Becoming the Villain's Discarded Wife
Chapter 141 Death_1

Chapter 141: Chapter 141 Death_1

October 16.

Dawn was breaking when Shen Miaomiao suddenly woke with a start, swallowing instinctively as she remembered her dream from last night.

A glance at the two people still deep in sleep in the cart slightly eased her tension.

It was good that Sister Nanzhi was still there.

After a simple meal, wrapped in her clothes, Shen Miaomiao took a seat on the cart shaft. The weather had become too chilly now.

The mule simply snorted and shook its tail before continuing to pull the cart forward.

Nanzhi suddenly opened her eyes in the cart to find that her vision was shrouded with a grayish film, making everything appear hazy.

Realizing her world had turned into this, Nanzhi sat in a daze for a while.

Today was the ninth day.

Thinking of her dream, her already dim eyes grew even duller.

She was supposed to die today...

It seems there really is no changing the plot, huh.

If she died in this book, would she return to her original world?

Lost in such thoughts, Nanzhi suddenly felt bewildered.

In this world, she was twenty years old, but back in reality, she was only eighteen. So, which world was truly where she was meant to exist?

Shen Wenchen had been galloping for eight days straight, his eyes now bloodshot.

From Lihua Village to Yan City would take at least two months, and there were many possible routes; he had no clue which one the mother and son would have taken.

Reminded of the palpitations he experienced that day, he dared not delay even a moment for fear of repeating the tragedy of his previous life.

The reason he had said that woman wasn’t Nannan at first was that Nannan tended to be somewhat dim and taciturn. Although they were a loving couple, Nannan hadn’t shown much emotional fluctuation during the year-long marriage, prompting his suspicion upon his return this life when her attitude towards him seemed off.

At first, he was pleased, but after a couple of days, he sensed something was amiss. Her actions did not seem like a wife’s complaints towards her husband but rather as if she was deliberately avoiding him.

He had wished for Nannan to lash out at him, but even though he hadn’t seen his wife for many years, when he saw that woman again, he noticed something was off.

They were quite different, yet very similar.

When that woman told him she wasn’t Nannan, he was deeply disappointed. He had thought that reliving his life would allow him to change everything.

The people of Lihua Village had fled due to drought, yet he had found a spring in the mountains. Logically, even after half a year of drought, that spring should still flow, supporting a whole village without much difficulty.

But now, they still embarked on their exodus.

Could it be that fate would follow the same path as in his previous life?

Thinking so, he gripped the reins tighter.

His dark eye circles emphasized his exhaustion even more.

He had to get there faster.

He wanted to ask whether she really was Nannan.

Nannan’s handwriting was taught by him; if that woman truly wasn’t Nannan, why then was her sloppy handwriting so strikingly similar?

Noon.

Nanzhi was starting to have difficulty breathing.

Now she could no longer see clearly and was gasping for air, trying to keep her lungs functioning.

Such struggle made her resemble a fish dying of thirst, its mouth opening and closing incessantly, quite a frightening sight.

Zhiyu was now in utter panic; although her mother had experienced discomfort previously and had mild shortness of breath, never had it been as severe as it was now.

Left with no choice, she lifted the cart curtain and called out to Shen Miaomiao: "Aunt, mother is unwell!"

Upon hearing this, Shen Miaomiao quickly halted the mule cart and scrambled into the cabin.

Seeing Nanzhi’s state, she was startled and asked with a trembling voice, "Nan, Sister Nanzhi, what’s wrong with you?"

Nanzhi took deep breaths and after a long while, forced herself to stop gasping: "I, I’m fine."

Zhiyu, no matter how sensible he was, was still just a child over three years old and not yet four. He was now pouting and starting to cry softly.

"Zhiyu, be good, ah, Mommy’s okay." Nanzhi tried to summon a smile to reassure Zhiyu, but at this moment she could hardly muster the strength to curl her lips.

This was the first time she felt the taste of looming death.

She only felt somewhat light all over, as if she could float out of her body at any moment and drift to an unknown place.

"Mommy wants to drink some water, Zhiyu, go help Mommy, get, okay, okay?"

Waiting for Nanzhi to finish speaking with effort, the little one immediately nodded and went to get a bamboo tube.

It was then that Nanzhi summoned her last bit of strength to grab the hem of Shen Miaomiao’s clothes.

"Miaomiao."

Shen Miaomiao was taken aback, naively asking in a soft voice, "Sister Nanzhi?"

"When I am gone, Zhiyu, please, I entrust to you. There’s still some silver in my small bundle; take it and I beg you, you must, you must take good care of him."

Shen Miaomiao turned pale, biting her lower lip tightly, her voice already shaky with crying, "Sister Nanzhi, you’re going to get better."

Nanzhi shook her head: "I know, I won’t survive tonight. Be sure to go, first, to find Shen Wenchen, he, will, will help you... "

Having said this, Nanzhi fell silent again as if she had fainted.

Zhiyu had just found a bamboo tube and brought it over when he saw his own Mommy closing her eyes again and Shen Miaomiao lowering her head.

Has Mommy fallen asleep again from exhaustion?

The young lad in white shuttled through the woods, complaining to himself as he moved swiftly.

How could the plot be so troublesome?

Even though he had altered it, why does it still head down that same trajectory?

Thinking that this was his first task and he was about to fail, he felt like his nose was almost becoming crooked from frustration.

What’s all this about?

No matter how fast he was, by the time he caught up with Shen Miaomiao’s beloved, it was already evening.

The sky was a warm red with the sunset, looking exceptionally splendid.

Nanzhi felt like she was a broken oil lamp that had burned out of oil, reaching the end of her light.

It seemed she had no chance to see the moon and stars one last time.

What a pity.

When Nanzhi stopped breathing at last, she tried hard to gaze up towards the sky, but all she could see was a blur of darkness.

The setting sun was half down, the warm red sunlight streaming through the clouds, painting a beautiful canvas across the sky.

Zhiyu, as if sensing something, looked up blankly, gazing at the sky outside the mule cart window.

Inside the cart, Nanzhi’s body grew increasingly cold, and any trace of color that suggested life had utterly vanished from her face.

Miaomiao could no longer hold back, sitting atop the cart shaft and weeping bitterly.

Such a good Sister Nanzhi.

Zhiyu let go of his grip on his own mother’s hand, slowly climbed down from the mule cart, and just stared vacantly at the sky.

The young lad in white, upon seeing the mule cart stopped ahead, was overjoyed—had he caught up in time?

But as he approached and saw Zhiyu standing stupefied, looking up at the sky, his heart skipped a beat.

Had he arrived too late?

Zhiyu turned his head upon hearing the footsteps, looking towards him.

Plip, plip.

Zhiyu’s tears fell to the ground in large drops, the warm liquid splashing on the earth and raising a fine dust.

Immediately after, a fine, drizzling rain inexplicably began to fall from the sky.

The young lad choked up, not daring to look up at Zhiyu standing before him.

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