Chapter 72: Back to Reality

Chapter 72: Back to Reality

Liang Zeqian wanted to say more but fell silent, ultimately holding his tongue.

At least, she was now clear on these two points.

Over the years, he had delved into physics, studied humanity and galaxies, and understood that both extraterrestrial life and human technology possessed aspects of good and evil. One could not simply label something as evil merely because it was "non-human."

His wife, he was certain, was a benevolent entity from beyond.

So fragile, direct, and delicate, yet striving so earnestly to please him—she must have endured immense suffering and humiliation.

The fear and dread in her eyes when he exposed her were the clearest proof; she must have been under someone's control.

After afternoon tea, Liang Zeqian felt much better. He decided to leave early and drive home himself.

Whether due to the weekend or some other reason, the road was unusually congested today, filled with police, doctors, and ambulances, creating a cacophony that grated on his nerves.

He suppressed his urgency to return home and closed the car windows.

The car inched forward for a long time before the traffic gradually cleared.

Before he even reached the Mid-Levels villa, he saw Zhengzai blocking the road with his car. Liang Zeqian immediately got out, anxious, and stopped him in his tracks.

Liang Zeqian rolled down the window, looking at him with surprise.

Zhengzai hesitated for a few seconds before finally speaking: "Third Young Master, hurry to the hospital! Miss Shen was in a car accident—she's not going to make it!"

The warmth and calm on Liang Zeqian's face instantly froze and shattered.

Zhengzai was pale, his lips trembling as he spoke rapidly: "It happened near the Central district offices. Miss Shen was hit by a taxi—she couldn't avoid it. Her arm was broken, and her condition is critical. She was rushed directly to the Hong Kong Sanatorium and Hospital! They told me to find you immediately—the company's phones were tied up..."

Liang Zeqian felt as if something exploded in his mind. The sound of the wind over Victoria Harbour, the honking of cars, Zhengzai's anxious words—all twisted into a sharp, buzzing noise.

The world instantly lost its color and shape. Only the words "car accident" and "not going to make it" repeatedly pounded in his ears and heart.

He pushed the car door open abruptly, his movements stiff and shaky from the immense shock.

Zhengzai quickly supported him: "Third Young Master!"

How he got to the hospital—that memory seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Strangely, he didn't cry or show obvious sadness. Instead, he felt lost and helpless.

His elder brother and sister-in-law had already gone to the hospital ahead of him.

In fact, by the time Liang Zeqian arrived, Shen Nanxi had just been pronounced dead.

When Shen Nanxi went to Central to bid him farewell, she was wearing a white dress. The system had been prompting her for so long, as if truly impatient, that it didn't even wait for her to wish for a good place to die before the taxi violently slammed into her.

Yet, she was unwilling; she was heartbroken, and she still wanted to see him one last time.

Even after her soul had departed, she stubbornly held onto her faint consciousness until Liang Zeqian arrived. She could feel that both her arms and legs were broken.

As her consciousness blurred, the sensation of pain gradually faded.

She seemed to see her husband standing at the emergency room doorway, looking dazed and helpless.

Silently, with an extremely faint thought, she asked about Liang Zeqian's favorability score one last time.

System: "100."

After that, she could no longer feel any consciousness from that body.

The doctor quickly covered her with a white sheet, pronouncing the patient deceased.

Liang Zeqian entered the morgue, staring blankly at the corpse before him. Blood had stained the clothes—how jarring it was.

For some reason, he wasn't sad. He didn't cry uncontrollably like his sister-in-law and Lola.

He wasn't deluding himself. He knew that even if this body was gone, there were others.

His wife was a wisp of a soul, a created robot, an assembled program—she couldn't simply vanish.

She would definitely come back to find him. She definitely would.

And he would easily recognize her, and they would rekindle their bond forever.

Shen Nanxi's broken limbs were reattached, her body dressed and made up. She looked very much like she was asleep, so peaceful.

No one could guess what this husband was thinking as he looked at the body at that moment.

Wen Yi rushed from Macau. When she saw her daughter's body, she cried hysterically, feeling as if her world had collapsed.

Her support, her hope for the rest of her life, her only daughter who had married into a wealthy family—was she truly gone just like that?

Shen Nanxi's death had no discernible impact on the Liang family. Even to outsiders, Liang Zeqian's expression didn't betray excessive grief.

When the family discussed the funeral, Liang Furong called Liang Zeqian alone into his study for a talk.

"She didn't participate in ancestor worship, bore no children, and hadn't even been married for a full year. I consulted three fortune-tellers, and all said her birth signs were incompatible with yours, very inauspicious. My suggestion is to discuss with Shen Hong and send Shen Nanxi's ashes back to Macau. This would be better for you, for the family, and for her."

It was only then that Liang Zeqian showed an expression—he let out a laugh.

Yes, she was very young, not recognized by the ancestors, had spent little time with the family, hadn't been pregnant, had no children, and hadn't been around long enough to qualify as a daughter-in-law of this family, let alone be buried in the ancestral grave.

His father surely thought that a few months of interaction couldn't have forged deep feelings—they weren't even an ordinary couple. Besides, their initial union had been reluctant from the beginning.

Liang Furong, seeing his son's bitter look, expected him to refuse but instead received an affirmative response.

Liang Zeqian: "Okay."

He was absolutely certain that "Shen Nanxi" was not his wife.

Then who was his wife? What was the name of the person he deeply loved? What did she look like? Was she human or ghost? He had no idea.

Since this body wasn't hers, let "Shen Nanxi" go back home—back to where she belonged.

If the real "Shen Nanxi" had a choice, she would never have chosen to marry him.

Knowing that this matter was underhanded, Liang Furong temporarily halted Liang Zefeng's acquisition plan for Shen Hong's shipping business, verbally assuring that they would "always be in-laws."

Liang Zeqian stood by the grave for a long while.

He was grateful to this body—thankful that it had provided his wife with a place to stay, saving her from drifting anymore.

After bowing low, he turned and left.

These days, no one bothered him again.

He looked at the empty room—everything remained the same, as though his wife had never left.

It wasn't until he randomly checked his voicemail that he realized she never got to hear his confession, his apology, or his promise to "let it go" before she died.

Liang Zeqian could no longer bear it. He staggered out into the bustling, crowded streets.

It had been a week. She should have returned by now; she should have come looking for him.

Did she really not miss him? Did she really intend to abandon him?

Or was the new body she ended up in not beautiful enough, and she was afraid he would dislike it?

No.

He never would.

Liang Zeqian scanned everyone on the street—men, women, old, and young—sure he'd recognize his wife at a glance. He was certain.

But no one on the street gave him a second glance.

Returning to Central in the evening, he saw on the table the torn plane tickets and notifications from before.

No longer able to deceive himself, he rushed into the bathroom, heartbroken, and threw up repeatedly.

He wavered back and forth about whether Shen Nanxi was "her" or not.

He kept trying to convince himself that that lifeless body could not possibly be his wife. He tremblingly replayed the recording, listening over and over, again and again.

Yet in the middle of the night, he would jolt awake again and again, trapped in the despair of her departure, mistakenly thinking he'd cheated and didn't love her.

But while he suffered, Shen Nanxi was going through the same.

Summoned back by the system, she lay there numb on the hospital bed.

By the time of her death, Liang Zeqian's love for her had maxed out at 100.

Shen Nanxi endured heartache and the torment of illness, as if countless venomous snakes were gnawing at her veins.

A healthy body—something she'd never have the chance to experience in this lifetime. She couldn't complete the mission, and she couldn't go back.

She was probably already put on the transmigration system's blacklist.

After this routine follow-up appointment, Shen Nanxi found the doctor to ask exactly how long she had to live, wanting an exact number.

The doctor comforted her as always: "As long as you keep your spirits up and receive treatment, you can live for several more years."

She lowered her head and said nothing.

Feeling slightly hungry, she bought some bread and went home. For the first time, she slept for a long time without coughing or pain.

She didn't want to recall the dream-like flashbacks, but no one knew she had lost the will to live and only wished to die soon.

Let it end like this—end the suffering of dragging out her life in this world.

One year had already surpassed all the happiness she had ever experienced in her lifetime.

She would remember him forever. Even if she ended up in the underworld, she would tell the Lord of the Underworld: she had been married; she had a husband.

Yet curiosity eventually drove her to explore Liang Zeqian's ending in the original story.

If she hadn't stopped him from fighting Liang Zefeng for power and wealth, the outcome might have been different. What exactly was his ending?

After struggling with it for a long time, Shen Nanxi bought the e-book, downloaded it to her desktop, and pressed Ctrl+F to search only for "Liang Zeqian."

The book mentioned him very little, and it didn't include any plot about him competing with the male lead for property.

Skimming toward the end, near the end of the original novel, his outcome was casually mentioned:

"Sometimes, Huang Rouer's young daughter would visit the lonely and disturbed uncle at the research institute on the hill."

Like a cold lightning strike, it shattered the numbness Shen Nanxi had wrapped around her heart.

Lost his mind? An uncle?

It couldn't mean Liang Zeyou.

Why?

Her mind went blank instantly, leaving only those words spinning and crashing wildly.

Shen Nanxi's tears fell instantly, and she broke down sobbing.

Why did the author use such a casual cruelty to assign such an ending to the man who had once been ruthless and brilliant in the business world yet showed softness and desperation in front of her?

A pushed aside and forgotten man who lost his wife, only existing as the "broken and lonely uncle" occasionally "visited" by a little girl?

Because his "disturbance," his "desolation," all his madness deviating from the "normal" track, stemmed from a "her" who shouldn't exist, couldn't be explained, and would be believed by no one.

Right, the people in the book wouldn't believe someone could become self-aware—because as soon as they did, they would be erased, killed.

Besides, Liang Zeqian's awakening had always been pointed in the wrong direction.

He was always worried about her, never himself.