Chapter 225 Ning Fengsheng's Class Notes
While she was sick and asleep?
This intimate painting obviously could not have been made by any other painter - only Nanchuan Shijue, who painted it so vividly that even the mole on her shoulder was carefully depicted.
Ning Fengsheng sat up from the bed. The more he looked at the painting, the more nervous he felt, and he was sweating all over.
There were footsteps outside the room.
She was too familiar with these footsteps, it was Nanchuan Shijue!
The door was suddenly opened, all the lights were turned on, and a large area of light illuminated the living room - a room with luxurious and intricate decorations and filled with extravagant furniture.
Ning Fengsheng lay on his side on the bed, his long eyelashes closed, as if he was asleep.
Nanchuan Shijue walked to the bedside and stared at her coldly for a while: "Do you want to wake up by yourself, or do you want me to wake you up?"
He knew she was pretending to be asleep—
"I'll give you one more chance," Nanchuan Shijue said patiently, "Who are you?"
"You know who I am, why do you keep asking me? It turns out that Young Master Nanchuan not only has menopause and a bad temper, but also has Alzheimer's disease. He forgot what I asked him just yesterday." Ning Fengsheng opened his eyes with a smile.
This tone, this smile, this look, damn it...
Nanchuan Shijue sneered and raised the report in his hand: "You are twins, but you imitate her in every way! Tell me, how should I deal with you?"
“I’m not imitating anyone.”
Nanchuan Shijue's eyes were sinister: "If you are not imitating her, then prove to me that you are her!"
“…”
"On the night of your birthday, I took you to the planetarium, gave you a gift, and made a wish for you. Tell me, and I'll forgive you. Otherwise..." He leaned closer to Ning Fengsheng, his voice cold, "Your death is coming."
Ning Fengsheng shook his head: "I haven't celebrated your birthday yet, how would I know what gifts or wishes to make?"
Nanchuan Shijue laughed in anger: "Well, there is only one fate for a fake..."
"What do you want to do?"
Ning Fengsheng struggled in fear, but was picked up by a big hand and thrown onto the man's tall shoulders.
Nanchuan Shijue's face was grim, like a demon from hell...
Shengsheng, I will never tolerate another you living in this world.
…
The rain was pouring down and the dark night was torn apart by lightning.
The strong wind roared through the manor, tearing the roses in the garden into pieces.
The crimson petals mixed with the rain formed a stream, flowing down the stone steps and merging into the surging sea.
Nanchuan Shijue strode out of the castle carrying Ning Fengsheng on his back. The rain wet his black hair and dripped along his angular jawline.
"Master, what are you doing? It's raining so hard! Miss Si has just recovered from a serious illness..." Moss chased out with an umbrella.
Ning Fengsheng hung upside down on his shoulder, her long hair hanging down and the rain washing her pale face.
Nanchuan Shijue walked down the stone steps until the sea water reached his knees.
The cold sea water slapped against his trousers and the waves splashed on Ning Fengsheng's face.
"Prove you are her," he said, his voice colder than the sea, "and I will let you live."
"How can I prove it..." Ning Fengsheng's voice was very soft, but it was clearly audible in the heavy rain.
Nanchuan Shijue sneered and threw her into the sea.
Ning Fengsheng's body drew an arc and fell heavily into the waves, splashing huge water.
He...really intended to kill her?!
"Watch her," Nanchuan Shijue ordered the bodyguards who arrived, "If you can't give the correct answer, you are not allowed to come up."
The bodyguards blocked the stone stair entrance, and the heavy carved iron door made a dull thud in the rain.
Nanchuan Shijue left without looking back, and the rain flowed down his back like countless tear marks.
Ning Fengsheng struggled to float up from the sea. The salty sea water poured into her nasal cavity, choking her and causing her to cough violently.
The strong wind created huge waves, pushing her towards the sharp reefs again and again.
Her long hair spread out like seaweed, and rose petals blown down by the rainstorm floated around her, deep red as blood.
"Nanchuan Shijue! You lunatic!" She shouted at the receding figure, but her voice was drowned out by the thunder.
The manor was brightly lit, like an isolated island in the darkness.
The towering stone walls stretch along the coastline, clearly separating luxury from wilderness.
There was no entrance except the blocked stone steps.
Ning Fengsheng wiped the sea water off his face, his lungs stinging from the cold.
…
Nanchuan Shijue threw his wet windbreaker to the ground, his eyes filled with murderous intent.
"Master, Miss Si will die..." Moss handed over a dry towel, his voice full of worry.
"She deserves to die!" Nanchuan Shijue slammed his fist on the table, and the table groaned under the weight. "How dare she impersonate Ning Fengsheng and play tricks on me? This woman deserves to die!"
His damn heart ached at the sight of her.
Out of sight, out of mind. If she died, his pain and conflict would end!
He grabbed the stack of information on the table - a record of Ning Fengsheng's whereabouts over the past month, her sudden change in clothing style, and her deliberately imitated mannerisms.
Every page was evidence of her deliberate attempts to get close to him.
"Counterfeits should disappear." He sneered and swept the documents to the ground, and the papers scattered like snowflakes.
A leather notebook slid out from the pile of documents and landed at his feet.
Nanchuan Shijue frowned, picked it up, and opened the first page.
The elegant handwriting caught my eye; it was Ning Fengsheng's class notes.
Densely packed with legal case analysis, with a few essays occasionally interspersed between the lines.
Nanchuan Shijue's fingers suddenly froze - the handwriting was exactly the same as "hers".
His heartbeat suddenly accelerated and he quickly flipped through a few more pages.
Whether it is the cursive writing style in English or the pause habit in Chinese, they all perfectly match the handwriting of the person in my memory.
"Impossible..." He murmured softly, veins throbbing on his forehead.
A piece of sketch paper fell from the notebook.
Nanchuan Shijue bent down to pick it up, and his breathing stopped instantly.
On the paper was a sketch of him - slightly furrowed brows, tightly pursed lips, and eyes that were always full of storms.
The painting style is delicate and vivid, and every stroke seems to be filled with infinite affection.
He had only seen this kind of painting style and this kind of charm in the work of one person.
The paper trembled slightly in his hands.
He turned to the back, and a line of small words stung his eyes:
"Nanchuan Shijue, I love you, very much... How can I describe it? Just like you said, my love for you today is greater than yesterday, but far less than tomorrow..."
Nanchuan Shijue's chest felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer.
A flash of lightning struck outside the window, illuminating his pale face.
Thunder followed closely behind, shaking the crystal chandelier slightly.
"Master!" Moss ran in in panic, "The guards on the East Coast reported that there will be a storm tonight! Miss Si--"
Nanchuan Shijue stood up suddenly, and the sketch paper slipped from his fingers.
His mind was blank, with only one thought crystal clear: he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
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