Ex-Wife is a Big Villainess
Chapter 92 - 84: Killing Feng Yichen! (Seeking Initial Subscription)_3

Chapter 92: Chapter 84: Killing Feng Yichen! (Seeking Initial Subscription)_3

Jiang Shouzhong’s eyes lit up, "Okay, no problem."

Yan Changqing, without any redundant words, carried the blood-covered Feng Yichen and vanished on the main street.

From a companionship of two to being alone, Jiang Shouzhong rubbed his cheeks somewhat melancholically and looked up at the starry sky, muttering, "Next is the Water Moon Dream Mirror, I wonder if I passed the test."

The man felt exceptionally despondent.

If he hadn’t passed the first trial, he expected he might become a corpse the following day.

...

Back in his cold, deserted home, Jiang Shouzhong didn’t immediately go to sleep to awaken the Dream Mirror but just sat on a chair, staring at the window blurred by the hazy moonlight, quietly spacing out.

Partly out of worry, and partly because he felt no trace of sleepiness.

His nerves had been tense these past days, with cultivation, demons, and various unforeseen events, the weariness had penetrated deep into his bones, not something sleep could alleviate.

Only after finally resolving the major hidden danger for Zhang did Jiang Shouzhong’s mood relax significantly.

After closing the case tomorrow, he would rest well for a few days.

Of course, that was contingent on passing the Dream Mirror’s trial.

The cabin was pitch dark, utterly silent.

Jiang Shouzhong reminisced about the times in Anhe Village when, during moments of leisure and sleeplessness, he would do just as he was now, accustomed to being alone and quietly sitting in a pitched-black room to daydream.

He wouldn’t think of anything; he just let his mind wander blankly.

Even after he had gained a wife, this habit hadn’t changed.

However, the girl who loved wearing red would occasionally dart out from a corner, then lower her voice in a threatening manner, shouting, "The ghost is here!" to scare the man.

After many such occasions, Jiang Shouzhong seemed to develop a sixth sense.

Before the girl could jump out to frighten him, he would look towards the corner where she was hiding and smile slightly, "Come on out."

Then the girl in the red dress would emerge indignantly, hands on her hips.

Only when the man truly seemed scared, raising his hands high and shouting, "Ghost, spare my life," would the girl burst into laughter, proudly making a face she thought scary but was actually cute and silly, snorting, "Coward!"

Time and again, it seemed they would never tire, never grow bored or weary of it.

He loved watching her lively and annoyed expressions.

She loved seeing him "frightened" by her.

Their affection during their youth was pure and fortunate. No matter how bitter or harsh the feelings might become in the future, that moment was sweet.

At least in that moment, they felt that the phrase "forever and ever" was not that hard to write.

Ye once said that the hardest part of a relationship was not the waiting but the letting go.

To let go meant to become strangers upon meeting again.

"Hong’er..."

Jiang Shouzhong’s lips moved silently, murmuring, "Have you let go?"

The man felt very tired and weary.

Yet, he didn’t want to lie down on the bed to sleep, instead leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed.

Feeling like two little golden figures were unblocking his energy points.

In a trance, the girl’s graceful figure appeared before him, hands behind her back, smiling sweetly in a mischievous yet tender tone, "Brother Jiang, wake up, it’s just a dream."

Was it really a dream?

The man was happy yet fearful.

Happy, because it was only a dream; Hong’er hadn’t left, and Ye hadn’t died.

In the village, the carpenter grandpa would, as usual, hum a tune while sitting under the eaves with his wine gourd to cool off.

Ms. Lin, with her naturally loud voice, would chase her naughty son with a rolling pin. The dark-skinned child, Bull, would take a newly caught cricket to battle with friends beside the sandy ground outside the yard.

The shy Ying, holding a wooden basin by the river to do laundry, would occasionally steal a glance, hesitating whether to give away the carefully crafted insoles...

All these vivid villagers hadn’t died, and life in the tiny village remained peaceful and tranquil, with smoke curling up from the chimneys.

But Jiang Shouzhong was still fearful.

He feared he couldn’t wake up.

Yet, Jiang Shouzhong eventually did wake up, only to find himself faced with cold, lonely darkness.

The man’s eyes moistened.

As if possessed, he turned his head towards a dark corner of the house, whispering softly, "Come on out."

No one responded.

The cabin remained silent.

But the next second, a woman holding a knife slowly walked out from the corner.

Her knife blade was chillingly cold.

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