Chapter 141: Spell

Chapter 141: The Spell

Lake was completely baffled; it seemed like his mind was all over the place. “Didn’t I set ‘See you tomorrow’ as a spell? Are you getting it mixed up?”

“…A spell?”

Ling Qingjue’s head was pounding, his brow knotted tight. He shook his head irritably, muttering under his breath, “A spell? That phrase was nothing but a spell?”

“You don’t know what it means?” Lake assumed he remembered everything.

Ling Qingjue pressed his lips together, sounding tired and flat. “Hell if I know.”

He just went to sleep, and when he woke up, there was an extra bracelet on his wrist.

And it held a moonstone that had been sanctioned by the laws of this world.

He had no idea why he was wearing it. He stared at it for ages but couldn’t remember getting it.

On the balcony, he saw those withered flowers again.

Other people might not have known what kind of flower it was, but Ling Qingjue, who loved tending plants, recognized it right away.

An everlasting flower.

His head was killing him. Why the hell was there an everlasting flower in his house? Who had given it to him?

The flower had died. Had he been dumped?

He checked his status: it still said single and available, nothing suspicious.

In this world, even after a breakup, the characters’ romantic history was supposed to be recorded by the world’s rules.

Ling Qingjue also checked his past relationship log, but it was empty.

He quickly figured out what was going on: he had been in a relationship with someone, but that person had left him and wiped every trace of themselves from this world.

But no matter how carefully they planned, they never expected that the moonstone wouldn’t be bound by this world’s rules.

And the everlasting flower stood for the truest love—even if the traces were erased, it wouldn’t vanish.

Who was that person?

Why didn’t they want him anymore?

Ling Qingjue tried all kinds of magic to get his memories back, but nothing worked.

He went into town and asked people, “Did I ever have a lover?”

Some didn’t know, others were shocked and asked, “Wait, you had a boyfriend?”

Ling Qingjue thought, so the person I liked never even existed.

When night came, the townspeople started getting ready for the Summer Festival the next day.

He was in charge of the festival’s soul-summoning ritual, and the town mayor dragged him over to draw the magic circle.

As he drew the circle, Ling Qingjue asked the mayor, “Do you know if I ever had a lover?”

The mayor burst out laughing. “Who in their right mind would keep a cat like you?”

“…You don’t remember either.” Ling Qingjue whispered softly, the moonstone on his wrist going dull and lifeless.

So cheap. That person actually gave him a glass bead? And he’d been happy to take it?

Ling Qingjue let out an angry laugh. So pathetic, wearing something like this. That person had dumped him, so he was going to chuck the bracelet right now.

He fumbled with the clasp in silence, maybe because he was too upset or something, but his hands kept shaking, and he couldn’t get it off.

“See you tomorrow.” The words came riding on the wind from a distance, landing perfectly in his ears.

Ling Qingjue went rigid, automatically looking up.

It was two young girls setting up the Summer Festival venue together.

After arranging the bouquets in the right spots, they smiled and said goodbye.

“The Summer Festival’s tomorrow—you absolutely have to come.”

“Haha, of course!”

“Then, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

…

See you tomorrow. See you tomorrow. See you tomorrow.

Ling Qingjue’s head started hurting again. Out of nowhere, a gentle, soft male voice whispered in his mind, right in his ear, “Cat, see you tomorrow.”

Was that… him? What did he look like? What was his name? Where had he gone?

Just those three words, “see you tomorrow,” made Ling Qingjue bolt like a scared cat.

He ran home and tore through everything like a madman, but there was only his own stuff—not a single thing left from that person.

Finally, under his pillow, he found the moonstone his mom had given him.

At that moment, Ling Qingjue actually laughed.

That person had even given back the moonstone, so why did he still say “see you tomorrow”?

He couldn’t remember a thing about him, only a blurry memory of “see you tomorrow” and the sense that he was a traveler from another world—because every time he saw the balcony, he felt like crying.

He felt like there should be a teleportation circle on the balcony.

That was all Ling Qingjue could remember about the person who had disappeared.

He sat on the balcony all night, like a man possessed.

When dawn came, the Summer Festival kicked off right on time, and the town quickly got lively, with crowds of people walking past even under his building.

The vines tapped his back with their leaves.

But Ling Qingjue suddenly asked out of nowhere, “Is it because the timing was off?”

He added, “I hate being lied to.”

Later on, Ling Qingjue had no idea how long he’d been waiting. He only had one thought left in his head: he had to see him—no matter what it took, he was going to bring him back.

Ling Qingjue walked into the Hall of Coronation one night.

Time flowed backward, and the years stood still.

Since Meng Shu left, his world had been frozen in the same day, never moving forward.

A long, interminable rainy day.

Ling Qingjue hated this rain.

But he hated even more the person who had left without saying goodbye.

He couldn’t recall that person’s face, couldn’t remember his name; he didn’t know where he had gone, nor where he had come from.

Ling Qingjue could only wait stubbornly.

At first, he was just angry, thinking that if that person came back, he would have to throw a fit for at least half a month before he could calm down.

But after waiting a hundred days, that person still hadn’t returned.

So Ling Qingjue thought again: as long as that person was willing to come back, he could let everything go and choose to forgive just like that.

He waited another hundred days, and that person didn’t return.

Ling Qingjue thought: if that person still didn’t come back, he would never forgive him again. No matter what reasons or excuses that person had, he would never be in a relationship with him again.

A hundred days flew by in an instant.

That person still hadn’t returned.

Ling Qingjue had already lost hope. He began to suspect that that person had long forgotten him, forgotten that he had a cat at Moon Bay, and would never come back to care for it.

He started to wonder if he was going crazy, that that person was just a hallucination, that soft male voice in his head was his alter ego, and everything related to that person was just a dream.

After a full four hundred and eighty days of waiting, Ling Qingjue met Lake.

The other simply told him the truth straightforwardly: that person was dead.

Not hiding somewhere and refusing to see him, not deliberately abandoning him.

Whether he was angry or sad, that person would never come back.

“See you tomorrow” was just a spell.

That was all.

And he foolishly had taken it as a promise, waiting for a tomorrow that would never come, enduring four hundred and eighty hated rains.