Yu Hong understood.
He understood, truly understood the real meaning behind the message Ji left.
Unconsciously, he turned his head and gazed into the depths of the Hei Hei Spirit, where Yiyi sat motionless by the window, reading a book.
Now, all of a sudden, he realized.
That was not really Yiyi.
She was only a figment of his unwilling heart’s imagination.
Because everything that made up Yiyi—the matter, the soul—had long since vanished into the great extinction.
Along with that, Yiyi had completely disappeared into the vast extinction outside, forgotten within the river of oblivion.
That was only a surface phenomenon.
In other words, if he wanted to truly resurrect Yiyi, a complete, genuine resurrection, he would have to control the great extinction of the outside world.
He would need to find all the trace origins that had once composed Yiyi from the great extinction, reproduce them, and only then could he restore Yiyi in full.
A deep sorrow inexplicably welled up in Yu Hong’s heart.
“Of course, you could choose to only revive part of them,” Ji said calmly, continuing to narrate. “But those without memories before the great extinction and without their souls will at best be nothing more than living corpses.”