Villainous Cao Cao: Inheriting Everything from the Chosen One

281: Implanting Reincarnation Memories (Part 2)Liaochen!

It really was him.

He wasn’t dead.

He was alive.

And he had always been looking for her, always protecting her in secret.

Shen Ruyan’s heart pounded wildly, nearly bursting through her chest.

She wanted to rush out, throw herself into his arms regardless of everything, shout his name aloud, ask him how he had spent the last ten years, and tell him that she had never forgotten him, not for a single day.

But her feet were nailed to the ground, unable to move.

Ten years had passed; things had changed, people were different.

He was the leader of the Wandering Heroes, renowned throughout Jiangnan for upholding justice.

She was an orphaned girl whose family was ruined, wandering everywhere.

What use was meeting?

To tell him about the suffering she endured over the years?

To make him feel guilty?

To put him in a difficult position?

Or to drag him back into this endless danger?

She could only bite her lip tightly until she tasted blood, letting the hot tears fall, but daring not to make a sound.

She watched helplessly as he bent down to pick up the mask on the ground, put it back on his face, covering the face that was etched into her Soul.

Then, just as silently as he had arrived, he vanished into the vast darkness of the night.

From beginning to end, he never noticed the figure crying her eyes out in the shadows.

For the next three years, as she traveled across various parts of Jiangnan, she always heard news about him.

He saved the people from distress, opening granaries and distributing food.

He punished corrupt officials and pleaded for the people.

He organized the Righteous Army to resist the heavy taxes and tyranny of the Imperial Court.

She always managed, through repeated coincidences, to avoid life-threatening dangers and pursuits.

She knew he was protecting her.

He was always there, silently guarding her where she couldn’t see him.

Until that day.

The Imperial Court was finally enraged and mobilized a large army to suppress the Jiangnan Righteous Army.

He led the remaining subordinates, holding a lone city to buy the last bit of time for the citizens and the families of the Righteous Army to evacuate.

Shen Ruyan moved against the flow in the fleeing crowd.

She passed through broken walls and ruins, stepped over bloody mud, and dodged stray arrows and flying stones, with only one thought in her mind: to see him! She absolutely had to see him! Even if it was the last time!

Finally, she saw him in front of the city gate, which was about to be smashed by the enemy’s massive battering ram.

He wasn’t wearing a mask; he was in a blood-stained white Martial Suit.

The fabric, the pattern of the stitching... Shen Ruyan’s tears instantly poured out!

That was the fabric she had clumsily patched, stitch by stitch, onto his always-torn gray monk’s robe back then!

He had actually kept it and made it into battle attire!

The long sword he had carried for many years was broken, only a half-stump remaining.

His body was covered in wounds, his white clothes stained red, yet his spine remained straight, like an eternal monument, blocking the city gate.

And before him was the overwhelming Imperial Army charging forward!

He saw her too.

Across the sky full of smoke and fire, the rolling thick smoke, the fleeing and crying crowd, their eyes met.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

He was clearly stunned, seemingly not expecting to see her here.

Immediately afterward, a smile slowly curved upon his blood-stained lips.

The smile was pure and warm, stripped of all the coldness of the Jianghu and the brutality of the battlefield.

Just like the little monk who had blushed fiercely and fled in disarray when she teased him deep within the peach forest years ago.

His lips moved, and across the vast distance and noise, he silently spoke two words:

”Hurry, leave.”

Then, he resolutely turned around, his back to her, facing the surging masses of enemy troops.

He forcefully plunged the remaining half of the broken sword into the dirt.

Slowly, he clasped his hands together and closed his eyes.

Shen Ruyan’s heart violently seized up at that moment, almost stopping!

An extreme coldness instantly erupted from head to toe!

She suddenly understood something! She understood the meaning of that smile! She understood what he was about to do!

”No—don’t—!!! Liaochen! Don’t!!!”

She let out the most mournful cry of her life, rushing forward regardless of everything! Pushing aside those blocking her path, falling, getting up, and continuing to charge!

But it was too late.

Blinding golden light suddenly burst forth from his clasped body!

The light instantly engulfed the dozens of iron cavalry charging at the front, and also engulfed the spot where he stood, engulfed the half-broken sword, engulfed the blood-stained white clothes... “The monk’s robe stained with blood is heavy; the cut blue thread of attachment is light...”

She collapsed on her knees in the distance, watching the peak of the light turn into a patch of scorched nothingness.

The Safety pouch she had tightly clutched, which she had specially sought for him on the escape route, slipped weakly from her hand and fell into the mud.

”Liaochen—!!!”

A scream so mournful it sounded inhuman was completely drowned out by the destructive explosion.

He burned his Soul, burned his life, unleashing a forbidden Buddhist technique of mutual destruction, just to hold back the enemy longer, so that more people.

Including her, could escape... Hanshan Temple, in front of the Ancient Buddha Hall.

The oil lamp flickered like a bean, casting wavering shadows.

Shen Ruyan, who had shaved her hair and was dressed in a monk’s robe, knelt on the icy prayer mat.

The dim yellow light reflected her pale, haggard face; her once lively eyes now held only silent, dead ashes.

Before her lay a hand-copied copy of the Sutra of the Past Vows of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. The ink wasn’t completely dry; the handwriting was delicate but permeated with an indescribable sadness.

”Searched Reincarnation for a hundred lifetimes but found him not, only seeing Bodhi but not the Lord...”

She whispered this poem, which she seemed to have heard somewhere, her fingertips trembling as she traced the damp ink on the sutra, tears silently dripping, spreading dark rings on the paper.

After his death, she scattered the last of her family wealth, performed many good deeds, and accumulated Karma.

Finally, after all worldly affairs were settled, she returned to Hanshan Temple and became a nun.

Not to chant Buddhist scriptures or seek tranquility, but only to be closer to him, closer to the memories that held him.

Day and night, she copied sutras, not to transcend the deceased, but to pray, to pray that in the endless Reincarnation, she could meet her Liaochen again, even if only for a fleeting brush past, even if only to glimpse him from afar.

”Buddha.” She pressed her forehead against the cold, hard floor tiles, her voice trembling greatly, filled with endless humility and pleading: ”Your devoted follower, Shen Ruyan, does not seek eternal life, does not seek blessings, does not seek liberation, only seeks... only seeks to meet him again in the next life.”

”Even if it’s just for a glance, even if the price is Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, never to be reborn.”

The oil lamp burned brightly, and the Buddhist incense smoke curled up.

The Buddha statue looked down with lowered eyes, showing compassion for all living beings, remaining silent throughout.

One year passed, then another.

The peach blossoms bloomed and faded; the temple bell chimed morning and evening.

She knelt before the Buddha for fifty full years, copying five thousand scrolls of sutras.

On the day of her death, the peach blossoms outside the window were perfect.

She lay in the simple Zen room, holding a pouch that had long faded to white, its edges worn, yet still clean.

The stitches for the two characters, “Safety,” on the pouch were still clear.

Looking at the pink petals drifting outside the window, a faint light finally appeared in her eyes, which had been silent for fifty years, and a very faint smile slowly lifted her pale lips.

Her consciousness, like a candle flickering in the wind, slowly faded away.

Before the final dissipation, she used all her heart and strength to make one last vow, her only obsession:

”Liaochen, wait for me.”

”No matter how many times I undergo Reincarnation, no matter what I become, no matter what price I have to pay.”

”I will surely find you.”

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