Chapter 53
Time, in Li Muxue's chaotic world, had long lost its clear measure. Spring turned to autumn, summer to winter, but to her, it was merely the shifting of light and shadow outside the window, the changing temperature of the air. She lived in a hazy mist, a mist that isolated her from real pain and distorted the true nature of reality. In that world she had woven for herself, Xu Chen never left. He would eat with her, sit with her in quiet contemplation, and when she was disturbed by fragments of memory, he would soothe her with those tender eyes that only she could see.
For over a year, her physical body was carefully cared for by her parents, but her soul drifted in a strange space. Sometimes she would mutter to herself at an empty chair, sometimes she would listen intently, as if responding to questions from someone unseen. To others, she appeared completely insane, a flower withering and decaying from within. Her world lacked Shen Haoyu, the horrific violence, and even… the sharp pain of Xu Chen's death was blurred. All that remained was a stagnant sorrow, softened by hallucinations.
However, even the hardest truth, no matter how thickly shrouded in mist, will eventually be revealed through the disguise.
It was an unusually quiet afternoon. Sunlight streamed gently across the floor of the room. As usual, Li Muxue sat on the old sofa by the window, covered with the gray sweater that Xu Chen used to love wearing, the one she had knitted for him over three months. The faint, lingering scent of him on the sweater was the key to her world of illusions, sustaining her through countless days and nights.
Suddenly, a sharper, more real sting pierced her confused consciousness without warning. It was like a long-buried, rusted steel needle that, in an unexpected moment, broke free from the wrapping of flesh and blood and plunged into the softest part of her heart.
Her body then trembled violently.
The familiar, softly lit mist before him seemed to have been ripped open by an invisible hand. From within the crack, clear, blood-stained images surged forth one after another—
That wasn't Xu Chen's gentle smile, but Shen Haoyu's face, twisted with jealousy and violence!
That wasn't the warm sunset in Dongling Park, but the nauseating, eerily rotating lights in a karaoke room!
That wasn't Xu Chen's whispered words as he watched over her at her bedside, but rather his scarlet eyes, ignited by the fires of hell!
Finally, there was the most cruel and unbearable scene for her: Xu Chen lay on the cold road, with a large pool of dark red, viscous blood beneath him, his life rapidly draining from his young body... And all of this pointed to the same name—Shen Haoyu!
"ah--!"
A very short, sharp cry escaped her throat, only to be swallowed back down by biting her lip tightly. Her pupils contracted instantly, then dilated sharply. The mental barrier that had enveloped her for over a year, protecting and imprisoning her, collapsed under the violent impact of this series of fragmented memories!
After the dust settled, what was revealed was not confusion, but a chilling, chillingly clear, and terrifyingly lucid understanding.
Xu Chen is dead.
His death was not accidental.
He was killed by Shen Haoyu!
This realization, like a red-hot blade, pierced her newly regained consciousness with a cruel, sizzling sound. A surge of intense grief and indignation, more than a year overdue, engulfed her like a tsunami, almost suffocating her. But even stronger than the grief and indignation was a volcanic eruption of hatred, welling up from the deepest recesses of her heart, enough to incinerate everything!
The phantom Xu Chen before her eyes still existed, only with a different identity, transforming from a living being of flesh and blood into a wandering soul, but his love for her remained unchanged!
The hatred in her mind was so pure, so intense, that it almost had a physical form. It dispelled the last wisp of chaotic mist in her mind and froze the tears that were about to gush forth. Her body stopped trembling and instead fell into an unusual, deathly calm. Only her eyes, once brimming with innocence and love, were now like two bottomless, icy pools, churning with dark, destructive whirlpools.
She slowly lowered her head, looking at the gray sweater she was clutching tightly in her hands. It once held his warmth, his scent, all their beautiful memories. And now, Shen Haoyu had destroyed it all. Utterly, cruelly, irrevocably destroyed.
The room was silent, the sunlight was still warm, but the air was as cold as an icebox.
A single thought, like a poisonous sprout breaking through the soil in the darkness, with absolute and undeniable power, grew wildly and spread in her mind, instantly becoming the birch tree in Dongling Park, its branches entangling her entire consciousness—
Kill him! Kill Shen Haoyu! That hideous demon who tore apart her innocence, youth, love, and even the life of her beloved Xu Chen!
The thought itself was not accompanied by angry roars or excited trembling. It appeared so naturally, so calmly, as if it were not something she "thought" out, but a destiny that had been preordained and was only now being awakened. Just as one drinks when thirsty or eats when hungry, it became her sole and ultimate reason for existing.
The past year or so of chaos felt like a long hibernation. What awakens now is no longer the young Li Muxue, nourished by love, but an empty shell reshaped by hatred, existing only for revenge. Those hallucinations, that madness, were perhaps her fragile heart's defense mechanism, activated by the successive blows. But now, that defense mechanism has failed, revealing a core of steel tempered by despair and hatred.
She realized that Xu Chen's phantom had lingered with her not merely because of her longing, but because his vengeful spirit, which had never truly departed, was waiting in the shadows for her to awaken, waiting for her to take up the axe of revenge. He could not rest in peace, and she could not live on alone. Their love had been eternally frozen by tragedy and death, and the only thing that could commemorate this love was Shen Haoyu's blood!
She gently stroked the old sweater, her eyes vacant as she stared at the bright world outside the window. In that world, the sun shone brightly, people lived normal lives, as if all the tragedies had never happened. But none of that mattered to her. From the moment she regained consciousness, her life was utterly simplified, her goals terrifyingly clear.
She stopped crying, stopped feeling sad. A strange, cold calm enveloped her. She carefully and calmly began to conceive a plan in her mind. Not a bloody scene, not a violent image, but a necessary step in a "cleaning up." Like sweeping away filth from a room, like pulling out poisonous weeds from a garden. Shen Haoyu was that "mistake" and "filth" that had to be thoroughly and cleanly removed. This was her explanation to Xu Chen, and also a final, distorted explanation to her own fragmented life.
Li Muxue slowly stood up and walked to the mirror. The mirror reflected a pale, thin face, but with eyes as sharp as knives. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt as if she were looking at a stranger, or perhaps as if she were seeing Xu Chen's reflection in her eyes.
The seed of revenge had been sown; in the barren field of her heart, it would be the only, eerie, and deadly flower to bloom. She took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill her lungs, bringing with it an almost cruel power.
Dusk was approaching, and the light was beginning to dim. Li Muxue stood by the window, her shadow stretched long by the setting sun, like a resolute ghost about to plunge into darkness. She knew what she had to do. That path was destined for hell, but she had no other choice, and she was determined to go. Because it was her only remaining way to connect with Xu Chen in another world…
(To be continued)
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