The Little Fox Spirit Doesn't Want to Carry a Cub - Chapter 19.2

Jiang Shen nodded and was the first to close his eyes.

He relaxed his posture completely.

Jiang Shen’s subconscious was very alert; the little fox must have seen this, which is why he kept reminding him.

If it had been a few months ago, Jiang Shen wouldn’t have accepted having his memories pried into so easily.

But the other party was his little fox.

He was willing to be completely open with him.

He had always been completely open with him.

Li Ruan also closed his eyes, silently reciting the incantation. He slowly raised his hand and pressed his fingertip against the space between Jiang Shen’s brows.

With Li Ruan’s magic at its peak, entering a mortal’s deep memory wasn’t actually very difficult. Being so cautious was to protect Jiang Shen’s safety. If the host were to be highly resistant or try to force him out, Li Ruan might accidentally injure him.

But Jiang Shen clearly had no resistance toward him. When Li Ruan opened his eyes again, he was already inside a room.

He had been brought back into the scene by Jiang Shen.

This should be a bedroom. Outside, the night was deep, and Jiang Shen sat alone at a desk, reading something. Candlelight flickered on the desk, casting moving shadows on his profile.

Li Ruan walked quietly to Jiang Shen’s side.

Jiang Shen was very handsome; Li Ruan had thought so since the day they met.

But the Jiang Shen in this memory was different from the one Li Ruan knew. He wore deep blue silk robes and a hair crown, looking meticulous from head to toe. Even without saying a word, he had an air of being unapproachable.

Li Ruan wasn’t sure if he would have dared to drag him back to the cave if he had encountered this Jiang Shen back then.

Li Ruan pondered this seriously, but before he could find an answer, there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Jiang Shen said.

The voice was also cold and low; Jiang Shen would never speak to him like that.

Li Ruan thought to himself.

Perhaps because it was a memory, the visitor’s face was a bit blurry, but that wasn’t important anyway. Li Ruan saw Jiang Shen speak with this person for a while. The person took a letter from his robe and handed it to him.

This was likely the item they were looking for.

The person quickly left the room. Jiang Shen opened the envelope, and Li Ruan hurriedly leaned in to look.

While looking, he cast a spell in his palm.

An identical letter slowly appeared in his hand.

Li Ruan stood beside Jiang Shen, focused on his magic, while the latter seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up. Li Ruan unexpectedly bumped into the other’s cold gaze and was stunned for a moment.

The Jiang Shen in the memory naturally couldn’t see anything, so he quickly lowered his head again and seriously read the letter.

Li Ruan, however, froze in place, not recovering for a long time.

After a moment, he raised a hand and pressed it against his chest.

Thump, thump, thump.

His heart was beating violently.

While Li Ruan was dazed, Jiang Shen had finished reading the letter and stood up to cast it into the candle flame. He quickly finished copying the letter with his magic, and not daring to look at the man in the room again, he turned and ran out.

After leaving that room, Li Ruan’s restless heartbeat still wouldn’t calm down.

He exhaled and touched his face; it was also a bit hot.

He had only taken one look.

How strange.

Li Ruan thought in confusion.

Li Ruan did not leave Jiang Shen’s memory immediately.

He cast another spell in the courtyard, and the surroundings suddenly shifted, turning into a boundless expanse of white.

This was the space deep within Jiang Shen’s memory.

Everyone’s memory space is essentially a long corridor—some long, some short—recording all of a person’s life memories.

Some memories wear away with time or even disappear.

But others remain fresh and will always exist.

Li Ruan had pried into his own deep memories using this method, but unfortunately, there was nothing there—only an empty corridor.

His memories had been completely shattered by the heavenly lightning.

But Jiang Shen was completely different.

A band of light extended from beneath Li Ruan’s feet, and both sides were filled with Jiang Shen’s past memories. This band of light stretched very, very far into the white mist, so far that the end couldn’t be seen.

Li Ruan only knew that a demon’s memory corridor was usually very long because they lived for ages and experienced far more than ordinary mortals.

Did an ordinary mortal’s memory space… also have so many things?

Li Ruan walked along the band of light, and as he looked, he realized something was wrong.

Although the face in the memories was Jiang Shen’s, his clothing, mannerisms, and environments were completely different from the Jiang Shen Li Ruan knew.

These were Jiang Shen’s… past life memories.

All living beings in this world drink a bowl of Meng Po’s soup when passing through the Reincarnation Well to wash away past memories. But for some reason, Jiang Shen’s memories hadn’t been washed away; they were simply sealed in his mind.

And it wasn’t just one lifetime.

Li Ruan glanced over them.

Begging, slavery, born with a disability… Jiang Shen was human in every life, but every past reincarnation had been very bitter. In several lives, he had died shortly after birth. Li Ruan saw many in a row, and not a single life had come to a good end.

Li Ruan murmured, “Just how much evil did you do in the past…”

Balance exists between good and evil in this world. Unless one is a person of great evil receiving punishment from heaven, they would never be born into such diseased and poverty-stricken lives time after time.

“But… you should be fine in this life,” Li Ruan said.

Jiang Shen’s current life was one of wealth and status—he was a True Dragon Emperor descended to earth, naturally destined to meet benefactors. Li Ruan had seen this since the day he met him.

However, such fate is a secret of heaven and cannot be easily revealed, or it would cause great trouble.

Therefore, he had never mentioned it to Jiang Shen.

Li Ruan stopped looking at those past lives and walked forward quickly, soon finding what he was looking for.

In that memory, a heavily injured Jiang Shen lay on the snow. He opened his eyes and saw the little fox squatting on his chest.

It was the scene of their first meeting.

Li Ruan softly recited an incantation, and the little fox in the memory turned into a faint red light, drifting lightly into his palm.

The halo converged into a crystal-clear glass orb in his palm, flickering with the shadow of a little fox inside.

Li Ruan looked at it intently for a while before carefully putting it away.

That was the entirety of Jiang Shen’s memory regarding him.

Li Ruan opened his eyes.

The magical light surrounding them dissipated. He looked up at the person in front of him; Jiang Shen still had his eyes closed tightly, as if he hadn’t woken up yet.

Li Ruan tilted his head.

Logically, once the spell was withdrawn, he should have woken up.

“Jiang Shen,” Li Ruan called out.

No response.

Li Ruan’s brows furrowed, and he tugged at his sleeve. “Jiang Shen, Jiang Shen, wake up.”

He hadn’t performed this spell in a long time and wasn’t very confident. Seeing that Jiang Shen wouldn’t wake up made him even more anxious. “Jiang Shen, what’s wrong? Wake up quickly…”

Jiang Shen’s lips suddenly twitched, though his eyes remained closed.

“Stupid fox,” he said in a low voice filled with laughter. “In the storybooks, this is when you should kiss me. You have to kiss me awake.”

Li Ruan: “…”

Li Ruan: “You scared me!”

Angry and annoyed, he stood up to leave, but Jiang Shen quickly pulled him back. “I was wrong. I was just teasing you, don’t be angry.”

Li Ruan had truly been a bit frightened this time. He gave a low huff and looked away, refusing to look at him.

“I’m truly sorry.” Jiang Shen hadn’t expected the little fox to be so anxious. He pulled him into his arms to soothe him. “I’ll make it up to you, alright? Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want anything,” Li Ruan said muffledly. “It’s fine as long as you’re okay.”

The silly little fox—he wouldn’t scold anyone even when annoyed, and he didn’t even know how to vent his anger.

Jiang Shen’s heart softened at his behavior. He turned his head and kissed him. “I won’t scare you again.”

Li Ruan felt he was quite spineless, his anger vanishing as soon as he was coaxed. He took an item from his robe and stuffed it into Jiang Shen’s hand. “The thing you wanted.”

Jiang Shen took it and scanned it briefly; it was indeed identical to the secret letter he had received back then.

Li Ruan asked, “With this, will you be able to find the culprit who wants to harm you?”

“I should be able to.” Jiang Shen unfolded the paper and pointed to a red seal on it. “This is the Emperor’s private seal. Not many people in this world have seen it, and even fewer can forge it. And this handwriting, this paper—no matter how seamlessly they forged it, if I investigate carefully, I will find the answer.”

Li Ruan nodded.

He didn’t quite understand the specifics, but if Jiang Shen said it could be investigated, it could.

Jiang Shen added, “However…”

Li Ruan: “What?”

“Investigating these things won’t be easy. After I return to the capital, I might be busy for a while.” He looked at Li Ruan and sighed. “It will probably be a long time before I see you again.”

Li Ruan pursed his lips and didn’t answer.

He was silent for a moment, then asked softly, “Then… when do you plan to leave?”

Jiang Shen said, “The convoy pretending to be me on my Southern Tour should arrive at the foot of Changming Mountain in the afternoon three days from now. I plan to rejoin them then and enter the capital together.”

Li Ruan blinked.

So he wasn’t leaving immediately.

Li Ruan suddenly felt his mood improve significantly.

He did the math in his head—it was still morning, which meant they still had a little over three days to be together.

That was still quite long.

Li Ruan secretly touched the glass bead hidden in his sleeve.

Then I’ll keep you for three more days.

Li Ruan thought happily to himself.