Chapter 65
Chapter Sixty-Four
Meng Yingying stretched out her hand; the lines on her palm were intricate and complex. Once, she passed by a fortune teller, who, though unsure whether his words were true or false, had said that she was broad-minded but would experience much hardship. Her grandmother, without looking back, pulled her away; she had lived her whole life believing in ghosts and spirits.
Shang Mang didn't seem like someone who worshipped gods or Buddhas, yet he believed in the concept of fate. Meng Yingying didn't believe in fate; she didn't believe in destiny.
As she looked, her corpse gradually became transparent. Shang Mang's hand, which had been tightly gripping her illusory ring, could no longer hold on, and his eyes were also suspended in mid-air.
His gaze was fixed on that spot, as if she would return. Slowly, Shang Mang bent down, his skin touching the ground, feeling the faint warmth.
"Why can't we be together?"
Why are you unhappy?
"Why isn't your home here?"
"Why did you lie to me?" he said affectionately. Meng Yingying seemed to see five-year-old Shang Mang in that dream. In that dream, five-year-old Shang Mang was not so rebellious, but rather a little naive.
Suddenly, Shang Mang said to himself, "I do not follow the righteous path."
"I only wish Meng Yingying to be happy every year."
Meng Yingying lowered her head. The world that had just dissipated was now reforming. All of this seemed to happen haphazardly, but who was Shang Mang talking to? The ground shook, and Meng Yingying felt something huge being absorbed into her back, causing her to uncontrollably fall backward.
She entered a virtual ring space, and Meng Yingying stretched out her hand, which was made of code.
[Hello host, congratulations on unlocking the hidden storyline. We are currently restoring your memories.]
Meng Yingying: "Hidden plot?" How come it's like a game, there's a hidden plot even when you transmigrate into a book? Meng Yingying felt something was wrong, but continued listening.
【Yes. 】
"Are you ready to accept the memories of your past life?" The system's voice seemed to have changed slightly, with a stronger electronic tone.
My head feels numb.
"Ready." Meng Yingying agreed without hesitation. The system seemed to have anticipated her response. Before she could finish speaking, a clear, penetrating sensation, as if piercing her nerves, reached the top of her head.
Her eyes slowly opened, gazing into her past life.
I am Meng Yuan, and it turns out I was reincarnated as a baby.
I died that night because of a sudden heart attack, which was something I expected. I have a congenital heart condition, and death is unknown to me. I didn't know when I would die.
As luck would have it, she couldn't sleep that night and randomly picked up a novel to read, only remembering the synopsis. She didn't remember the rest, but that's how she transmigrated into the book. And in her previous life, she only had one mission: to win over the male protagonist of "Moonrise Over Tianshan".
On New Year's Eve, the first cry of a newborn baby pierced the air. The woman on the bed, biting her handkerchief, slammed her head heavily onto the pillow; the air was thick with the smell of blood. The door was pushed open, and a man rushed in, his face wet with tears that pattered onto the bedding. The woman, her chest heaving, wept, "You're finally back."
The man knelt on the ground, looked at the child, and said with a glimmer in his eyes, "Thank you for your hard work."
It wasn't until I was four years old that my memories began to slowly awaken, and the system gradually told me what I should do. My mother looks exactly like my real mother, but my father's personality is completely different from that beast's.
When I was five, my father secretly took me away. My mother leaned against the door frame watching me, and I didn't understand.
My father stroked my cheek, his rough fingertips rubbing against my skin until it hurt. He said, “Yingying, it’s all my fault that you have been cursed like this. Go up the mountain and keep walking and walking until you find a Taoist temple and ask them to take you as their disciple.”
Do you know?
I set off up the mountain. The path was rugged, and being small, I couldn't find my way at all. I could only grope my way in little by little. It got darker and darker. I couldn't find my way, and panic and unease about being in a strange world overwhelmed me. Even my parents, the only familiar faces, felt very unfamiliar to me. The same faces, but different personalities.
My name has always been Meng Yuan, and Meng Yingying is my nickname.
It grew dark and colder. I couldn't find my way, and my elbow was cut by weeds. As it bled, I wanted to cry. But I held it back; tears wouldn't solve anything. I found a spot and covered myself with fallen leaves to keep warm. The endless darkness terrified me. There must still be wolves in this world; wild wolves might suddenly appear and tear me apart.
I huddled on the ground, and through my blurry vision, a glimmer of light approached me. A young man in white crouched down beside me, his limbs seemingly frozen. I was afraid he might do something to me, but I couldn't move.
His sword was pure white, clean and pristine.
The person reached out and brushed aside my hair, his voice indifferent: "Are you Meng Yuan?" He was asking me. I tried to open my eyes, but my head felt incredibly heavy, and I couldn't even respond.
He didn't say anything more, just said directly: "If it's you, blink once; if it's not, blink twice."
I blinked.
It was pitch black, and I couldn't see him. I could only smell the incense ash. His voice rang out again: "I am Zhou Xiuqi. From today onwards, I am your senior brother."
He put my hands on my neck and carried me on his back.
Finally, I saw his face: sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, and a resolute gaze. It dawned on me—he was the male protagonist from the original book, the one I needed to win over.
His public persona is that of someone who upholds the highest principles and is upright and incorruptible.
I had a fever all night, and Zhou Xiuqi stayed by my side to take care of me. When I woke up the next day, he was propping his head up and looking at me with such a direct gaze that it made me feel uncomfortable. Zhou Xiuqi always seemed to stare directly at people; perhaps it was a common trait among Taoists.
Ling Daozi walked in from outside the door. It was the first time I had seen an old man with white hair and beard, but his face was rosy and he didn't look old at all.
Ling Daozi sat down beside me, reached out and took my hand, shaking his head: "Every wrong has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor. What a sin, what a sin!"
"Such a vicious curse, cast on a doll, how vicious, how vicious!"
His hand traced the lines on my palm. I looked down and heard his regretful words: "Such a young age, yet the lines on your palm are so rugged."
"If not destined for greatness, then destined for greatness."
That day I learned that I was cursed with karmic retribution because my father had been robbing and killing indiscriminately just to make a living, and someone had placed a curse on me. This curse would attract ghosts that would slowly devour me, causing me to wither and die.
I sat on the bed and laughed contemptuously. It seemed I couldn't escape the fate of dying at any moment.
A weight appeared above my head. I looked up and saw Zhou Xiuqi with a stern face: "I am the senior brother. All ghosts and monsters in the world will be killed by me."
My heart skipped a beat. It was the first time someone had shown me such concern, and a smile involuntarily crept onto my face as I looked up at them: "Senior brother..."
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