Daoist882016

They say systems make you stronger. His only records what he protects.

Ye Han awakened late. Too late to fight monsters. Too late to join the guilds. Too late to matter.

But when a nameless girl reaches for his hand—something changes. His system activates.

[Warden’s Ledger – Page 1 Created.]  
Entry: “Unspoken Child”  
Status: Stabilized  
Duration: 00:00:03

His system doesn’t grant skills. It doesn’t offer power.

It remembers.

For every soul he protects, every broken thing he shelters, the Ledger writes their story. But some stories refuse to stay quiet. And some children come with echoes even the world has forgotten.

Now, with a child in his arms and an open Page glowing behind his eyes, Ye Han walks back into a world that long stopped needing him.

Whether it wants him or not... he’ll remember what it chose to forget.

The System That Remembers What the World Forgot

Lian left before the morning fully settled.

She didn't say goodbye. Just placed the empty pouch on the well where the shard had cracked, glanced once at Ye Han, and walked toward the east gate with her coat wrapped tight.

Yaya watched her go from the bakery step, swinging her legs.

"She should've stayed for breakfast," she mumbled. "Granny Wen's soup has carrots today."

Ye Han didn't respond. He was still watching the space Lian had occupied, as if the air hadn't quite remembered she was gone.

The pouch was still there, soft leather folded open. A sliver of silver thread clung to the inside lining.

Ye Han reached down to pick it up.

The moment his fingers brushed the leather, a flicker rippled across his vision—

[Residual Emotional Field Detected – Source: Lian]

It passed through him like breath caught mid-step. Not pain. Just... weight.

By the time they walked to Granny Wen's hut, the sky had brightened into that dusty gold Qingye always wore at the edges.

"Did she go to find her brother?" Yaya asked.

"She went to bury him," Ye Han said, not unkindly.

Yaya blinked. "But she didn't have a shovel."

They passed the town board on the way down.

Yaya tugged at his sleeve. "What's that say?"

Ye Han scanned the notice tacked to the side:

[ISA REPORT – Qingye District]

[Echo Distortion Cases: Under Review]

Yaya leaned forward, squinting. "Does grief make monsters?"

But a folded note lay on the low table beside the hearth, held down with a flat riverstone.

Ye Han opened it without speaking.

[You stirred something. ISA passed through the western checkpoint this morning asking about unregulated pulses.

Tell the child not to wander too far from your side.]

There was no signature. Just a pressed leaf sealed into the bottom corner.

Later that afternoon, near the base of the bell tower, Ren found Ye Han tightening the fence around the old well.

"You felt it too, right?" Ren asked.

Ye Han didn't look up. "The shard?"

"No. The moment before it. That silence that tastes like metal."

Ren leaned his back against the post, arms folded.

"You're not the only one this town watches."

He let that settle before continuing. "You know, there's a man in Kalus who tried to hold too many echoes. Not ledger pages—*echoes*. His system buckled. Got buried under their memories."

Ren's voice softened. "Guess that one's not in your book."

That night, as the square dimmed and the lamplight curled toward sleep, Ye Han sat by the window and opened the Ledger.

It flickered softly now when he looked at it—not from light, but from memory.

[Warden's Ledger – Status: Active]

[Next Stabilization Threshold: Undisclosed]

He closed it without reading further.

And somewhere deeper, something else answered.

Not with a bark. Not with a voice.

Just a long, slow breath... right behind the wall.

Echoes Left Behind