My Pokémon Story of Seasons

Chapter 323 Fifteen Minutes of Silence

"This is it—"

Tong Hua looked around and knew that this was the deepest part of the dream.

The site of that avalanche that took away the original owner's parents and completely froze the soul of a young boy.

"Bri—" Tibrim also realized what was happening and nervously looked around.

The two looked around for a long time before finally spotting a wooden house with smoke rising from its chimney at the foot of the mountain.

Wow! So much snow!

"Little Tong Hua" stood in front of the house, looking up at the majestic Qiefeng Mountain Range, her little face full of excitement.

The grass turtle followed at his feet, curiously sniffing the scent of the snow.

The foam squirrel excitedly hopped around him, its fluffy tail sweeping up tiny snowflakes.

"Be careful, don't run too fast, the snow is slippery," his mother gently instructed, handing him a thermos.

The father, checking the equipment, smiled and said to the grass turtle and the foam squirrel, "I'll have to ask you two to take good care of this little rascal today."

"Game!" The grass turtle nodded steadily.

"Tsk tsk!" The foam squirrel imitated the little mouse in the cartoon, standing at attention and saluting, which made everyone laugh.

They found a flat patch of snow in a sheltered spot, spread out a picnic blanket, and shared the hot food and soup prepared by their mother.

The Turtwig nibbled on its specially made Pokémon food, while the Foam Squirrel was particularly fond of a berry sandwich.

After dinner, the father took "Little Birch" and Pokémon on a short hike in a safe area nearby, identifying footprints in the snow and explaining some winter wilderness survival tips.

Sunlight shone on the snow, reflecting a dazzling light. The air was crisp and fresh, and the laughter of the family echoed through the valley.

"I really want to graduate soon so I can travel alone."

The boy held his parents' hands, looking at his cheerful Pokémon companions around him, his heart filled with happiness.

The ice field was eerily silent, with only the endless howling of wind and snow.

But in the heart of the snowstorm, Tong Hua and Tibriam saw an unexpected figure.

It was a lonely figure from behind.

He looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old, dressed in heavy mountaineering gear, standing motionless on the edge of the cliff with his back to them.

Yuan gazed down at the bottomless abyss, shrouded in wind and snow.

That's "Little Tong Hua" —

Or rather, it is the most painful memory formed from that traumatic memory.

He didn't cry out, he didn't tremble, he just stood there quietly, as if he had become one with the snow and ice, a part of this desolate landscape.

His back view was so frail it was heartbreaking, as if he could be blown away by the wind at any moment.

"That is—" Tibrim's voice carried a hint of reluctance.

Tong Hua nodded, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her.

Although he had no memory of this before, now that he was standing here in person, gazing at that lonely and desperate figure from the perspective of this body, Tong Hua felt as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping his heart, sending a dull pain through him.

"Dad—Mom—"

Where are you?

That slender figure didn't turn around; instead, facing the wind and snow, he repeated the same words over and over in a broken voice, almost swallowed by the wind.

"Dad—Mom—Where are you—?"

There was no sobbing in her voice, only a numbness and emptiness that came from being completely soaked in despair.

Only the silent wind and snow responded to him.

That endless white seemed to devour all sound, all color, and all hope.

Looking at that figure frozen in a moment of despair, Tong Hua seemed to see the most stubborn scars deep within the soul of that body.

He took a deep breath, and despite knowing it was just a projection of a memory, he stepped forward.

"Watch out, Bree!"

Tibrim reminded him anxiously, staying close by his side.

The closer they got, the stronger the chilling despair that originated from the memories themselves became. Even Tong Hua herself began to feel a stinging pain and numbness, as if her soul was about to freeze.

Finally, he walked up behind that figure, only a few steps away.

"Little Tonghua" seemed oblivious to his approach, still muttering to herself and gazing into the abyss.

Tong Hua reached out, wanting to touch his shoulder, but hesitated at the moment their fingertips were about to make contact.

What should he say? What can he do?

Comforting a long-gone phantom from memory?

Tell him that you have taken over this body and are living a new, hopeful life for him?

How cruel and pale this sounds.

But at that moment, "Little Tong Hua," who had been keeping his eyes tightly closed as if he were drowning in his own pain, slowly and stiffly turned his head.

His face was devoid of tears, only a deathly pale white, his eyes as empty as two deep wells, reflecting the swirling snow and Tong Hua's figure.

His gaze fell on Tong Hua's face, and in those empty eyes, a faint, confused flicker seemed to pass through.

Then he spoke, his voice dry and rough, like sandpaper rubbing together.

"Who are you?"

Those three simple words seemed to have exhausted all his strength, carrying a weariness and detachment that did not belong to a child.

Tong Hua was stunned. He hadn't expected that this projection of memories would "see" him and even speak to him.

"I----

I'm here to save you.

In the end, he chose this answer, speaking as softly as possible, "You've been here—for a long time, haven't you?"

It's cold and lonely, isn't it?

"Little Tong Hua" did not answer, but stared at him with her empty eyes, as if trying to make out something.

After a moment, he shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back to the abyss.

"Mom and Dad are gone."

He spoke in a low voice, his tone chillingly calm, "The grasshopper turtle—the foam squirrel—is gone too. Only I am left—"

I want to see them again.

Tong Hua's heart clenched painfully. Looking at the "self" trapped in his memories, a bold idea sprouted like a spring bud breaking through the ice.

He turned to look at Tibrim, his eyes flashing with determination: "Tibrim, is it possible—that we, here, can give him a different ending?"

"Bree? You mean—rewriting this memory in a dream?"

Tibrim instantly understood Tong Hua's intention, and his eyes lit up under the brim of his hat.

"In theory, this is the depths of your subconscious, which is basically a dream."

If you can realize that you are dreaming, then you should be able to activate the ability of "lucid dreaming," Brie.

In other words, you are invincible in your dreams. Anything you want, Bree!

She looked at the figure still gazing into the abyss, her tone softening: "But this is ultimately just a dream, an illusion, and cannot change the real past that happened, Brie."

For him, it might just be a temporary comfort for Bree.

Even if it's just temporary comfort, even if it's just a dream.

Tong Hua said firmly, "If this can allow him—and 'us'—to catch our breath from this icy landscape, and ease that pain a little, then it's worth a try."

He looked at Xiao Tonghua's lonely figure and said softly, "Consider it a belated gift to my past self."

Tibrim paused for a moment, then nodded, a serious expression appearing on her small face.

"Alright, you idiot Tong Hua, since you've made up your mind—then this girl will go crazy with you, Bree!"

She floated to Tong Hua's side, and her hands began to gather a dazzling blue superpower light—