Ying Jing died, on a cold winter day when goose feathers of snow were drifting down.
She had a premonition long before.
Arranged everything in advance before leaving.
Including that letter that was never sent out.
-
The scenery at Yingshan is beautiful, located in a remote area, with few people coming and going.
On this day, there was a splash of red on the steps of the Half Mountain Road, slowly moving forward.
The woman's hands gripped the wooden stick, trembling slightly, with a thin layer of sweat showing on her forehead, beads of sweat sliding down her cheek.
She looked up at the remaining hundred steps of the staircase.
She tugged at the corners of her lips.
Stubbornly continued to climb upwards.
The sound of her heartbeat grew louder.
The little monk sweeping the floor saw her and dropped his broom, jogging a few steps to her side, held her sleeve, and supported her to the main hall.
"For several days in the Imperial City, it has been snowing heavily, and the plank road is covered with thick snow. Did you come alone?"
Ying Jing turned her head to glance at the little monk and said with a smile, "It's okay, the snow is just right. In a few days, the road up the mountain will be hard to pass with the heavy snow."
She walked a few steps forward alone and thought of something, turned back to look at the little monk. "It's been ten years, and now you're taller than me." Although she was smiling, the smile did not reach her eyes.
This reunion did not last long, and Ying Jing saw the abbot in a side hall.
Ying Jing went straight to the Buddha, knelt down on both knees, and clasped her hands devoutly.
Ten years ago, she accidentally crossed from the real world to a novel, becoming a female supporting character who would die if the plot wasn't followed. During these ten years, in order to become the obstacle to the male and female lead being together, she often courted death.
She resisted the plot, yet still could not escape the predetermined fate.
Finally managed to bring about her own demise.
The Ying Family was no more, her parents were gone, and her brother was also calculated into prison for opposing the male lead.
In the real world, Ying Jing died in a plane crash.
She was an orphan, with no ties to anyone.
It was the Ying Family that gave her warmth, gave her all the care.
Unfortunately, she was just a supporting character, forced to follow the plot.
Who would have thought that ten years would be the end of her life.
Ten years had worn away much of her character, no longer the bright and lovely girl at twenty, with intense melancholy accumulating in her eyes.
Yet she was still beautiful, standing firm in the tempestuous entertainment industry for ten years. Time did not take back her beauty with the passing years.
Even today, when speaking of beauty.
Globally, fans only acknowledged Ying Jing's beauty and acting skills.
Ying Jing touched the spot on her chest, feeling a bit of heat.
There, she had hidden a secret for ten years.
The abbot in the temple added some oil to the eternal lamp in the hall.
"Master, where do you think people go after they die?" This world, to her, was no longer just a book.
All the people around her were real, flesh and blood existences.
"Wherever Miss Ying wants to go, that place will be her final destination."
Is it really like that?
She chuckled softly.
After experiencing so much, Ying Jing still kept a clean place in her heart, holding on to the last hint of beautiful fantasy.
"I wish to start over. Without the shackles of the plot, with only a sincere heart, I could tell him that I like him." She expressed her love, much like the young girl whose heart fluttered upon seeing him.
Listening to the murmurs behind her, the master left the great hall, his gaze falling far away.
At this moment, there was a touch of black on the staircase of the hillside, and the snow fell even harder.
...
Ying Jing came out of the great hall and went toward the inner courtyard, the only clean place untouched by the snow. Looking up, the tall trees supported a small world beneath.
She sat on the bench under the tree.
Whether feeling the breath of death's approach or not, at some moment the snow stopped fluttering.
Ying Jing reached out her hand, catching a few snowflakes that fell down.
The brief sunset pierced the sky, reflecting a rosy hue.
The warm sunlight streamed down through the gaps in the tree branches.
She reached out and caught the warmth.
There was no trace of pain on her face; she was smiling.
Reflecting on her brief life, until her vision gradually blurred, she seemed to see a familiar figure appear at the road's end.
That person came amidst the sweeping snow, yet was warm all over.
He gently held her in his arms.
Unfortunately, she seemed unable to hold onto him.
"Ying Jing," he called her name in a low, hoarse voice, stroking her soft hair again and again, unwilling to let go.
"Mm, I'm here." She responded to him, he was her ten-year-long dream, a cherished affection she dared not speak.
In this life, she had wronged too many people.
She gripped his hand tightly. "My brother, he is innocent. I beg you to save him."
The handsome man, full of weariness, gently caressed her cheek repeatedly, agreeing to all her requests.
That's good.
That was all she could do.
No, there was one more very important thing.
"Wen Fucheng, have I ever told you that I really like you?" From the beginning, in a book, somehow those cold words gained life and leaped into her life. "You are not nonexistent; you have always been there." Always in her heart. "If this is a dream, could you stay a little longer in my dream?"
She regretted, regretted all those years.
Once saying it was impossible, sending him abroad for so many years.
Yet he quietly watched over her in a foreign land all those years.
She knew he would always be there, watching her from afar, so she fought desperately to climb to the highest place of starlight.
She wanted him to know that, though they couldn't be together, Ying Jing always stood in a place he could see at a glance.
He held her as he repeatedly kissed her delicate eyebrows, telling her over and over that this wasn't a dream.
She knew that.
Yet, she still had to find her dream.
If there's a next life. Without the forced plot, the road she wants to walk must lead to him.
Unimpeded.
She was like a butterfly, thinking she wouldn't fall into a flower, yet chose to die beneath one in the end.
Making him her way home.
-
The world all knew that Ying Jing, the most legendary actress of Hua Country, liked Lu Zishu of the Lu Family, pursuing for ten years not changing her original intention, finally committing suicide at thirty after watching Lu Zishu marry another.
Thus, the legend of a generation came to an end.
People sighed with emotion.
What a pity, what a pity.
To fall for love to such an end.
Later, it was said that a high monk from a temple once mentioned!
"That person! Never loved Lu Zishu, it was never him."
Words from a monk should be taken with a grain of salt.
-
Three years later, Wen Fucheng, the richest man in Hua Country, stepped down for his nephew.
Donated all his wealth to society.
Disappeared at the age of forty-three.
Speaking of him, perhaps only the deceased legendary actress could match the legends about him.
A year later, another new grave was added beside the solitary tomb.
One had engraved: Beloved, Ying Jing.
The other read: Wen Fucheng.
-
Once met Wen Fucheng in youth, delayed ten years of life.
The lovely twenty-year-old girl returned home, storming through heavy doors.
Words yet unspoken, the man standing in the courtyard turned around to look at her.
The afternoon sunlight shone on him.
It was a warmth penetrating through time, landing gently in her heart as well.
She stared at him in a daze.
Ying Jing always remembered that summer, even the blowing wind tasted sweet.
He said his name was Wen Fucheng.
She spoke all her love to the only person who knew the past life's affairs.
Accompanied by the oil's exhaustion and the lamp's extinguishment, all past events would be buried with time.
-
Ding~
The countdown to rebirth begins.
Ten
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Nine
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Eight
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