Chapter 70
Chapter 70
At Shengsheng’s words, Siran opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was her little face looming over him, backlit and shrouded in shadow.
“Shengsheng…” he called weakly.
When she did not react, he continued, “I know you despise me. I’ll leave at once.”
He struggled upright. Cold sweat gathered on his forehead, and his lips went faintly white, yet he stubbornly tried to rise.
Seeing his pitiful state, Shengsheng sighed. “Lie back down. I’m not driving you away.”
*Little fool.*
The faintest curve touched Siran’s lips. Then he lay back with an expression of terrible suffering.
Shengsheng climbed down from the stool, retrieved the half basket of cherry tomatoes she had hidden beneath the bed, wiped the seat with a handkerchief, and sat again.
“Don’t you have anything to ask me?” she mumbled around a tomato.
Something shifted in Siran’s eyes. His mouth tightened, and his lashes trembled.
“Am I allowed to ask?”
Shengsheng waved grandly. “Go ahead.”
“Who else knows Shengsheng’s true identity?”
She had not expected that to be his first question. Should he not ask why she had become like this, or what she had injected him with before?
Clearing her throat, she answered, “Only you.”
*At least, only you here.*
Only him here.
Siran turned the phrase over and over. So there were still others who knew.
His expression visibly chilled.
Seeing his already pale face grow colder still, Shengsheng said, “If you feel unwell, then sleep. I won’t disturb you.”
She tried to jump down and leave, but Siran caught her arm.
“Shengsheng…” His voice was urgent. “I have more questions.”
She pulled free and tilted her head, studying him.
The warmth in his hand seemed to linger for only an instant. Once she escaped, it turned cold again.
“Shengsheng, do you hate me?” He raised his eyes and fixed them on her.
She considered the question.
Did she hate Xiao Ming? No. Hatred was too heavy a thing to carry, and there was no unforgettable blood feud between them.
Then did she love him?
What was love?
For one instant, Shengsheng’s mind went blank.
During her fifty years wandering the mortal world as a ghost, she had heard the life stories of countless restless spirits and witnessed many hidden loves, hatreds, and consuming obsessions.
Somewhere in her memory was a boy in a clean white shirt, with a warm smile and a fresh scent. But time and the gulf between life and death had long since worn away that flutter of feeling.
Distant memories flooded her mind, awakening a past Shengsheng had refused to revisit.
After a long silence, Siran realized she had fallen into some strange state. When he tried to listen to her inner voice, he heard nothing.
She stood within reach, yet an invisible barrier seemed to divide them.
The feeling was unnerving.
As though she might dissolve into foam before his eyes at any moment.
Lost in the chaos of memory, Shengsheng suddenly stumbled. By the time she recovered, she was enclosed in a warm embrace.
Her mind cleared. Something on the verge of breaking through the earth withdrew once more.
She patted him with a tiny hand. “Xiao Ming?”
“I won’t ask again,” he said.
Shengsheng frowned in confusion.
*Why did he stop asking?*
He might be finished, but Shengsheng still had many questions.
“You didn’t lose your memories, did you?”
Shengsheng withdrew from his embrace and sat cross-legged opposite him, her expression serious.
Siran blinked innocently.
She continued, “You really are Xiao Ming, but you aren’t Siran Ming with amnesia. Is that right?”
It was strange. Shengsheng had suspected this before, but today she had finally found proof.
Amnesia meant losing all one’s memories. Yet Siran clearly recognized her. He even remembered what happened during his previous amnesia, and his personality was identical.
This was less like memory loss and more like possession.
After spending her days devouring several storybooks alongside Weiqing Song, Shengsheng had developed a keen instinct for such things.
Siran apparently had no intention of hiding it. He admitted the truth without fuss.
“Correct. I did not lose my memories.”
The little girl across from him arched one eyebrow high, her entire face saying, See? What did I tell you?
Suppressing the urge to pat her head, Siran continued, “More precisely, I never possessed those memories in the first place.”
Now Shengsheng’s expression changed. This was more complicated than she had imagined.
“Then who are you?”
“I am Siran Ming. Only, I am the Siran Ming from ten years ago.”
Shengsheng’s eyes widened.
*Reborn into my future body: the ten years I spent enjoying the fruits of my own labor?*
Siran stared at her.
What?
“You…”
As if knowing what she meant to ask, he continued, “After you injected me with that mysterious object, I returned to my own timeline.”
A terrible premonition seized Shengsheng. “Don’t tell me you…”
“Yes. I went looking for you.” Siran nodded.
Her heart jolted.
Herself from ten years ago… That was not even…
“I didn’t find you.” He lowered his head dejectedly.
Shengsheng breathed an inward sigh of relief.
*Good. You absolutely must not find her.*
Why not? Siran nearly asked aloud.
“Is the original Siran Ming still there? Or did he go to your timeline?”
Xiao Ming nodded. “I can feel him. He struggles, but he cannot escape my restraint.”
As he spoke, he carefully observed Shengsheng’s face, hoping she would not despise him for it.
*Beautiful work, darling!*
Shengsheng quickly flattened the smile threatening to rise. She nodded with grave sympathy.
“How terribly unfortunate. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
Siran fell silent.
He did not blame himself.
“Shengsheng, I am not him. I can sense that you dislike him. You may hate me for the wrongs I committed against you, but please don’t take your anger at Siran Ming out on me. All right?”
Shengsheng thought for several seconds, then nodded hesitantly.
Joy leaped in Siran’s heart.
The next moment, she asked, “So your body has recovered, hasn’t it?”
The color visibly drained from his face again.
Shengsheng could not even think of an appropriately outrageous compliment.
How did he do that? It worked better than powder.
* * *
Meanwhile, in Zhen Kingdom–
“So you could find her the first time, but not the second?” The green-robed man’s face was cold and hard.
The man opposite him stroked a hairpin carved with a peculiar little flower and said nothing.
“Weiqing, understand this: being abducted and flying away by herself are two different things.”