Forced to Become the Female Lead's Beloved Wife [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 9

The day before the college entrance exam, the school released students early to ensure they had ample time to rest. Wen Yige held Li Wancheng’s hand, swaying it gently as they strolled. Sunlight filtered through the ginkgo leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Wen Yige suddenly turned to her and asked, “Acheng, should we go to the temple to pray for good luck?”

In ancient times, scholars would pray for success before the imperial examinations, a tradition that persists today. Many students facing the college entrance exam still visit temples to pray for good fortune.

Li Wancheng seemed lost in thought, her head bowed as if she hadn’t heard. “Acheng?” Wen Yige called again.

Only at the second call did Li Wancheng snap out of her reverie, murmuring a soft, “Okay.”

A direct bus route connected the city to the temple, so the two boarded. It was rush hour, and the bus was crowded. Wen Yige, worried about Li Wancheng being jostled, carefully shielded her with her body from the moment they boarded.

The temple was unusually crowded today, mostly with students and parents praying for good luck, just like them. A few couples, arms linked, were also squeezed into the crowd.

Stone steps spiraled upward, the vermilion temple walls showing signs of age, with patches of paint peeling. A towering bodhi tree stood before the main hall, its branches and leaves swaying in the breeze, causing the red prayer ribbons tied to its branches to flutter.

The stone steps leading from the temple gate to the hall were long. By the time Wen Yige reached the top, she was already feeling fatigued, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. Li Wancheng noticed her pale lips and pulled her aside to rest in the shade for a while.

As soon as they entered the hall, the scent of incense filled the air. Wen Yige held her incense sticks, bowed three times, and carefully inserted them into the incense burner. The towering, solemn Buddha statues surrounding her radiated compassion. Kneeling before the Buddha, she closed her eyes, pressed her palms together, and whispered her wishes with utmost sincerity.

“May my mother enjoy good health and live a long life. May I be accepted into my dream university and fulfill my aspirations.”

She paused briefly, then, after a few seconds, finally uttered the words that had been swirling on her tongue and in her heart.

“May I be with the one I love for all eternity.”

She had silently repeated this final wish countless times in her mind, carefully weighing each word, afraid that speaking it too quickly would diminish the depth of her love.

Li Wancheng’s group was moving at a slower pace. Standing just a few steps away from the girl, she watched Wen Yige kneel on the prayer cushion, her face radiating devout sincerity. For a moment, she couldn’t quite grasp what she was feeling.

As a Task-taker, she knew all too well what was about to happen. And it was precisely because she knew that she felt a pang of reluctance.

As if sensing her thoughts, the System interjected, “The plot cannot be altered. She is destined to experience these events in her lifetime.”

Destined…? Li Wancheng tilted her head slightly, searching for that graceful figure, her gaze shifting with complex emotions.

By the time Li Wancheng finished offering incense, Wen Yige had been waiting outside the hall for quite some time. The delicate red string of fate in her palm had grown warm from being clutched so tightly. When she saw Li Wancheng emerge, a smile bloomed across her face.

Wen Yige waved the red string, her smile widening. “Acheng, give me your hand.”

This person… I wonder when she bought this. Li Wancheng pressed her lips together, neither agreeing nor refusing, but still indulgently extended her hand.

The red string, woven from three strands, symbolized a bond destined across three lifetimes. Instead of tying it to the Bodhi tree, Wen Yige carefully knotted one end around Li Wancheng’s right pinky finger, then looped the other end around her own pinky.

She threaded her fingers through Li Wancheng’s, interlacing their hands. Their pinkies were now connected by the red string. A gentle breeze brushed their cheeks, carrying Wen Yige’s soft, tender voice:

“I heard from the elders that two people bound by this red string will never be separated, not in this life or any to come.”

Her gaze was too pure, too fervent, radiating an undisguised, scorching affection. Li Wancheng’s heart trembled at the intensity, and she raised her hand to cover Wen Yige’s eyes, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Darkness suddenly enveloped Wen Yige’s vision. She blinked, remaining obediently still, and asked with genuine confusion, “What’s wrong?”

The tickling sensation of trembling eyelashes against Li Wancheng’s palm made her gaze drift to the girl’s slightly parted, cherry-pink lips. An inexplicable sense of sensuality washed over her.

The action had been entirely instinctive. By the time Li Wancheng realized what she’d done, her hand was already covering Wen Yige’s eyes. Now, at a loss for a proper explanation, she blurted out a lie.

“There were two cicadas mating just now.”

Fortunately, Wen Yige didn’t call her bluff. She simply chuckled softly and played along, asking, “Are they done mating now?”

Li Wancheng’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smile spreading across her lips as she replied slowly, “Not yet.”

The melodious chime of temple bells echoed through the air as they stood beneath the Bodhi tree, feeling the gentle midday breeze caress every inch of their skin. In that moment, time seemed to stand still, a perfect serenity enveloping them.

Li Wancheng found herself greedily wishing this moment could linger longer, much longer.

But time never stops flowing, and even the most beautiful things are fleeting.

On the way back, Wen Yige seemed particularly cheerful, perhaps because everything had been going so well lately, which had made her personality even more radiant. She squeezed the palm of the girl beside her, her voice brimming with anticipation and longing.

“Ah Cheng, after the exams, let’s go to the beach together, okay?”

Li Wancheng’s fingertips tightened abruptly, but after a moment, she replied, “Okay.”

“We can buy a small house with a garden someday, fill it with sunflowers, and get a cat. In our free time, we can sit in the backyard and bask in the sun.”

Her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling as she spoke. Li Wancheng suddenly couldn’t bear to interrupt her, so she swallowed the lump in her throat and gently agreed, agreeing to a promise that might never come true.

Last month, Wen Yige had taken the initiative to contact Wen Feng and agreed to his terms. True to his word, Wen Feng paid for the surgery and hired the best surgeon in the country to perform it.

The surgery was a success, and everything was progressing smoothly.

Lost in her beautiful visions of the future, Wen Yige didn’t notice the forced smile on the girl beside her. Unseen by her, Li Wancheng’s nails had already dug deep into her palm, the intense pain barely suppressed, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Today, contrary to her usual behavior, Li Wancheng remained close by Wen Yige’s side even after they crossed the intersection. Wen Yige turned her head and playfully tugged at Li Wancheng’s collar. “What’s wrong? Are you going to miss me?”

She meant it as a joke, but Li Wancheng replied seriously, “Yes, I’ll miss you.”

Perhaps the atmosphere was too intimate. Wen Yige’s arms slowly rose to encircle Li Wancheng’s neck, her eyes sparkling like countless stars as they met Li Wancheng’s gaze. The moment their lips touched, Li Wancheng’s hand, which had been resting on Wen Yige’s waist, tightened, pulling her even closer against her chest.

So soft, so sweet, like a candy melting in her mouth.

But candy always melts.

The System watched Li Wancheng standing under the streetlamp for a long time, until the lights came on in the room upstairs. Only then did she finally look away. The Host’s recent behavior had left the System uncertain, unable to discern whether her acting was simply too convincing, or…

As she pondered, Li Wancheng turned around. The System hesitated before asking, “Host, have you… fallen for her?”

The System’s concern was understandable. Among the many Task-takers it had observed, quite a few had developed feelings for their mission targets. After all, humans were not machines; they were flesh and blood, and none could escape the pull of emotion.

The moonlight fell softly, stretching people’s shadows long and making them appear particularly desolate on the empty streets.

Li Wancheng gently shook her head. It wasn’t exactly affection she felt, but rather a deep sense of pity and melancholy.

Perhaps there was also a hint of regret—regret that in this world, the rope always breaks at its thinnest point, and misfortune always finds those who have already suffered enough.

Her smile froze mid-air, her heart skipped a beat, and an inexplicable sense of dread washed over her.

Though the air around her buzzed with the cheerful chatter of students celebrating the end of exams, she was suddenly enveloped by a suffocating fear. Even the sunlight that had been warming her shoulders now seemed to carry a chilling edge.

She held her breath, her knuckles whitening from the force of her grip. It’s going to be okay, she repeated to herself, it’s going to be okay. Mom ate the apple I peeled for her last time. She’ll be fine.

But the next moment, cold, clinical words shattered her last shred of hope. The text on her screen blurred as she bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing herself not to cry out loud. Yet tears streamed down her face like broken beads, a sudden torrent she couldn’t contain.

Yige, your mother is in the emergency room. The hospital has issued a critical condition notice. Come immediately.

By the time Wen Yige arrived at the hospital, nearly an hour had passed. The emergency room doors remained tightly shut, the red light above them hanging like a sword poised to fall at any moment.

Though the surgery had been successful, postoperative complications had struck with relentless force. First came an infection, followed by heart failure, and today, a sudden hemorrhage had sent her mother back to the emergency room.

The waiting was always the most agonizing part, filled with uncertainty. You never knew whether the person wheeled out of the operating room would be alive or a cold corpse.

The towering corridor stretched before her, blindingly white. The antiseptic smell made her dizzy, and her stomach churned violently.

She vomited until she was lightheaded, her legs weakening until she slid down, barely managing to stay upright by clinging to the bathroom sink.

Wen Yige’s mind was blank, fixated on that one person. Her trembling hands repeatedly fumbled the buttons, failing to dial the number that had once connected instantly. Now, only a busy signal answered her calls.

Like the final straw that broke the camel’s back, the despair and resentment she had suppressed for so long erupted. She stubbornly redialed again and again until the automated message announced the phone was switched off. Only then did she finally accept the reality, collapsing limply to the floor, too drained even to cry.

As midnight approached, the surgery had already lasted four hours. Wen Yige’s bloodshot eyes gave her a frightening appearance.

At one in the morning, the emergency room lights finally went out. A flicker of hope stirred in the girl’s numb pupils, but she dared not relax, her heartstring stretched to its breaking point.

The door creaked open slowly. Wen Yige licked her parched lips, a fragile hope flickering in her eyes.

As if awaiting a final verdict, the lead surgeon, exhausted from the prolonged operation, spoke:

“We did everything we could. Please accept our condolences.”

Before she knew it, Wen Yige had arrived at Li Wancheng’s house. Though it was a place so familiar, it now felt utterly foreign, silent and devoid of any sound. A thin layer of dust had settled on the doorknob. The place that had once held countless precious memories for them was now nothing more than an empty shell.

In just a few short days, everything had changed. Two of the three wishes she had made before the Buddha had already been shattered.

Was she too greedy, so even the Buddha refused to protect her?

The sweet memories of the past now felt like knives slowly tearing her apart. Every thought left a trail of blood. Overwhelmed by grief, Wen Yige collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The relentless string of tragedies had drained her of all strength.

Liars, all liars…

They promised they’d watch the sea together. They said they’d see her get married and have children. How could they all just disappear?

She couldn’t bear to stay in this place any longer. Grasping the wall for support, she tried to stand up, but halfway to her feet, a sharp pain gripped her heart. Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed in a vise, making it impossible to breathe. The world began to fade into darkness.