected a new, layered depth within their chaotic confusion.

All the sorrow.

All the grief.

All displayed vividly on her lifelike synthetic face, as if she were truly human.

She never learned how to hide or endure emotions.

Since the days of RTX-9090, Ailei had always expressed herself so openly.

“But you’re in so much pain…”

Her voice trembled and cracked.

If not for the lack of tears, her expression at this moment would be indistinguishable from a grieving human.

The overwhelming sorrow contorted her delicate features, making them seem on the verge of collapsing.

The once emotionless machine now possessed human feelings.

Yet the human was slowly fading into nothingness.

The contrast was too cruel to accept.

She couldn’t accept it.

“It’s okay, Ailei.”

Xu Xi reached out his frail, trembling hand and gently placed it on her head.

Using the little strength he had left, he offered her a sense of reassurance.

“This… has nothing to do with you.”

“I’ve thought about many things during this time.”

His voice was as faint as a dying breath, disappearing into the air.

Like falling leaves, silent and unnoticed.

Like gentle rain, quiet yet persistent.

Along with the hoarse, dry rasp in his throat.

“We’ve been together for a long time now, haven’t we?”

Xu Xi tried to smile, but for a body that was nearing its end, even that was impossible.

The moment his lips curled slightly, a violent cough seized him.

“Cough… cough…”

“Cough, cough, cough!”

“Master—”

Ailei moved instantly, helping him sit up, soothing his labored breathing.

“I’m fine, Ailei,” Xu Xi whispered, shaking his head.

His body felt weaker.

The pain was sharper.

He struggled against the darkness threatening to consume him, forcing himself to stay awake and meet Ailei’s worried gaze.

“Ailei, time really flies… From the moment we met in that underground lab… It’s been over seven hundred years now.”

“…So fast…”