The villain who never surrenders [Quick Transmigration]

The word "take care" that came out of Zhong Shuyi's mouth caused Rong Ling to tilt his head: "What do you mean?"

"From now on, take care of yourself." Zhong Shuyi looked at her softly, "I have something to do, so I'm leaving first."

Perhaps the afternoon sun was so hot that Rong Ling couldn't help being dizzy: "Come on, where are you going?"

Zhong Shuyi didn't answer, just looked at her quietly.

Rong Ling lost his mind for a moment, and felt that such eyes seemed familiar, telling her not to ask any more questions, but also knew Zhong Shuyi's intentions.

The answer is already self-evident, the world is so big, Zhong Shuyi has already lost his home.

But more people, they could have a family.

Zhong Shuyi wants to protect their home.

Zhong Shuyi didn't say a word, but Rong Ling guessed it.

When she spoke, she realized that her voice was trembling: "Do you know what you are going to do?"

The road ahead is dangerous, if Zhong Shuyi leaves like this, maybe today will be the last time they meet.

Zhong Shuyi looked at her intently, and after a long time, she said, "A Ling, wait for me."

"Who is waiting for you?" Rong Ling seemed to be stabbed hard by a thorn, she suddenly took half a step back and raised her head, "Zhong Shuyi, who do you think you are?"

Zhong Shuyi was not surprised by her reaction.

She moved her fingers hanging by her side, as if she wanted to touch Rong Ling's face, but finally she lowered her eyes, did nothing, picked up her luggage, and left.

Rong Ling was stiff all over, and stood there watching Zhong Shuyi's back as he left.

I don't know when, the once thin and slender woman's figure has become tall and straight, like a stalk of bamboo, and like a sharp sword.

In this long alleyway, she left in the opposite direction from Rong Ling, her steps still not hurrying.

Rong Ling wiped the tears at the end of her eyes with the back of her hand, regained her footing, turned around, and knocked on the lacquered mahogany door in front of her.

.

After parting with Zhong Shuyi that day, Rong Ling never shed tears again.

The sun and the moon change, and in this land, new things are happening every day, even the weakest scholar can't care about the sorrow of spring and autumn, let alone Rong Ling who is bumping into it.

It had only been half a year since the new school site landed, and the war was raging southward like a raging fire. Rong Ling had to relocate to the deeper southwest along with the teachers and students of the school.

Every day when I open my eyes, there is a new itinerary. The journey is tiring, and the road is long and obstructive. Rong Ling can sleep well every day, which is the happiest thing.

Those days of having fun in Beiping seem to be as long as the previous life.

Almost a year later, Rong Ling unexpectedly received a letter from a stranger.

The person who sent the letter was very mysterious, dressed in a low-key manner, just delivered the letter to Rong Ling, and left without saying a word.

Rong Ling opened the envelope and unfolded the letter paper. The moment he saw the graceful yet calm handwriting on the paper, his heart trembled suddenly.

It was Zhong Shuyi, she was still alive.

Rong Ling originally thought that he had already buried this person in his memory, but now that the thin layer of dust covering it was blown away, Zhong Shuyi's eyebrows and eyes clearly appeared in front of her eyes.

There were only a few words in the letter: "A Ling, Zhan Xinjia, everything is fine, don't read."

The original smile on Rong Ling's face froze, he crumpled it into a ball and threw it on the table.

If she really wanted to refrain from reading it, then why did she have to ask someone to send this letter from far away? Wouldn't it be unnecessary?

Rong Ling's mind was empty and chaotic. He sat on the chair, and the voice of the junior students sang the school song came from outside the window: "The West Mountain is green, and the Dian River is vast. This is no longer Bohai Taihang, this is no longer Hengyue Xiaoxiang..."

She was in a school building where there was air and water leakage everywhere, and a spider bigger than a palm rested on the mottled wall.

The environment here is not as good as the former Rong Zhai in every way, but it is not without advantages, at least the roar of artillery fire cannot be heard, and the displacement cannot be seen. The environment is unprecedentedly peaceful.

Rong Ling sat for a while, then reached out his hand out of nowhere, picked up the letter, opened it, and smoothed it with the palm of his hand.

The letter paper was not clean, it was stained with mud, and there were some dark brown marks, which seemed to be smudged blood droplets, and the margins were also curled up, which was set off by Rong Ling's fair fingers.

Rong Ling read the letter once, couldn't hold back, and read it a second time.

Finally, she folded it and put it in the desk drawer, at the bottom of a pile of courseware.

Since then, she has always received letters from Zhong Shuyi, sometimes a few months apart, sometimes more than a year.

Most of the letters were just a few words, telling Rong Ling not to worry about her.

Who is worried about her?

She didn't even bother to answer these letters once.

While thinking this way, Rong Ling stored them in the same corner of the desk drawer.

The envelopes piled up day by day and became thicker. After graduating from university, Rong Ling left school and went to Chongqing to meet her parents. I don't know how Zhong Shuyi's people found her.

Mrs. Rong accidentally learned of Zhong Shuyi's letter to Rong Ling, and couldn't help sighing: "Oh, I don't know when this war will end?"

Rong Ling, who was cleaning the desk lamp, paused: "It will always end."

At that time, when Zhong Shuyi came back, Rong Ling would definitely ask her face to face, what was the meaning of sending herself so many letters, but refusing to say a few more words on them?

But in the past eight years, except for Zhong Shuyi's letter, Rong Ling did not wait for her in person.

The news in the newspaper is changing every day. The Japanese have long since been defeated and withdrew. Rong Ling moved to Nanjing with his parents and his family, but the war is not over yet.

Mrs. Rong advised Rong Ling privately: "Don't let other people know about the letters that Shuyi sent you. You know, she and we...are not the same person now."

"I see, Mom." Rong Ling frowned and agreed.

After Mrs. Rong left, Rong Ling sat on the chair, rubbed the center of her eyebrows a little tiredly, and smiled mockingly—maybe, she would never see Zhong Shuyi again.

If I knew this earlier, I should have asked clearly when we parted.

Ask her exactly what that kiss meant to her, whether she regards herself as her deceased husband's younger sister, or...

For so many years, no matter how Mrs. Ren Rong persuaded her, Rong Ling had no intention of getting married.

She couldn't tell why she persisted, maybe it was for such an answer.

Unfortunately, the answer can no longer wait.

On the day of leaving, the sun was so clear that it was the same as before, and Rong Ling looked a little dazed: "Mom, now that the war is over, do we still have to leave?"

"How can we make it if we don't leave?" Mrs. Rong is also reluctant to leave, but everything can't tolerate them, "We are the ones who lose now, if we stay longer, we won't be able to guarantee our future life..."

Master Rong also persuaded her: "A Ling, you are not a child anymore, you should also know the principle of keeping a low profile. If you leave now, there will always be a time to come back in the future."

Rong Ling half-understood this principle: "Go away, I can stay here alone."

Mrs. Rong was not willing to let her alone, she immediately burst into tears: "A Ling, Mom only has you as a daughter now, if you don't leave, how can I feel relieved, how can I just leave?"

"Yes, Ah Ling, stop being a child."

Rong's parents, you and I persuaded each other, in their eyes, Rong Ling has no reason not to leave.

After all, they were close blood relatives, Rong Ling couldn't resist them, and the family boarded the car to Guangzhou.

After that, take a ship and cross a wide strait.

It was agreed to come back, but never waited until the time to go back.

The flames of war had long since subsided, and the copper lock was covered with dust, but the sky turned blue day by day.

In the autumn of Beiping, the vast blue is restored again.

Rong Ling never had a chance to see her again.

.

When I wrote this letter, New China had been established nearly 40 years ago.

The content of the letter is very simple, just a few words: "Everything is fine, don't read."

The person who wanted to send the letter was a lady. She looked elegant and behaved. Even though she was a little old, her long hair was still carefully tied behind her ears. She was wearing a cheongsam, and she would arrange the hem of the skirt first when she sat down.

Such a lady looks like Miss Jiao who was raised by a rich family in the past. She should be able to write well, so there is no need to ask me as a ghostwriter.

I folded the letter paper and put it in an envelope. I gestured and asked her what to fill in the address.

I am a mute, and I can barely communicate with people by gestures.

The lady in front of me named Rong Ling was just passing by, but when she saw this scene, she stopped for some reason and sat down in front of my stall.

What is amazing is that, without knowing what she has experienced, she can also sign language.

When I asked about the address, she was slightly dazed, not knowing how to answer.

I am not surprised by such a situation. Since the authorities allowed to send letters to the other side, there have only been a lot of people looking for ghostwriters. When asked about the address they want to send, these elderly people will inevitably be unable to answer. .

I just remember it was my hometown.

Rong Ling lowered his head and thought for a long time, where would Zhong Shuyi be now?

Whether she stayed in Peiping, or went to other places, maybe I haven't seen her for more than 40 years, this person has long since ceased to exist...

As soon as this idea came up, Rong Ling's eyes were a little blurred because of his age, and he found that everything around him was turning into fragments, being swallowed up by the darkness bit by bit.

The darkness covered her, including the letter writer who had communicated with her just now, and was also engulfed in it.

It was she, she died.

Rong Ling staggered back three or two steps, this thought subconsciously popped up in his mind, and all the past events swept over him.

The bet rings in my ears: "Bet on the last illusion, whether you can settle with me or not."

"Both of you and I will block the memory and start over from the beginning. If nothing happens, I will never have any entanglement with you again after we get out of the illusion."