Chapter 335 Guess if I Want to Be a Movie Queen (Part 1) shuhaige.net



"Your soul can be extracted today, aren't you happy? Aren't you excited?" Ningwu teased her on purpose.

"Hehe." Su Chen looked at the middle-aged woman in the bronze mirror.

Two years ago, Mumu's children had all gotten married and had their own children, while she was becoming more and more like an old piece of wood that was about to rot away.

[You'll be able to put your strengths to good use in the next world, and besides, aren't you happy about taking a twenty-year break for no reason?]

Su Chen shook her head. "I'd probably be happy if you could keep me young forever."

Ningwu quickly advised, "Hey, you're guaranteed to be young in the next world. After all, you're a woman who can rival a movie queen, so your looks will be quite good. Besides, you won't live to old age in the next world either."

Although there's something off about what I'm saying, as long as I'm not old, it's fine.

Su Chen put on makeup and wore the palace dress she had brought with her before escaping the palace.

Over the years, she has learned to style her own hair. After styling her hair into a messy bun, Su Chen applied rouge and powder, then smeared fragrant flower oil on her hair. In the mirror, she seemed to see herself from many years ago.

After she finished doing all this, she quietly lay down on the bed with her hands folded and closed her eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a familiar space, and there was also Ningwu's familiar husky's disdainful face.

"This world has dragged on for so long, shouldn't we get to our mission?" Ningwu looked down at Su Chen, dog hair almost falling into her mouth.

"Stay away from me." Su Chen pushed her aside and sat up. "I definitely have to do my mission."

Seeing her so readily agree for the first time, the headless monster suddenly wanted to give her a treat. "Hmm, would you like to see what happens after you die?"

“Okay.” Although Su Chen had no interest in what would happen after her death, she was intrigued by Ning Wutou’s sudden interest, so she let her watch.

Ningwu raised its claws and tapped a series of keys. Instantly, a small machine the size of a fingernail jumped into the air and emitted a beam of light that projected onto the white wall opposite Suchen, displaying an image.

The time was the night she died. Mumu went to have dinner with her but found that she was no longer alive. She also found the letter that Mumu had left for her.

Su Chen didn't write anything sentimental in her letter; she simply placed her remaining jewelry and money next to the letter for Mu Mu to keep.

Mumu cried so much that she couldn't eat dinner that day. She went straight to buy a coffin and kept vigil for her all night.

Mumu even had her two children act as Su Chen's children to keep watch at night, holding banners and supporting the tomb.

During the days that Su Chen lay in state, Wang Xiucai noticed something amiss with the clothes she wore. The fabric wasn't something an ordinary family could afford, not even a wealthy one; it could only be from the imperial palace…

He learned by chance a few years ago that this fabric was a tribute from foreign tribes and could only be worn by the favored concubines in the palace.

For the first time, Wang Xiucai doubted Su Chen's identity and asked his wife, "Is Su Chen your elder sister?"

Mumu shook her head, crying, "I'm just her servant."

“Then she is…” Wang Xiucai dared not guess.

“She was Consort Chen, the late emperor’s favorite concubine, the one who was rumored to have committed suicide with the late emperor.” Mu Mu looked at Su Chen, whose eyes were closed and whose face was beautiful, “and is the current empress’s older sister.”

Wang Xiucai opened his mouth but didn't utter a sound. After a long while, he asked, "Then... Brother Huang?"

Mu Mu closed her eyes slightly and whispered, "It's the late emperor."

Wang Xiucai trembled. He shouldn't have said anything wrong back then, right?

Mu Mu buried Su Chen and Jun Mochen together, a few handfuls of yellow earth and a handful of paper money, and the royal secrets of that year were thus buried and forgotten by time.

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