"She suddenly wanted to change how she died," Meng Qingluan made up a reason.
Zhu Qing'an said "Oh" and nodded, "I see."
Meng Qingluan yawned and stood up, but after taking only two steps, she turned back with wide eyes.
How do you know Snow White was poisoned by the poisoned apple?
Meng Qingluan's eyes widened, and the water in her almond-shaped eyes shimmered like ice suddenly cracking in March.
Zhu Qing'an tilted her head slightly, her eyes clear. "It's written in the book."
Meng Qingluan asked, "What book?"
Zhu Qing'an handed her the book he was holding.
Meng Qingluan took it and opened it. It was mostly written in traditional Chinese characters, and she could only manage to find a few characters she recognized with difficulty.
When pieced together, it does indeed resemble a storybook.
Not only is there Snow White, but also Little Red Riding Hood, and the Princess and the Pea... The last page is the half-finished story of the Little Match Girl.
Meng Qingluan flipped through the pages, only to find blank sheets of paper remaining.
Meng Qingluan returned the book to him and tentatively asked, "Where...where did you get this book?"
Zhu Qing'an carefully put the book away, holding it gently in her hands. "I wrote it myself."
"You wrote this?!" Meng Qingluan's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Um."
Meng Qingluan blinked and looked at him.
Zhu Qing'an turned her head to the side and blinked, and the two looked at each other.
Meng Qingluan took a deep breath and continued with the same old routine.
Which company has the best excavator technology?
"What is your sister saying?" Zhu Qing'an asked, bewildered.
Meng Qingluan chuckled inwardly.
Little brat, are you still putting on an act with her? You want to hear foreign stories and force her to use some foreign codes, huh?
“So-and-so rode in a convertible, what a wild idea! Come on, tell us.” Meng Qingluan was eager to try.
Zhu Qing'an was completely bewildered, her amber eyes filled with doubt.
"What's a convertible? What kind of mind-blowing concept is that?"
Meng Qingluan reminded her, "Kenny...you know that, right!"
Zhu Qing'an shook his head.
"Sister, what are you talking about?"
"You really don't know?" Meng Qingluan asked, puzzled.
"have no idea."
Meng Qingluan pointed to the book he had placed aside, "Then how do you know those stories?"
Zhu Qing'an tilted his head, his jet-black hair falling to his shoulders, making his skin appear as white as snow. He ran his fingertips along the corner of the blanket.
"These stories? When I was in the Western Regions, a maid told them to me, and I wrote them all down."
"..."
Meng Qingluan understood; it seemed that someone else had transmigrated before her.
"Where is she?" Meng Qingluan pressed.
"have no idea."
Zhu Qing'an shook his head, turning over as he did so, his tone somewhat melancholy.
Meng Qingluan sensed his low spirits, pursed her lips, and stopped speaking. It seemed she had returned to the real world.
After standing by the bed for a while, Meng Qingluan blew out the candle beside her.
"good evening."
"Goodnight...sister." Zhu Qing'an's very soft voice came.
…
As soon as Meng Qingluan pushed open the door and entered the room, she was embraced in a large, warm embrace.
She was completely enveloped by him, and Meng Qingluan felt like she couldn't breathe properly. She reached out and patted his arm.
"Chen Yan, are you trying to suffocate me?"
"..."
Shen Yan loosened her grip slightly, but still held him tightly. Anyone who didn't know the situation would think the two had gone through some kind of life-or-death separation.
Seeing that he wouldn't let go of her, Meng Qingluan could only drag him along. When they reached the table and sat down, he was still clinging to her.
Are you going crazy in the middle of the night?
"Why did you talk to him for so long outside? You even told him stories. He's a grown man, isn't he ashamed...?"
He has not yet enjoyed such treatment.
What gives him the right?
Shen Yan immediately started complaining and blaming, and then went on to berate Zhu Qing'an for being shameless.
Meng Qingluan quickly covered his mouth, "Grandpa, can you please control your jealousy? He's just a child."
Shen Yan released her, sat down in the chair next to her, pulled her hand down, and gently bit it with his teeth.
Meng Qingluan was used to his puppy-like behavior of biting people randomly. After he finished biting, she felt sorry for the bitten area, calmly drank a cup of tea, and gave him some advice.
"Remember to bring me a damp towel to wipe my hands."
"..."
Shen Yan pursed his lips and didn't say anything.
Meng Qingluan stretched out her foot and lightly kicked his shin, "Speak."
"……Know."
Reluctantly, Shen Yan got up, grabbed a towel, and wiped her hands thoroughly again.
Shen Yan put the towel back where it was, and before he could turn around, he suddenly felt a warmth behind him—
A pair of slender arms wrapped around his lean waist from behind, the touch against his back was warm and soft, with a familiar fragrance.
"Are you unhappy?" Meng Qingluan's head peeked out from the side.
"No."
Shen Yan lowered his eyes, not daring to turn around and look directly into her eyes, his long eyelashes casting a shadow beneath them.
"Then why did you stick to me like glue as soon as you came in? And you were even jealous of a little boy, it almost made me so jealous."
Shen Yan suddenly turned around and pulled her into his arms. The force was gentle, but it still made her stumble.
His chin rested on the top of her head, his breathing heavy and disordered, his voice filled with a suppressed bitterness.
"……sorry."
"Um?"
Those three words seemed to be forced out of his chest, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
Meng Qingluan felt the hand wrapped around her arm trembling noticeably, even more nervously and strangely than before.
She raised her hand, wanting to comfort him.
"I……"
Shen Yan's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to explain something. But after feeling her arm rise, he simply tightened his grip and buried his face in her neck.
"...Don't push me away, please."
"Chen Yan, are you overthinking things again?" Meng Qingluan said helplessly.
"No, it's my fault," Shen Yan said softly.
"Weren't you just questioning me about telling stories to people? How come you suddenly have a change of heart?" Meng Qingluan also found it strange.
“I…I’ve been with you for so long, yet I’m not as good as him in just a few days. I didn’t even know you had this illness. You used to have to set up a stall in the freezing cold, and I was peeling shrimp for you today, almost making your condition worse.”
As Chen Yan spoke, his voice trembled more and more violently.
As he spoke, he released Meng Qingluan, slumped down, his eyes bloodshot, and his hands trembled uncontrollably as he clutched his head.
Chen Yan was devastated and bewildered.
Their lives were clearly getting better, so why, why did it turn out like this?
If he had discovered it sooner and returned to the capital sooner, wouldn't he be in a better position now?
Meng Qingluan quickly squatted down and forcefully pulled his hands away from his head.
"Shen Yan, please don't take all the blame on yourself, okay? I only found out myself, it's not your fault."
Meng Qingluan hugged Shen Yan, letting him bury himself in her arms, comforting him and calming his fear and anxiety.
Meng Qingluan is right.
Not only her, but even the original owner of this body was unaware that she had such a disease.
But Chen Yan was too humble. In their relationship, no matter how she guided him, if she made even the slightest mistake, he would take all the blame upon himself.
Because of love, I always feel guilty about what I did wrong.
Shen Yan's hair fell onto her neck. He finally raised his head, and her gaze fell on him, noticing the redness in the corner of his eyes.
“I’m scared,” he said.
"What are you afraid of?"
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