"Resent?" Meng Po sneered. "Ji Zhongkang regretted his whole life. When he fell into unconsciousness before his death, he still kept calling his name. He wrote in the edict that as long as her portrait is buried with you, your soul will be with you in every life.
to nai
In front of He Qiao, I was always filled with regrets, and kept begging the King of Hell to return my destiny to you. I was even willing to go to the sword and go into the frying pan, just to give her the blessing that should belong to her... After reading these things,
How can you ask her to complain?"
"...She should be complaining." Compared with what she did, these are trivial things!
"I once asked her what she wanted to say to you after seeing what your soul did in the underworld. How do you think she answered me?"[
Tang Ziqian raised his eyes and looked at Po Meng sadly.
"That silly woman! She doesn't want to feel guilty, and she doesn't want you to beg the King of Hell... She said that if we meet again by fate, she wants to hear you say sorry in person, and that will be enough." Po Meng turned her head and wiped the corners of her eyes.
tears, "So I thought, as an old woman, I should at least help her fulfill such a wish."
"..." Tang Ziqian was shaking uncontrollably.
She is really stupid, so stupid that it makes people feel bad.
For a man like him, for a man like him who chose the country and gave up her, is it worth losing seven lives?
My ears could no longer hear any sound, my eyes were blurry, and I could only vaguely see Po Meng's mouth opening and closing rapidly in front of my eyes.
The next second, his vision went dark, he collapsed on the ground, fell into darkness, and lost all consciousness.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying on the hospital bed.
He sat up and looked around subconsciously, looking for Po Meng.
The entry point is a white ward, with medical staff lowering their heads to record. There is no viewing platform or reincarnation mirror. This is a hospital ward.
The images seen in the reincarnation mirror flashed before my eyes like one scene after another in slow motion.
Is it a dream again?
This dream was so real that even the scratch marks left by Po Meng on his wrist were clearly visible before his eyes.
Sitting there in a daze, staring at the red marks on his hands, he couldn't tell whether it was a dream or reality.
He is Ji Zhongkang, an idle rich man... Tang Ziqian? Or are they all his different bodies and the same soul?
Po Meng has left, so no one can tell him the answer.