Beyond those, there were also unfamiliar faces constantly flashing through his mind—men and women, old and young. Though
Earth Demon,
These people occupied
The days passed uneventfully.
By the time he reached seventy, he had children and grandchildren filling the house. His parents had long since passed away. Much in his life had changed, but the one thing that hadn't was the parade of faces that continued to flash ceaselessly through his mind, day after day, year after year.
Those faces grew ever clearer, and faint sounds finally began to filter through to his awareness.
A sudden, severe illness struck him down, extinguishing what remained of his vitality.
Lying on his deathbed, the sound of soft weeping drifted in from beyond the room—the voices of his children and grandchildren.
The wife who had accompanied him through his entire life had long since lost the blossoming beauty of her youth. She was nothing more than an ordinary old woman now. Yet in these final moments, she remained steadfast at his bedside, tending to his every need.
A life like this… perhaps it wasn't so bad?
But to his surprise, the wife who had always been so devoted and accommodating now wore an expression of cold indifference, gazing at him with icy, menacing eyes.
"You…"
From her came a voice—clear, melodious, nothing at all like an old woman's. It sounded instead like that of a young woman: "Finally, I'm free. You dragged me down through this whole miserable life. Only now, at this moment, can I finally breathe!"
"Why… why would you say that?"
"What should I say, then?" The woman sneered. "Should I thank you? If it weren't for the Yang family's power, how could I have been married off into this household decades ago? You,
"Is that what you truly feel?"
"Yes!" The woman's smile turned even more sinister—a cruel expression, like a dagger poised to pierce
The old woman sitting at his bedside laughed, her expression growing colder still.
But then
"What?" The old woman's face changed drastically. She shot to her feet, staring at
"Wasn't this the moment where you were supposed to drop the charade? Tear into me, shatter whatever satisfaction I found in this life, and drag me into despair?"
"How could you possibly—" The old woman's face had turned ashen.
"Why wouldn't I have realized it? I figured it out over thirty years ago. None of this is real. I remember everything I was supposed to remember!"
"If you knew all along, then why did you play along?" The old woman's expression had turned savage.
"Because…"
Those familiar yet foreign faces that had been constantly flickering through
He had no idea when he had fallen into the trap, nor had he sensed the presence of any enemy. He remembered that he had been standing guard with
The situation was far too bizarre.
It meant that the unknown enemy possessed soul power so overwhelmingly powerful that it was almost beyond imagination—power sufficient to infiltrate his consciousness without detection, alter his memories, influence his thoughts, make him forget everything he should have remembered, and replace it all with this fabricated life.
That was why he hadn't rushed to take action.
First, he didn't know who the enemy was, and acting rashly could be counterproductive. Second—and as he had genuinely felt—this fabricated life was one he had never experienced, and it had been rather pleasant. Of course… it would have been ideal if his "wife" had maintained her composure to the very end and seen him off peacefully.
But at the last moment, she had tried to destroy his rare and precious experience, forcing him into despair instead.