After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 22.4

When anxious, she liked to recite things.

Continuing like this, she had no idea how long it would take to find her.

She feared Song Shizhou might be here, afraid of alerting anyone, so she didn’t dare let Mia lead a search party. But she feared even more that Song Shizhou wasn’t here at all, that Lu Qi’s information was false, that Song Shizhou had already perished in that terrible accident… and that her rebirth was nothing but a delusion.

What if she had truly given up? What if Zhao Yiqing’s news had pushed her over the edge? What if Song Lanyi’s people had cornered her too harshly? What if she had met with another accident, truly lost to the abyss. Bai Ruowei pressed her lips together, the faint taste of blood spreading in her mouth.

She had bitten them again.

Flying Bird Town rarely saw outsiders. The place was remote, economically underdeveloped, and its residents seemed far more vigilant than Bai Ruowei had anticipated.

Unnaturally vigilant.

Miss Bai dressed inconspicuously, moving with little presence. After a few wary glances, the townsfolk found nothing amiss and returned to their own affairs.

This level of surveillance was nothing to Bai Ruowei. She pushed open the door of a shop and stepped inside.

It appeared to be a photo studio. The interior was unexpectedly cozy, a stark contrast to the shabby exterior. The walls were lined with sample wedding photos and children’s birthday portraits. The clothing textures and photography techniques were styles outdated by centuries, yet Bai Ruowei found herself lingering.

Noticing her interest, the shopkeeper approached.

“Hello, miss! Are you here for wedding photos? We’re currently running a promotion, 31% off!”

Bai Ruowei frowned slightly.

“I don’t need.”

The shopkeeper, oblivious to the fact that this lady was far too wealthy to care about discounts, assumed she was here for another type of photo.

“Oh, I see. We also have plenty of artistic portraits. Let me show you some samples.”

With that, the shopkeeper replaced the cheap wedding photos with other options.

As the wedding portraits were taken down one by one, Bai Ruowei’s heart gave an inexplicable shudder. Even her voice trembled faintly.

“I’d prefer to keep looking at the wedding photos.”

The shopkeeper had never encountered such a peculiar customer.

Though this lady dressed plainly and carried herself unassumingly, a closer look revealed she was no local. The town was small most residents were familiar faces. So she must be an outsider. But if she was just passing through, why would she want wedding photos taken in this remote little town? A spur-of-the-moment whim?

This might not be a sale after all.

The shopkeeper sighed. It was the off-season for weddings, and their main business was wedding photography. These days, they barely saw a decent customer in a week.

Resigned, the shopkeeper quietly replaced the remaining wedding photos.

Every person in the photo wore an identical smile mechanical, cheap, and fragile happiness. Yet even such fragile happiness was something Bai Ruowei had once almost possessed. Unconsciously, she reached out, her fingers tracing those seemingly within-reach smiles through the glass of the frame.

Though the faces were different, the longer she looked, the more they seemed to morph into Song Shizhou’s and her own.

This made her instinctively smile, but soon, her trembling eyes brimmed with emotion.

She tried to console herself in another way perhaps in her past life, she had loved too fiercely, exhausting all their shared fate. But she refused such an ending. She wanted a hundred years of harmony with Song Shizhou, an eternity together, an everlasting bond… Could her life truly be so brief that a mere few years could be called a lifetime?

She refused to believe it.

She refused.

If she refused, then no one could make her believe otherwise.

The photos seemed cursed Bai Ruowei’s hand burned with a sharp, itching pain as if electrocuted.

Then, amidst the sea of colorful wedding photos, a different hue suddenly caught her eye.

A single oil painting, nestled among layers of portraits, had gone unnoticed at first due to its lifelike precision, nearly indistinguishable from the photographs.

Bai Ruowei froze, then picked it up.

Vibrant strokes depicted a graceful silhouette, a muse rendered with countless meticulous details. Her eyes widened in silent shock. The brushwork was familiar. The colors were familiar. And the woman in the painting looked exactly like her.

Wasn’t this the painting Song Shizhou had once made for her? Why was it here?

Miss Bai’s mind spun. Instinctively, she bit her nails, a nervous habit when fear gripped her. Her body stiffened as she scrutinized every detail of the painting.

No.

This wasn’t her.

The painting wasn’t of her.

Miss Bai’s fists clenched.

Song Shizhou had never been particularly talented at painting, but in the past, she had only ever painted for Bai Ruowei. Those clumsy little sketches were things no one else would want, laughable if shown to others. Bai Ruowei had once mocked them mercilessly, critiquing every flaw from head to toe while Song Shizhou listened with an awkward, apologetic smile.

But those were hers.

Those were things Song Shizhou had given her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as Miss Bai wept, her heart shattered. In the past, if someone had seen her like this, they would have been inconsolable, how could their moonlit dream, their flower in the mirror, be so heartbroken? Especially if it was because of them. But now, there was no one. Song Shizhou was no longer by her side.

Bai Ruowei nearly rushed home right then to dig out that old painting and compare it to this one. But there was no point. That painting would never be found and even if it were, there was nothing to compare.

Song Shizhou’s skills had improved drastically. This painting was a masterpiece compared to the stingy, amateurish doodle from before. Bai Ruowei felt as if her entire body were burning. When Song Shizhou used to paint her, she would stare so intently that Bai Ruowei suspected she wasn’t really painting at all, just using it as an excuse to gaze at her openly.

She could almost see Song Shizhou’s smiling eyes again.

But now… she painted for someone else.

Miss Bai’s silence was profound, yet someone as dazzling as her still drew everyone’s attention even when quiet. The small photo studio owner, noticing the prolonged stillness, couldn’t help but approach curiously.

Perhaps too lost in her tears, Bai Ruowei had unknowingly removed her sunglasses, her face streaked with tears.

The shopkeeper was startled.

“Boss Lan, what brings you here?”

The people of Flying Bird Town had only ever seen Boss Lan, how would they know there existed a Miss Bai who bore a striking resemblance to her? But soon, the shopkeeper noticed something amiss. This woman’s demeanor differed from their Lan Chi, and the subtle details of her features weren’t quite the same.

Realizing her mistake, the shopkeeper barely had time to explain before the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against her waist.

” I won’t make trouble for you.”

“Take me to the person you mentioned.”

After days of overcast rain, a bright sunny day finally arrived. Song Shizhou tidied up the first floor. No one had come to buy paintings from Lan Chi today perhaps no one ever did so she indulged in an afternoon nap, and Song Shizhou had to call her repeatedly before she finally stirred.

Lan Chi took a sip of tea to soothe her throat, her voice thick with sleepiness, soft and sluggish.

This was the second painting Song Shizhou was making for her. Seated before the easel, she didn’t notice when Lan Chi appeared behind her. As autumn deepened, the temperature had dropped sharply. Lan Chi removed her usual dark green sweater and draped it over Song Shizhou’s shoulders.

The jacket carried a pleasant scent of grass and wood, like the air after rain or the lingering smoke of extinguished fireworks mixed with dust, a faint, melancholic fragrance.

Song Shizhou lowered her eyes and smiled.

“I haven’t finished yet. Why are you here already?”

Lan Chi studied the painting from behind.

“Of course, to check if you’ve been slacking off.”

Her voice was light, tinged with laziness.

Her hands rested casually on the easel as she yawned. Song Shizhou glanced back at her, splitting her focus between the painting and Lan Chi, her expression warm, eyes brimming with affection.

“With all your demands, how could I dare slack off?”

The peaceful moment was intoxicating, as if it could last forever. But soon, the sound of shattering glass shattered the tranquility. Startled, Song Shizhou looked down through the window.

It was her.

Bai Ruowei stood in the front corridor, her gaze fixed solely on Song Shizhou.

“Song Shizhou, you’re alive. I knew you weren’t dead.”

She had crossed mountains and rivers, exhausted every effort, devised countless plans.

And finally, she had found the person she longed to see again.

Bai Ruowei wanted to throw herself into her arms, to pour out all the hardships of these days.

But then, she saw someone else.

A woman who looked exactly like her.

“Who is she?”

Did she even need to ask?

Miss Bai’s expression bordered on madness, even her pale green eyes, identical to Lan Chi’s flashing with a hint of crimson.

She didn’t need to know whether Song Shizhou retained memories of their past life. Whether she did or not, Bai Ruowei would drag her back to her side. They had been apart for too long. The loneliness had made her imagine countless scenarios of their reunion. She had so much to say, so much to do.

Yet none of them were like this.

The person she had longed for day and night now stood before her, gazing at someone else with the same tender eyes that had once been reserved only for her. That someone bore a striking resemblance to her, seven or eight parts alike.

And then, coldly, those eyes turned to her disheveled and wretched.

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