Better to die cleanly than live like this.
After countless days of suffering, Chen Youzai at last saw the truth. He would never recover the silver coin. To endure on meant a lifetime of misery ending in regret.
Let it end.
He closed his eyes slowly and placed his tongue between his teeth, preparing to bite down with all his strength.
Yet at the final moment, he faltered. His jaw trembled uncontrollably. The instinct to live overpowered him; he lacked the resolve to end his life. A primal fear of death forced him back once more.
Days passed.
The heat grew ever more oppressive. His face felt tighter, more wrinkled by the day. One night, he touched it in secret. The skin was shriveled, uneven.
Was it the relentless sun? Or had the original owner of this body truly earned the title of “most handsome in the world” with such a face?
His sole remaining wish was to see himself clearly.
If he was to die, at least let him know whether coming here had meant anything.
There were no mirrors here. Not even water. They gnawed on rotten roots for moisture. Urination was rare; even when a pitiful trickle came, it evaporated in less than a breath.
One day, weakened beyond measure, he fainted three times. Each time, he was beaten awake. The place was like the Flaming Mountains—perhaps even this final wish would go unfulfilled.
With trembling hands, he picked up a stone nearby and smashed it toward his own head.
But he lacked the strength. The stone merely thudded against his brow and rolled aside.
He could not even muster the force to bite his tongue now.
He closed his eyes in despair as fresh pain exploded across his body.
Go on. Beat me as you please. This time, do not revive me. I do not wish to live.
Yet Heaven did not heed him.
He awoke once more—and astonishingly, strength surged through him. He leapt to his feet, energy brimming in his limbs. Touching himself in disbelief, he found no pain anywhere.
Unaware that seven days had passed, he marveled at the change.
More curious still—though he remained in the same place, everyone else was gone.
After long thought, he reached a conclusion.
Back-to-the-light before death…
His mother had once told him that on the day before death, the dying often experienced a sudden return of vigor—their illnesses vanished, and they felt no pain. His own grandfather had risen from his sickbed and taken a few steps in such a moment.
Realizing this, Chen Youzai’s lips curved into a bitter smile.
Very well.
Had he not wished for death before? If King Yama now summoned him, it spared him the trouble.
Futile Devices Scans 
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