Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"You figured it out on the first day."

"What? The first day?" Although Lu Wanxiao knew that Song Changting had long noticed the difference between her and the original owner—since she hadn't tried to hide or pretend for even a second—she was genuinely surprised that he’d figured it out and confirmed she wasn’t the original on day one.

Song Changting nodded. "Mm."

His tone was so flat, his reaction so ordinary, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Then... don’t you have anything you want to say or ask?"

"No."

The answer was resolute. Lu Wanxiao nearly fell over.

Come on, dude, your wife has been swapped out. Can’t you at least show some reaction?

Even a little surprise, or curiosity about who she is, would be something.

Sure, she treated you terribly and didn’t do many decent things, but a whole person gets inexplicably swapped out like this, and you—living under the same roof—don’t bat an eye? Isn’t that a bit much?

Let alone anything else, aren’t you afraid?

Seeing Lu Wanxiao staring at him in disbelief, he took the initiative to speak. "You don’t need to look at me like that. The world is vast, and nothing is too strange. Many strange tales recorded in books are mostly fabricated, but some are real."

He paused, then added, "For instance, a spirit taking over a dead body—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. So nothing about this strikes me as odd."

"Ah, I see." Lu Wanxiao nodded in understanding and gave him a thumbs-up. "Impressive, bro. You’ve even witnessed something as horrifying as a spirit taking over a corpse."

No wonder he was so unfazed by his wife being swapped out—completely unfazed and unafraid. Turns out he’d seen this kind of thing before.

Having witnessed a spirit taking over a corpse firsthand—what else can you say but "awesome"?

But thinking about it, the original owner’s actions had truly chilled Song Changting to the bone. If she had shown even a little kindness to him or his brother, his attitude toward her being swapped might not have been so indifferent.

After all, no matter what, they were husband and wife. Though they hadn’t consummated the marriage, they had signed the marriage contract and performed the ceremony—recognized by the authorities.

Sigh~

Suddenly, a thought struck Lu Wanxiao. Something didn’t add up.

"Wait, even if my behavior was different from your wife’s before, how could you be so sure it wasn’t her? Couldn’t it be that she nearly got beaten to death and had a sudden epiphany, deciding to turn over a new leaf and live right?"

Wouldn’t that be a normal person’s reaction? Even if you’d seen a spirit taking over a dead body, who would jump to that conclusion just because someone changed their ways? It’s not like you’re in Uncle Ying’s line of work.

No, even Uncle Ying wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just from a few changes in someone’s words and actions. He’d need to observe before jumping to conclusions.

Song Changting, on the other hand, went straight to spirit possession and was so certain.

"A leopard can’t change its spots." Song Changting’s usually cool eyes grew two degrees colder. "And that day was her fated death."

In his past life, Lu Wanxiao had died that very day under Hunter Zhu’s fists. In this life, he had tried to stop her, wanting to save her.

She wouldn’t listen. She cursed him with the most vicious words, even pushed him away for getting in her way.

Despite all the wrong she had done, tearing the family apart, out of gratitude to her father, Scholar Lu, who had once saved his life, he still tried to dissuade her from going to Hunter Zhu.

He gave her a chance—she refused it.

When she was brought back, she wasn’t quite dead yet. He thought perhaps his rebirth had changed some outcomes from the previous life.

Indeed, the outcome was different, but in a different way—another soul had taken over her body, while the real Lu Wanxiao, just like in the previous life, died that day under Hunter Zhu’s fists.

Song Changting didn’t say this, so Lu Wanxiao naturally didn’t know. She was puzzled. "Fated death? How? Can you tell fortunes?"

Song Changting gave a light snort. "If someone doesn’t value their life, even heaven can’t save them."

In both lives, she had to go to Hunter Zhu that day, whether he advised her or not. So that day was indeed her fated death.

Lu Wanxiao deeply agreed. As the old saying goes, "Heaven-made calamities can be forgiven, but self-inflicted ones cannot be survived."

But something still felt off. She tilted her head, thinking. "Wait, wasn’t she still breathing? Otherwise, why didn’t you let Hunter Zhu just dig a hole and bury her? Why put her on the bed to wake up?"

Song Changting didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his gaze outside, his eyes growing distant. "At first, I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t until you helped cook after taking your medicine and brought me water to soak my feet that I was certain."

These were things the original Lu Wanxiao had never done and would never do.

If she were the one, forget helping cook or bringing him water—she’d be lucky not to curse and complain.

If a beating could make her reform, then none of what followed would have happened.

Those two years after his leg was broken had been awful and humiliating. Song Changting didn’t want to mention them again, so Lu Wanxiao didn’t press.

Somehow, at that moment, Lu Wanxiao felt that Song Changting was profoundly lonely and steeped in sorrow from deep within. Even though he looked the same as usual—calm in expression and tone, with no outward emotion—his presence radiated a deep loneliness and grief.

She wanted to give him a hug, but it clearly wasn’t the right time.

Lu Wanxiao’s eyes flickered. She set down the spatula, wiped her hands, walked over to Song Changting, and crouched in front of him, smiling.

"Alright, the bad days are over. Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Lu Wanxiao—Lu from the land, Wan for evening, Xiao for bleak." She extended her right hand in a handshake gesture.

"Lu Wanxiao?" He seemed surprised she shared the same name. He paused.

Lu Wanxiao nodded. "Yes, I share the same name as your wife. Maybe that’s why, by chance, I ended up here."

"Song Changting."

"I know." Lu Wanxiao beamed and nodded. "Our names are quite connected, actually. Both come from the same poem: 'Red leaves rustle in the evening breeze, a cup of wine at the long pavilion.'"

Before he could respond, she took his right hand and gave it a light shake. "So now we’re officially acquainted. I’ll be troubling you from now on."

She couldn’t leave anyway, and she couldn’t leave just yet. So she’d just have to impose.

"You..."

Song Changting wanted to ask if she wasn’t planning to leave, but as he watched her bustling at the stove, a ray of sunlight falling across her cheek, making her look lovely, he swallowed the words.