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墨書 Inktalez
"I can say that if I'm not mistaken, the whole thing was originally meant to revive Chen Siyuan, but our appearance, especially you stepping onto the altar, completely disrupted their plan. The plan failed, and your identity has been exposed."
"My identity? I'm just an ordinary person. What identity are you referring to? The identity of the Supreme Spirit Tool?"
Su Anrong paused for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated. Then he replied, "Yes."
"With that expression on your face, it's obvious that the correct answer isn't that." I scoffed; it seemed he was hiding something from me.
"The correct answer is that you are my wife, and that thing knows about it. It's jealous," Su Anrong winked at me.
He never could be serious. I couldn't be bothered to argue with him. I glanced at the motionless woman on the ground. "What about her?"
"We can only take her to the hospital. Even if she wakes up now, she'll be a vegetable."
It seemed there was no other option.
I crouched down and patted Gao Lele and Fang Xiaonan's faces. "Hey, get up already. Stop pretending to be faint."
Fang Xiaonan sat up with a start, looking at me in admiration. "Wheat, how did you know I was pretending?"
"Just a wild guess."
Gao Lele also sat up. "Ugh, I can't even enjoy a good sleep surrounded by these green trees and red flowers." She covered her nose as she spoke. "How did this stinky monk die?"
"Oh right, Wheat, I didn't understand anything you just said about revival and souls. That monk just asked about what kind of person Yin was; I thought he was going to capture you, which made me worry for nothing," Fang Xiaonan mumbled as she stood next to me, too scared to look at the monk's corpse again.
"You don't need to worry about being captured. Since I saved you both this time, you two need to carry Siyuan's aunt and let's head back," I instructed with my hands on my hips.
The two of them looked shocked, their eyes wide like saucers—especially Fang Xiaonan. Usually quiet and gentle, her expression was now the most exaggerated of all. "Are you saying that this monk was killed by you? Oh my god, Wheat, you've become a murderer!"
"Who killed your whole family to be a murderer? If you keep talking nonsense, believe me, I'll punch you until you're like him."
Fang Xiaonan stepped back in fear, distancing herself from me.
Gao Lele asked thoughtfully, "Wheat, isn't this auntie Siyuan's Mother? Why are we calling her auntie now?"
"This is a long story, very, very long. You guys carry her first; I'll explain on the way."
"Why do we have to do this while there's a man around? It's unfair for us weak women," Gao Lele complained.
Fang Xiaonan chimed in, "Yeah, Wheat, you're being too biased."
"He's not a man."
"Right, I'm not human," Su Anrong nodded in agreement.
Gao Lele and Fang Xiaonan stared at us in disbelief, as if we were crazy. Then, in an instant, they transformed into tough girls and started carrying the auntie away.
Suddenly, something fell from the auntie's belongings. I picked it up and found it was a letter.
"Garlic Paste, should we read it or not?" I wasn't curious about it being fake, but after all, it belonged to someone else. If I peeked, I wouldn't feel right about it.
Su Anrong glanced at it and snatched it away. "Is that even a question? Of course we should read it! Given her situation, we might as well find out where she hid her money. Even a hundred bucks is still money!"
As Su Anrong spoke, she opened the envelope. I quickly leaned in closer. "But you’re the one opening it."
However, soon I felt an inexplicable pang of sadness rising within me—a mix of emotions that leaned heavily toward sorrow. I had never imagined the truth would be like this.
The handwriting in the letter was crooked and filled with many typos and abbreviations, indicating that the auntie hadn't read much. Yet she managed to write several thousand words, each line dripping with deep helplessness and even deeper love.
Fifteen years ago, Siyuan's mother had already passed away. All this time, Auntie had been pretending to be her mother, taking care of Siyuan. Lacking education, she had done various jobs—polishing shoes, sewing clothes, working in a factory canning goods, and even enduring assault for a mere thousand yuan.
She never married, treating Siyuan as her only child. Although she initially disapproved of her sister marrying her brother-in-law, everything changed when she witnessed their bodies after the shipwreck. Seeing their hands reaching upward as if trying to lift each other, she could no longer bring herself to oppose their union or abandon Siyuan.
After narrowly escaping death during that incident, Siyuan fell into a high fever and forgot most of what had happened. Children’s memories are often fleeting, yet she vividly remembered her mother’s face. The moment she woke up, she called Auntie "Mom." From that moment on, Auntie vowed to raise the child no matter what, determined that Siyuan would not grow up without a mother.
However, last year, Auntie was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. She had planned to wait until Siyuan turned eighteen before finding a way to leave her behind. But as her condition worsened and treatment became increasingly expensive—something she could not afford—she fabricated a story about her own death while working away from home. Before Siyuan could see the body, Auntie cremated it under the pretense that it couldn't remain for long and provided a fake urn filled with ashes.
Despite this, Auntie couldn't help but want to stay involved in Siyuan's life. To avoid raising suspicion, she deliberately acted like a rough and unreasonable aunt. She wanted to spare Siyuan any sadness on the day she truly left. Little did she know that before she could pass away, Siyuan would die first.
Auntie refused to accept this reality. She went to the river where Siyuan's parents had perished, questioning why her sister and brother-in-law hadn’t protected Siyuan and why such tragedy befell her at such a young age—leaving no trace behind.
It was there that she encountered the monk, who introduced her to his master.
As Su Anrong had guessed, Auntie made a deal with that master, selling her soul in exchange for health and the ability to house Siyuan's spirit.
Unbeknownst to Auntie, she didn’t know where Siyuan’s soul was located. Thus, she sought to summon it using the ashes made from Siyuan’s belongings and birth date through the monk's guidance.
Having been Siyuan’s mother for fifteen years, Auntie knew the birth dates of several people in our dormitory but didn’t know who was who. Coincidentally, we fit the criteria for her soul transaction.
When we finally arrived at this place, Auntie may have felt some regret at first and tried to send us away but ultimately compromised.
In the letter's conclusion, she wrote: “Siyuan, my child, I have nothing else to give you. This body is also dying; you can use it for now. Don’t mind that I’m old. Your three classmates will only face a little hardship; they will be fine. You must live well.”
Her signature was more distorted than the rest of the text as if it had been erased but still faintly readable:
Your loving mother.
Finally, she wrote "Your Aunt" in heavier strokes over the erased words.
I had never had any fondness for this woman, but after reading the letter, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, splattering onto the paper. As I walked and read, I nearly stumbled several times.
"Fool," Su Anrong said, embracing me. "With such a wonderful mother loving her, you should be happy for her."
"Yes," I nodded heavily. Indeed, I should be happy for Siyuan.
But what about Siyuan herself?
As I pondered this, a faint figure appeared before me. Siyuan had somehow emerged from my ring and knelt before Su Anrong. "Please, no matter what it takes, let me stay in this world. I don't want my mother to lie alone on that hospital bed."
It seemed she had seen the letter as well.
I had never seen this side of Siyuan before; her eyes were filled with unwavering determination and glistening tears. As she spoke, she bowed her head in reverence several times. "I beg you."
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