Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Meng Yingying tried her best to shrink herself in and minimize her presence, but her back would always bump into his, and his back was very cold.
It's very hot these days, and she unconsciously wants to get closer. After that Easter egg, Meng Yingying discovered that the paper doll Shang Mang she had imagined was actually very unrealistic compared to the real Shang Mang. Shang Mang wanted to end his life when he was young, and he hadn't lived for very long. His mother's frightened eyes and the darkness in the hearts of countless people meant that he lived in the darkness and couldn't bear the light, so he couldn't grow into a tall and upright tree.
That's how the author set it up.
"Don't try to take advantage of me," Shang Mang suddenly said.
Meng Yingying paused, then muttered, "Who's taking advantage of you? I should be the one saying that." She shrank back, almost pressing herself against the wall. Shang Mang, observing closely in the darkness, noticed that no one in the class could hear her. He pointed at her shoulder, but there was no response. He peeked out and saw that her face was calm, her breathing very soft, unusually docile, like a cat sound asleep. Shang Mang reached out his hand, paused in mid-air, and then quickly withdrew it.
"Why would I want to touch her? I should want to kill her." Shang Mang touched the ring on his index finger and looked at her face. She had done so many things and was always the best at lying.
A complete and utter little liar.
The air was thick with the smell of blood, the fog was thick and lingered, and there were no pedestrians on the road, only piles of corpses.
He finally killed the emperor, occupied the entire Lin'an, and no one dared to challenge him anymore. Shang Mang stepped over mountains of corpses and reached the summit.
The man in white appeared out of nowhere, brandishing his sword to kill him, his tone incredibly arrogant: "Dare to show yourself before me? Are you prepared to have your soul annihilated?"
Shang Mang sneered and casually waved the killing weapon in his hand, leaving the white-clad man covered in wounds.
He always enjoyed watching people suffer, so Shang Mang didn't kill him directly. Instead, he slowly smiled sinisterly at him and said, "Come and take it."
"Aren't you very capable?"
After spitting out a mouthful of blood, the man in white picked up his sword again.
When the silver whip clashed with the sword, a vibrant sword intent burst forth.
A pale yellow figure descended from the sky, landing beside the man in white. The girl's face was covered in blood, having emerged from the battle, her eyes shining brightly.
She helped the man in white to his feet and glanced at him.
Shang Mang tilted his head and lashed out with his whip.
The girl activated the spell and vanished in an instant.
The next day, the man in white came again, sword in hand. Though his posture was unsteady, his expression remained cold: "Ghost Child, let's fight again."
So they started fighting again, and the girl from yesterday reappeared. This time she wielded her sword, but her swordsmanship was not skillful and was full of mistakes.
However, it was all to distract him, so she made a talisman and left.
They took him away again.
Shang Mang learned the name of the man in white; his name was Zhou Xiuqi.
He led a group of Taoist priests to deliver a challenge to him, declaring his intention to kill and annihilate him.
How ridiculous that these people want to kill him because he is a demon.
He accepted the challenge.
One day, the pale yellow figure reappeared beneath the mountain of corpses and said, "Could you please not kill Zhou Xiuqi?"
Shang Mang didn't even bother to look at her, nor did he bother to kill her. If someone wanted to kill him, he would definitely kill that person.
“No.” He grinned.
"My name is Meng Yuan. What's your name?" she asked him.
Shang Mang was in a daze; no one had asked his name in a long time.
Kasser's throat tightened, his eyes fixed on her: "Shang Mang."
"Why did you kill him?" she asked again. Shang Mang felt annoyed; she had so many questions.
"I'm happy," he replied casually.
Her red eyes looked away.
Meng Yuan stared at him for a long time.
Shang Mang was filled with an inexplicable rage. He glared at her fiercely and said, "Stare at me, don't you want your eyes anymore?"
Meng Yuan suddenly smiled, as if she couldn't hold back her laughter and burst into laughter.
Frustrated, Shang Mang rushed down, raised his hand, and swung his whip, wrapping it around her neck.
Meng Yuan's neck was constricted, making it difficult for her to breathe, but a trace of a smile still lingered in her eyes.
"Shang Mang, are you going to kill me?"
Shang Mang gripped the killing blade tightly, a cold glint flashing in his blood-red eyes: "What makes you think I won't kill you?"
Meng Yuan blushed and said, "You're not happy? I was happy just now."
I watched as she suffocated little by little.
Shang Mang still didn't let go: "What are you so happy about?"
Meng Yuan looked at him sadly: "You're still alive...isn't that something to be happy about?"
Upon hearing this, Shang Mang suddenly sneered and released Sha Du.
You idiot, what's so great about being alive?
Meng Yuan lay on the ground, coughing violently and gasping for air.
He chuckled softly, "I'm glad you didn't kill me."
From that day on, this person, like something else, clung to him.
She came to see him every day, and he scolded and threatened her, but it was no use. She was like a blade of grass, running towards whichever wind blew.
But no one could keep an eye on her.
The day before the decisive battle, Shang Mang walked out of the street and saw her at the street corner. She looked at Zhou Xiuqi and said calmly, "Senior brother, don't worry, I won't let him kill you."
Shang Mang coldly observed everything, then turned and left.
The day of the decisive battle arrived quickly, but she did not come.
Shang Mang laughed self-deprecatingly.
She was still just a human being, as despicable as those others, and no matter how she pretended, she was still so hypocritical.
Looking at the clothes in his hand, he threw them on the ground.
Without even glancing at it, he stepped over the clothes.
The woman in red lay alone on the ground.
The wind and sand swirled, the stench of blood filled the air, and not a ray of light could be seen.
Zhou Xiuqi was surrounded by many Taoist priests. His face was somber, and there was no trace of the ghost fetus.
"So many people, it seems you're all afraid of me." A boastful laugh echoed in the air.
Shang Mang stood on the dried pool of blood, and as soon as he appeared, cries of condemnation continued.
"You wicked devil! You have turned this land into this state, and you show no remorse!"
"You beast, you killed my father, I will definitely kill you."
"Utterly disgusting. You've turned this land into this living hell!"
"kill!"
No one knows who started it, but a cacophony of shouts erupted.
"Hahaha—hahaha!" Shang Mang suddenly laughed, laughing so hard he could barely breathe: "You guys?"
Zhou Xiuqi led the way, drawing his sword. The gleaming blade flashed in Shang Mang's eyes, and a murderous intent arose instantly.
"Your very existence is a mistake; the world cannot tolerate you." He drew his sword and charged.
Shang Mang gripped the killing blade, his killing intent palpable, as he brandished his silver whip to fight against the dark mass of people.
There was no one behind him.
One by one, he snapped their necks, hands, and legs with his silver whip.
Kill them all, kill them all.
They're all liars, they're all liars.
"Shang Mang!" A clear, bright voice called his name from behind.
Shang Mang did not turn around, and his whip immediately pierced Zhou Xiuqi's chest.
One person took the blood, which was then inhaled by the killer.
In Shang Mang's eyes, Meng Yuan said with a bitter smile, "I'm sorry, I lied to you."
"You can't kill him." She rushed out, protecting Zhou Xiuqi, which ignited a fire of rage in his eyes.
His cold, piercing eyes seemed to want to tear her to pieces: "Pay with your life."
Shang Mang awoke in a void, back to where he began. This proved that only after his death would everything return to its starting point. During the long wait, he had long known that no one would stand by his side, and hatred would permeate his entire being.
That night, he woke up behind the tree and saw her.
He was covered in grime and had been scratched by a ghost.
How exhilarating it was! The con artist was on the verge of death, and a voice echoed in his mind: "Kill her. Kill her."
The voice was cold; he had never heard it before.
He didn't move, a sharp pain shooting through his chest.
"Who are you?"
[If you kill her, you can become a real human.]
The voice was like a part of his mind, impossible to shake off. To become a real person meant he could stand upright. He found her, wanting to kill her. But she remembered nothing. Even though she was the one who provoked him first, she forgot everything. When he touched her, the image of her smiling filled his mind, which annoyed him.
That night, he should have taken action; he should have killed her.
She gave him a bowl of dumplings and some money from the mountain spirit.
"A single coin from the mountain spirit will protect you completely," she said.
"Eat this lucky dumpling, and you'll be the luckiest person in the world!" He remembered her voice very clearly now. He used to forget people for no reason and could never remember anyone. But since she appeared, he was able to remember other people's names, and he could even remember her name. He came to find her, but she didn't remember him.
Under the quiet moonlight, amidst the chirping of cicadas, Shang Mang stared at her for a long time, then reached out and traced the contours of her face, outlining them one by one.
"A highly skilled conman."
...
In Lin'an, a torrential downpour struck, pattering against the glazed tiles with a crisp, shaky sound. A woman knelt outside the main hall in the rain, the rain relentlessly lashing her shoulders, which trembled. Her beautiful hair was disheveled behind her shoulders, and her delicate, pretty face stood like a stalk of green bamboo in the wind and rain.
The palace doors suddenly opened, and a figure in bright yellow stepped out. The woman raised her eyes, her gaze clear and bright, her spirits high.
The man walked slowly to her, his ornate robes slightly damp, and commanded, "Raise your head."
As she looked up, she saw the current emperor with warm, clear eyes, like spring water. His face, with its cherry lips and rosy cheeks, resembled that of a woman. Xiao Ling stared at her intently, her gaze momentarily lost in thought.
The eunuch Huang behind her was also secretly surprised, as the princess looked remarkably like a young princess.
Xiao Ling was distracted and called out, "Sister."
Seeing the emperor's expression, Eunuch Huang knew that all a woman needed was a beautiful face to rise to prominence. Eunuch Huang reminded him, "Your Majesty."
Xiao Ling raised his hand, took the umbrella from the eunuch Huang, opened it to shield the woman from the rain, and held out his hand: "What's your name?"
The woman squinted, water droplets sliding down the tip of her nose, her voice clear and bright: "Your Majesty, my name is Teng Yu'e."
Xiao Ling looked at her and said, "Get up."
A smile appeared on Teng Yu'e's face as he helped her to her feet.
Eunuch Huang spoke up: "Miss Teng, thank you for your kindness."
Teng Yu'e was about to kneel down when Xiao Ling stopped her, saying, "You don't need to bend your knees. You are not allowed to kneel down in front of me or anyone else."
Teng Yu'e's smile widened: "Thank you, Your Majesty."
Eunuch Huang followed behind the two men, sighing helplessly.
Xiao Ling looked at her familiar face. She would never kneel before anyone, never.
He tilted the umbrella in his hand slightly to shield her from the rain.
——
The next morning, Xiao Zheyu was restless and woke up very early. She wanted to take a walk, but she ended up at Zhou Xiuqi's house. She stood in front of the door for an hour, and her mind was filled with thoughts.
Xiao Zheyu knew very well that when Zhou Xiuqi rushed in without regard for his safety and saw him alone, her heart skipped a beat. She didn't understand why he had come. If it were her, she would have weighed the pros and cons before choosing to come.
Just as she helped Ah Jin and Ah Li, when she returned to the palace, she also had people announce her deeds on the road until the world admired her. If the emperor did anything, the people would not agree.
She had been used to weighing the pros and cons since she was a child, and she remembered that night that Tan Jing had mentioned.
But what could she do if she went? She would only annoy him and be disliked, so she did nothing. Perhaps she was heartless, but if she didn't think of herself, how could she have survived to this day?
His eyes gradually dimmed, and he turned to leave.
creak
The door was suddenly opened, and Zhou Xiuqi called out from behind her, "Miss Xiao."
Xiao Zheyu stopped and turned around, saying, "You were injured because of me, so I will take care of everything for you."
Zhou Xiuqi paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on her: "You don't need to do this. Saving you was what I should do."
Xiao Zheyu was unwilling to owe anyone a favor and insisted, "My mind is made up."
Zhou Xiuqi was not good with words, and arguing with her would not end well.
Zhou Xiuqi nodded and agreed.
Xiao Zheyu said, "What do you want for breakfast? I'll go prepare it for you."
Zhou Xiuqi spoke in a rigid, indifferent tone: "Whatever." Xiao Zheyu found herself used to this attitude, which was always the same. Xiao Zheyu's expression remained unchanged as she turned and left.
Meng Yingying emerged from the shadows and clicked her tongue. Zhou Xiuqi's emotions were very indifferent, so indifferent that sometimes he himself might not even realize it. Xiao Zheyu was stubborn and couldn't say it, but Zhou Xiuqi simply couldn't sense the emotion of love, so he didn't know or understand it.
"Senior brother, what do you think of Sister Xiao?"
“Upright and independent,” he said, his expression serious. Meng Yingying noticed this; Zhou Xiuqi had high standards for himself and probably had never thought about having a partner.
"So what are your feelings for her?" Meng Yingying asked, hoping that a little prompting might make him realize that he actually has some different feelings for her. Zhou Xiuqi looked directly at him and said, "Have you memorized the talisman?"
Meng Yingying paused for a moment: "Uh...no."
"I'll test you in three days." He turned and closed the door, showing no mercy. Meng Yingying stomped her foot in frustration outside, cursing in her heart, "No wonder you can't find a wife! You blockhead! You deserve it!" Let him be, she thought to herself as she returned to her room. She picked up the book, which was as thick as a dictionary, and started to read it. She was shocked and flipped through a few pages.
"Were all those markings written by him? I always thought he was some kind of genius," Meng Yingying muttered to herself.
“You’re mistaken. Senior Zhou is the most outstanding Taoist of our generation. He was already slaying ghosts everywhere when he was only five years old.” Kong Fusheng popped out of the window with a smile on his face.
"Five years old?" Meng Yingying was surprised; this was a part that had not been written in the book.
"Yes, my master said that Senior Zhou is the hope of the future. Every time he goes out to catch ghosts, he goes alone. Lin'an is quite far from Liuzhou, but he is not afraid at all. The first time I saw him, he was holding the Exorcising Sword and killed the ghost in two or three swipes. At that time, I also thought he was omnipotent, until he was accidentally possessed by a drowning ghost and fell ill immediately."
“It was my master who drove away the ghosts for him. The first thing he did when he woke up was to run to the water’s edge and drag out all the drowned ghosts from the bottom of the water and put them into the Qiankun Pouch. He was very ill and could not even stand up at that time. I had to go up and support him. He had a stern face at that time.”
"Evil spirits must die." He mimicked Zhou Xiuqi's manner, speaking in a measured tone, then added with a touch of nostalgia.
"Then I met him. He is an object of worship for many Taoists of our generation." Kong Fusheng looked at him with a puzzled expression. It turned out that Zhou Xiuqi was not a genius. Every step he took was achieved by risking his life. Meng Yingying dared not imagine how hard his life must have been.
The pages were worn with age, but they also symbolized the bumpy road he had traveled. Meng Yingying read them carefully.
...
They stayed at Biyun Temple for a few days before embarking on their journey back to Liuzhou City. The abbot, holding a staff, stood outside the gate watching them leave, his aged voice like an ancient bell that had stood for a thousand years: "If you know the cause of your past life, you will receive the result in this life. If you know the result of your next life, you will know the result of your actions in this life."
The others had already walked far away. Meng Yingying, who was at the back, heard these words and turned around to look. The host was also looking at her, but it seemed as if he was looking through her at someone else.
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