Brother, can you tell me why this is happening?
Simon didn't know.
Zhao Lingling's wife has been dead for hundreds of years. How can a living person know what a dead person is thinking?
Since we can't know what the dead are thinking, we can only speculate based on the living. This is also a common trick used by psychiatrists - using their own countertransference to understand the patient's world.
This might sound a bit technical, but to put it simply: we're all human, and how I feel about you is likely how others feel about you. So, based on how I feel about you, I can infer what your life is like and what challenges you're facing.
So Simon said honestly, "Junior sister... well, never mind calling me that. I had a crush on you for a while."
Zhao Lingling started to smile. Her smile was particularly beautiful, gentle and cute, without a trace of unhappiness.
Simon found the junior sister's reaction a bit strange. He continued, "So, how do you feel about me now?"
Zhao Lingling blinked, thought for a moment and said, "It's impossible for us."
Huh? Simon quickly realized that the junior sister had avoided his question.
So Simon decided to hold on to it: "You're not upset when you hear me say that?"
Zhao Lingling shook her head.
Simon was a little unwilling: "Don't you think I'm disgusting?"
Zhao Lingling continued to shake his head, with a smile on his lips. He didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with his senior brother, a grown man, having a crush on him.
Simon continued, "So, even if you imagine my male paramedic now, you won't feel disgusted or disgusted?"
Zhao Lingling propped up his head with his hands. He didn't find anything disgusting, so he thought for a moment and said, "My senior brother's must be bigger than mine."
Then his face flushed slightly, and he complained a little embarrassedly: "Don't talk about this, I'm a monster, you're a human, and we're both men, it's impossible! Brother, don't think about it!"
Simon thought for a moment and then asked seriously, "Tell me, how many times a week did you and your wife have sex?"
Zhao Lingling immediately understood what Simon meant. He stood up with a swish and turned around anxiously, still angry. "Don't say it! I know what you're thinking! I'm not, I hate homosexuality the most! It's simply... so disgusting!"
Simon said, "You didn't answer my question."
Zhao Lingling said: "You're wrong! That's not it!"
Simon said, "You didn't answer my question, how many times a week?!"
Zhao Lingling suddenly became depressed. She sat down dejectedly and said, "I have never done anything with a man. Of course, apart from my wife, I have never done anything with a woman... I am not..."
Simon said, "Don't you dare answer my question?"
Zhao Lingling looked at the darkness in the distance in despair, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water about to die.
Zhao Lingling said, "At first... in the first month after we got married, it was about once a week. Later... maybe once every month or two months... maybe even less... I can't remember..."
Zhao Lingling lowered her head weakly, put her hands into her hair, and sighed in her heart.
From the time he married at sixteen to the time he left home at twenty-three, his greatest joy was studying. As for romance—he had no interest in it. More than just disinterest, it was a real headache! Sometimes he even felt that his wife was great in every way except in bed… if only she were a little more virtuous!
Simon didn't say anything, picked up the kettle beside him and poured a glass of water for his junior sister.
Simon said, "You know, this isn't normal."
Yes, of course it is abnormal. A young man with a wife, who is at the peak of his sexual life, has no interest in his wife.
Maybe it was because his wife looked ordinary, but after ten years away from home, he had seen all kinds of beautiful women. He didn't even struggle to resist the temptation.
Simon thought about it and understood his wife's heart.
A woman who is treated like this by her husband must feel hatred in her heart.
She must have hated him to the bone, because she couldn't express any of her grievances. If her husband really fell in love with someone else, with a beautiful young girl, she could point a rolling pin at his nose and call him "Chen Shimei" and "shameless."
If her husband truly was incapable of sex, she could accept her fate. At least she could complain to her mother-in-law and her family. But she already had two children. What good would it do to tell others about this, other than proving she was incompetent and unable to win over such a good man?
Besides—how can I say?
Besides, she really didn't know where she went wrong, let alone why!
He studied hard, he wanted to gain fame and honor, and he finally returned home in glory.
But she doesn't need any of this. She just wants to be with him, to be by his side in heart.
Who cares about your status as the top scholar in the imperial examination? Who cares about your unique appearance?
What's the point of being a scholar if you have been away for ten years and never returned home?
What's the use of Liuxia Hui when he has never looked into her eyes after being married for many years?
I would rather find a philandering man, at least his love for me is true.
At least I can hold my rolling pin and yell, "You are such an ungrateful person."
The most terrifying thing in the world is not betrayal, nor is it a broken heart. It's that everyone says you're the perfect husband, but I'm the only one who knows the bitterness.
Zhao Lingling left in a daze.
He never thought it was because of this.
He never thought it was because of this.
Aren't husband and wife supposed to support each other and care for each other? Love and companionship are not important.
At this moment, she happened to pass by a mirror on the corner of the street, and the mirror reflected the figure of a pretty girl.
The girl smiled at the mirror, her eyes shining like stars in the sky. Her ponytail was a little messy, and a few strands of hair fell on her forehead, adding a touch of charm.
Zhao Lingling touched her face, feeling a little dazed.
Hundreds of years have passed, and I didn't even realize that I actually like men.
Hundreds of years have passed, and although she has a beautiful face like a flower, she has never had any real physical contact with anyone. It's such a waste of this good-looking body.
Zhao Lingling sighed in her heart and walked forward.
At this moment, the morning light is dim and the streets are still dark, but the sky is already blue.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind Zhao Lingling: "Beautiful lady, why are you walking alone at night so early in the morning?"
Zhao Lingling turned around and saw a boy standing about a meter behind her. Calling him a boy might not be the right word, because although the man was young, looking only in his early twenties, he was tall and strong, with thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a strong build. It would be more appropriate to call him a big man than a boy.
Zhao Lingling suddenly understood why he couldn't forget his wife. His wife had been born like that too. As a woman, she was indeed a bit ugly. But as a man, she was magnificent.
He felt a little bitter, yet a little happy.
He felt as if something was flowing down at this moment, and he casually shook the tears that fell on the back of his hand aside.
Hundreds of years have passed, and there is no need to dwell on things that are hard to understand.
Zhao Lingling saw a black cat that seemed to catch his tears, but he didn't care. He just wanted to know what he really liked!
So he said, "Yeah, I just broke up with my boyfriend. His wife is so fierce. She wanted to find someone to beat me up. Luckily, I ran away quickly. You..."
When she said this, Zhao Lingling's voice became weaker: "Can you help me?"
The burly boy opened his arms and said, "It's okay. I'll make sure no one can bully you for the rest of your life!"
Zhao Lingling felt something in her heart and leaned towards the boy's shoulder involuntarily, but unexpectedly the boy grabbed Zhao Lingling's shoulder.
Zhao Lingling felt a powerful force pressing down on her. The seemingly ordinary boy's hands seemed to emit a dazzling light. Before she could figure out what was happening, her vision went black and she completely lost consciousness.
And on this street, the boy looked at the cloth bag in his hand with satisfaction, with a smile on his face.
"I've been following this monster for a long time, and today I finally conquered it!" The boy put the cloth bag into his backpack, zipped it up, and continued walking forward, looking around as he walked.
Finally, he stopped at the door of a youth hostel called "Zhuangse".
The boy took out a golden compass from his backpack, opened it and saw that the compass needle was spinning wildly.
"What's going on?!" The boy scratched his head. "I calculated there was a monster here, but the compass my master passed down to me isn't working right now."
The boy said as he walked into the youth hostel. At the entrance, the owner, who had just woken up, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and said, "ID card!"
So the boy opened his backpack again, took out his ID card and handed it over.
The boy's name on the ID card is: Yue Ai
As the boss entered the boy's ID card into the system, he said, "Your name is quite interesting!"
Yue Ai said: "My parents gave it to me, I can't help it. When I was little, people always called me Ai Ai, which was a real trauma for me."
The boss nodded, gave a few instructions, handed the room card and deposit slip to Yue Ai, and then began a busy day.
Yue Ai picked up her backpack, walked through the front hall and came to the yard.
It was still early and foggy. There was no one in the yard, only the big locust tree in the middle of the yard rustling in the morning breeze.
Yue Ai raised her eyes and looked around the yard.
A courtyard that was neither too big nor too small. A few stone tables and chairs. This scene was strangely familiar.
In particular, the young man sitting in a straw hut.
The young man was wearing a white shirt inside and a jacket outside, looking gentle and clean-cut. He was sitting in front of a coffee table with a book on it.
On this foggy morning, this elegant and clean-cut young man was studying, his expression serious and his whole body absorbed.
Yue Ai felt her heart skip a beat for no reason. Why did this scene look so familiar?
He wanted to walk up to the young scholar and say a few words to him, but for some reason, as he got closer, a dull pain in his heart prevented him from taking even half a step forward.
Yue Ai stood there, looked at the young man sitting in the straw hut for a while, then turned and walked towards her room.
Besides slaying demons and monsters along the way, he had a more important mission to attend to. He was entrusted by his master to find his great-grandfather. So, until he found his great-grandfather, he should avoid causing any trouble.
Yue Ai went to her room and took out the portrait of her master's grandfather from her backpack.
It was a scroll, the painting was quite old, and the paper had turned yellow, but this did not affect the exquisiteness of the painting at all.
The painting depicts a young man wearing a purple Taoist robe, holding a whisk, with an air of immortality. The lines are exquisite, and there is an indescribable aura.
Yue Ai sighed: "Master Zibai, I have been looking for you for a long time. Where are you?"
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