This day, outside, rain poured. On the tile roofs and the lush green fields between the ridges, a layer of misty rain was splashed, like ethereal white gauze.
As twilight descended, the distance turned pitch black. The little pampered husband, carrying his farming tools, pushed open the fence and returned. Small puddles had formed under the eaves. He hung his drenched bamboo hat and straw cloak on the mud wall, then brushed aside his wet forehead hair. His pink cheeks were flushed with the moisture of labor, and his eyes were as clear as water-washed crystals.
Inside, only a dim oil lamp was lit. Seeing his wife by the window, watching the rain, Gu Junshi had transformed into "Gu Yi." Although it was the same face and the same body, her demeanor and bearing had changed dramatically from before.
In her previous life, Gu Junshi, nurtured by wealth, possessed a noble and precious soul. Even in a cheap, patched-up blue cloth dress, her silky black hair meticulously styled and simply pinned with a pear branch, her eyes bright and lips painted red, she was like a radiant moon, exuding an extraordinary presence.
After losing her memory, the little pampered husband always felt inferior when facing such a wife. He often couldn't understand what she was thinking when she remained silent.
However, when his dejected gaze inadvertently swept over her belly, his face lit up with sweet shyness.
He thought: It should be showing something by now after so many days.
He felt he had been "cultivating" night after night, working even more diligently than an ox.
"A'Yi, I'm back."
Gu Junshi turned her head. Her dark, placid eyes fell upon him, fixing him for a moment before lowering again.
"Gu Junshi, my name."
Due to the rain outside and the obscured mist, a single dim oil lamp illuminated the corner of the room. She stood by the window, her dark complexion revealing half her face in the light, like a Buddha on one side and a cold demon on the other.
The little pampered husband was slightly startled: "Wife, wife isn't named Gu Yi?"
She walked towards him: "Gu Yi is what others call me. Junshi is my true name."
The wooden door behind the pampered husband creaked and swayed in a gust of strong wind, sending a chill up his spine. Under the flickering firelight, the shadow at her feet twisted and writhed wildly, like an uncontrolled phantom.
He finally sensed something was wrong.
In the flickering light, he shivered with unease: "Why are you suddenly saying this?"
Gu Junlin stopped. Her pupils were extremely dark, but her lips were pale. The cold wind had brushed her face by the window, and her hair was damp with rain mist. Her entire being exuded a beauty so profound it was chillingly indifferent.
"Because there's no more time... Remember this name. If there is a next life, do not look for the wrong person."
Suddenly, a sharp pain struck his abdomen. He finally realized what was happening, his eyes shattered with disbelief and pain. He tightly grabbed her wrist and slid to the ground.
"Why, why?"
She offered no explanation, only gently stroked his tear-streaked eyes, which were filled with hatred, with her cool hands. She wiped them softly and meticulously, as if to comfort or mourn, but her gaze remained as calm as the cool moonlight.
His eyes blank and vacant, he collapsed in a pool of blood. Until his death, he never understood why she had killed him...
—
Gu Junshi stood up. Everything had returned to that day.
*Pat...*
The window lattice and the loosely closed firewood door creaked and banged against the strong wind outside. The sky was dark, and a torrential rain began to fall.
*Creak—* That person, dead for over two hundred years, was resurrected once more. Upon returning home, he hung his bamboo hat and straw cloak under the eaves. Seeing no light in the room, he assumed his wife was resting and pushed open the door unknowingly. Everything unfolded as it overlapped with her hazy memories...
What was the point of it happening again?
Her choices would never change.
Gu Junshi sat on the bedside, her eyes cast down, a cold smile playing on her lips. The cold wind from the opening door blew aside the blue curtain by the bed. The little pampered husband was outside, preparing to find a fire to light the lamp. Suddenly, he felt a silhouette approaching from behind. The moment he turned his head, a sharp, cold gleam flashed past.
*Pfft—*
"Why, why?" He fell to the ground, his upturned eyes dazed like a slow-witted puppet, meeting Gu Junshi's playful, mist-shrouded gaze as she leaned over him.
"I also want to know why..."
—
Upon opening her eyes again, Gu Junshi found that she had returned once more, and yet again.
She felt trapped in a closed loop, with no way out.
It was all related to this little pampered husband of unknown origin, wasn't it? Otherwise, why would it be this specific day?
This time, she opened the door in advance. Fu Feng leaned against the doorframe, watching the little pampered husband return from the muddy country path through the rain. The downpour was heavy, and the sky was dim. He didn't notice his wife under the thatched eaves. He pulled out the fence gate and entered the yard, then quickly removed his wet rain gear.
He wore a thin scholar's blue robe, his waist as slender as a woman's, his bearing elegant and alluring. When he saw her waiting by the door, his face lit up with sudden joy. His exquisite face, like flawless jade, had eyes like stars.
"My wife—"
A cold, sharp edge sliced through his tender white neck, and crimson blood spurted out.
In his fading eyes flashed disbelief and sorrow.
—
How many times has it been?
When Gu Junshi returned to this day once more, the repetitive script had rendered her numb.
She had tried many ways to prevent time from reversing, but all were in vain.
So this time, she didn't rush to act. She recalled her repeated attempts to cultivate the immortal path, only to find that no matter how she corrected or changed things, she could never break through the void and ascend. It seemed she was always missing one crucial element.
She had spent over a thousand years repeating monotonous years. Finally, she speculated that there must be a problem with the "Dao of Heartlessness诀" she had cultivated from the beginning. Thus, this time, she found the blood-stained bundle again and retrieved the book.
This time, she examined it with particular care, reading it word by word. Finally, at the corner of a page, she saw a line of small text that had been overlooked.
—One who cultivates the Heartlessness诀 must first experience emotions. Only after enduring tribulations and ascending to the heavenly gates can one achieve enlightenment.
Upon seeing this line, Gu Junshi fell silent for a long time. Finally, she couldn't maintain her cold lips and cursed impolitely.
"Damn it!"
So, this damned cultivation method required one to experience emotions first, and then kill to prove their Dao at the moment of ascension?
Having been obsessed with ascension for a thousand years, Gu Junshi was determined to achieve it. Knowing the reason for her continuous failure to ascend, she began to ponder. In both her past and present lives, she was an ambitious career woman, but she was never good at emotions. So, how could she experience emotions?
—
"No, don't—"
Liu Jiang Fusheng sat up from the bed, his eyes still wide with shock, his chest heaving.
He frantically felt his entire body, only to find that he was not dead.
He was startled.
He, he had returned again!
His body trembled uncontrollably. He covered his face with his delicate, fair hands, his long, dark eyelashes reddened, neither crying nor smiling.
At this moment, he didn't know whether to cry or laugh. He couldn't remember how many times that heartless woman had killed him. His entire body had been pierced. At first, he was unwilling and still wanted to ask her why, why she was so cruel to him.
But later, he was in too much pain, too desperate, and all that remained was hatred, a desire to kill her!
He had sworn that if he were given another chance to be reborn, he would kill her first. It was just that in every life, he only regained the memories of being killed from the previous life on his deathbed.
But this time, he wasn't dead yet, and he had regained his memory beforehand...
He lowered his hands, his pale teeth nervously biting his nails. His breathing became excited and tremblingly rapid... Kill her, kill her. This time, he would absolutely not die by her hand again...
"Husband." A cool, spring-like female voice sounded softly in his ear.
Liu Jiang Fusheng's delicate body instinctively trembled, and a chill shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.