Incapable de respirer

Chapitre 6

The ground trembled. It was clearly Lan Ruo's face; could it be Lan Ruo's ghost?! Lan Pu

She couldn't help but reach out to touch his cheek, but then withdrew her hand in disappointment.

How could an eight or nine-year-old boy like this be possible? Lan Pu sighed softly.

"Was that you reciting the words just now?" In the flickering red candlelight, the child's face and...

A strange glint appeared in his eyes. But he smiled sweetly, "Yes, it was Dad who taught me to recite it."

"Sister, did I memorize it well?" He still had a sweet smile on his face. "Good..." Lan Pu followed.

She answered, still lost in thought about the woman named Lian Su. Lian Su's expression changed drastically upon hearing the recitation.

Judging from the expression on the instrument, the lyrics and music must be related to events from that time.

janeadam

Reply [11]: I must recognize her, I must, our past life... Lanpu held her head in anguish.

She vaguely sensed some pain and resentment that had occurred hundreds of years ago; she actually hated me for hundreds of years.

Years... what deep resentment sustained her through her wandering soul journey, even at the cost of giving up the chance to be reborn as a human?

Why does the lonely ghost still refuse to give up? Is love and hate forever so deeply intertwined?

"Deeply etched in my heart?" She groaned softly. She knew Lian Su would come looking for her again. She wasn't afraid.

What she feared was the resentment that had accumulated within her for centuries. What she feared was reliving those unbearable memories.

The suffering of the first person's past life.

The boy reached out and gently took Lanpu's hand. "Sister, let's go..."

His hands were warm and soft, allowing Lan Pu to clearly feel his presence. She stared blankly at him.

After walking the boy forward for several dozen meters, they realized they had left the Jiangnan Garden area and were standing...

On the highway.

When Lanpu hailed a taxi, he looked around and realized that the boy was already there.

They disappeared into the night just as inexplicably as they had come.

Lan Pu didn't want to go to work these past two days. She took sick leave and stayed home to rest. She just felt...

My mind is in turmoil. A flood of memories rushes into my mind, yet I can't make sense of any trace of the past.

She always remembered that dream from her senior year of high school, of Lian Su wearing pink lotus-embroidered shoes, and that girl with the face of Lan Ruo.

A little boy who appeared and disappeared mysteriously. She didn't even know if she had really encountered such a child or...

It was a dream; she didn't even know his name, but the warm feeling he left in her palm...

It was so real.

Lan Pu turned on her computer, intending to write something, but found she couldn't write anything. She tidied up casually.

Still feeling unsettled, I lit some sandalwood incense, read a bit of Zhuangzi, and then...

Hidden in the distance, the imagery of "a city shrouded in mist and water, the moon faintly visible, a person leaning on a small boat singing...gazing at the distant blue clouds" came to mind.

"Sorrowful..." So he took out his flute and leaned against the window, playing it. When the melancholy sound of the flute began...

By then, the moonlight was already pouring out like water before the window.

As the flute music played, Lan Pu gradually calmed down again. Things come like the wind, but their passing is uncertain.

Clouds lingered in her heart. Lan Pu thought softly, what's coming will inevitably come; there's no escaping it. Facing the window...

The platform was bathed in the soft, flowing moonlight, and Lanpu played the flute, softly reciting: "In the vast, boundless furnace, what is not..."

Cold flight? How many ancient and modern times have passed, desolate smoke and ruined ramparts, old trees and desolate terraces? The Taihang Mountains are like a whetstone, the Yellow River like a belt, and so on.

Dust! No need to sigh anymore, flowers bloom and fade, spring comes and goes… No need to sigh anymore, flowers bloom and fade…

Spring comes and goes... Lanpu was mesmerized.

A series of urgent knocks pierced the door curtains. Lan Pu listened to Wan'er's familiar, drum-like knocking.

Frequency couldn't help but smile slightly. She must have returned from some battle someday. She opened the door, and Wan...

The child rushed into the room as if fleeing a disaster, collapsed onto the sofa, and this time didn't yell, "Water!"

He exclaimed, "It's him! It's him!" "Who is he?" Lan Pu asked, bewildered.

"The man who followed us at Huayan Temple, he's downstairs right now!" Wan'er

She was absolutely furious. "What's so great about this?" Lan Pu smiled faintly and turned away.

"He probably lives nearby too." "Hmph!" Wan'er jumped up, grabbed Lan Pu, and dragged him straight to the book...

Standing by the window, he said, "See for yourself!"

The moonlight that night must have been just as gentle and hazy as it was five hundred years ago. And it was in this way...

In the moonlight, as gentle as water, a light breeze rustled through the chinaberry tree in the courtyard. A few crows occasionally cried out.

Intermittent hissing.

The courtyard is deep and quiet, the small garden empty, the intermittent sound of a pestle striking the ground, the intermittent sound of the wind. Alas, the night is long and no one is awake, only the sounds of the pestle and the wind.

The moon shone through the curtains. The sound of the flute still lingered in the air, and Lan Pu had already sadly stopped playing, quietly…

She murmured softly. The moonlight, like water, spilled across the hem of her pale purple skirt, and in the moonlight, her slender hands resembled jade carvings.

Under the full moonlight, Lanpu nestled by the window, gazing wistfully at the azure sky. The sky was filled with...

The starlight faded into the moonlight.

Today is the auspicious day for Lian Su's wedding. However, her own cousin, Lan Pu, is feigning illness and staying alone.

The west wing. At this moment, the newlyweds have probably already completed their wedding ceremony and entered their bridal chamber. Lan Pu gently bit her lip, feeling a pang of pain.

My heart bleeds, yet I refuse to let the tears fall. So be it, so be it, fate plays cruel tricks, all is lost! Liver

She was bound to be heartbroken and filled with unbearable sorrow. Lan Pu sighed softly, and a single tear finally rolled helplessly down her cheek.

"Miss," Xiangchen called timidly from the study doorway. Lanpu subtly wiped...

He wiped away the faint tear stains. "What is it?"

"Outside the wall..." Lan Pu's heart skipped a beat. Turning her head, she saw a slender figure...

Trembling, her pale purple dress seemed about to flutter. It was him, it was him! He was standing there, mesmerized, beneath the wall.

He stared intently at her. The moonlight clearly outlined his figure, his silhouette distinct.

It was the shadow that lingered endlessly in Lan Pu's heart, day and night. His face was backlit by the moonlight...

The scene was dim, yet those eyes… those eyes that were deeply etched into Lan Pu's heart… Lan Pu almost…

She fainted. "Xia Lang..."

janeadam

Reply [12]: Five hundred years later, the moonlight is still as clear as water, the silhouette is still so clear, and he is still so infatuated.

Standing beneath his window, his eyes were fixed on her. "Xia Lang!" Lan Pu felt the world spin around her.

Lian Su, Lan Ruo, Xia Lang! All the barriers blocking memories suddenly collapsed, revealing a scene from five hundred years ago...

Under the same moonlight, in the same shadow, and in Xia Feng's unchanging gaze, suddenly...

The journey back to the present moment.

Gale-force winds and torrential rain. Twisted bolts of lightning tore through the night sky. Rushing sand and gravel raged wildly...

The plain paper windowpanes were worn and riddled with holes from the knocking, and the cold wind, carrying icy rain, relentlessly pounded on the thatched door. Little...

The dusty hermitage seemed destined to be submerged in the torrential rain.

Lanpu, holding a lamp, walked towards the temple gate, intending to close the door that was being relentlessly pounded on. Suddenly, he noticed something leaning against the door...

What was that? A tiny, white ball. A lost kitten? Lanpu lovingly picked it up.

Get up. A soft gasp of surprise escapes my lips: it's a tiny white fox! It's so small and weak...

Sheng frantically tried to burrow into her arms. "Poor little thing," Lanpu said affectionately, stroking him.

He stroked its head. The thunder suddenly grew even more violent. The white fox trembled in Lan Pu's arms. Lan

Pu chuckled softly. "Little thing, you're not a fox spirit, why are you so afraid of thunder?!"

She carried the white fox back to the cold, quiet room. Lanpu lit the lamp. Ancient scrolls and lamplight were piled up by the bedside.

Lanpu slowly untied the hairpin that bound her hair, and her long, flowing black hair cascaded down her back. Her hair, cut only once, had grown long again.

"Torn hair still wounds the heart?" Lan Pu sat blankly by the bed, clutching her hands full of tears.

The severed hair has grown back. How are Xia Lang and Lian Su doing?

The moonlight remained as gentle as water. Lan Pu stood upstairs, lost in thought, gazing at the same obsessive gaze.

His eyes. Tonight was supposed to be Xia Lang and Lian Su's wedding night, so why did he appear in his...

Downstairs?! Lian Su, Lian Su also loved Xia Lang so passionately, Lian Su! Lan Pu's heart

Suddenly, her body trembled violently. Tears of pain threatened to break free of her defenses, and Lanpu cried out softly.

With a cry of "No!", she slammed the window shut and ran back to her room as if fleeing. She collapsed onto the bed, trembling uncontrollably.

Shaking, tears finally flowed silently into the boundless night.

Why did that encounter have to happen?! Why can't we be together even though we love each other?! Lan Pu whispered...

The earth asked. Why did that kite with its broken string fall into his hands?! A kite with a broken string, forever...

Since it's just a broken line, why not let it drift away on its own?

The young page brought over a kite with a broken string and quietly asked Xiangchen, who was smiling behind her sleeve, "May I ask, sister,..."

"Who are those two ladies upstairs?" Xiangchen snatched the kite and ran off laughing.

His figure lingered outside the courtyard from then on. Xiangchen would often quietly approach the two young ladies.