Chapter 7: The True Cause of Her Death
As soon as the words left her mouth, Lian Meng regretted them. She forced a dry, awkward smile. “A slip of the tongue, just a slip. Professor Lu, do you really like my mother’s songs that much?”
Lu Ming seemed completely unaware of her odd behavior and countered calmly, “Don’t you like them?”
“I do.”
For some reason, she felt a strange sense of security beside him.
Perhaps it was because, ever since she had awakened, she’d been confronted with that fearsome pair of enemies. Though she longed to avenge herself and kill them on the spot, reason told her not to act rashly.
If she fought them head-on, she’d have no chance of survival. She knew nothing about this era, making it impossible to strike.
Besides, without witnessing those beasts meet their doom, how could she bear to die again?
She still had to protect this body for her daughter, to wait for her return.
Calm down.
Perhaps she was simply too exhausted, for Lian Meng drifted off to sleep in the car before Lu Ming could escort her to her dormitory.
As she slept, her jet-black hair spilled softly over her shoulders, framing her bright, delicate face. Lu Ming gazed at her with furrowed brows, his eyes reflecting a complex array of emotions.
Though no one knew where the original Lian Youyou had gone, one thing was clear: after Lian Youyou’s fall from the sixth floor, it was Lian Meng—who had slept for twenty-two years—who awakened.
Twenty-two years. Did she still remember him? That beautiful elder sister, pregnant at the time, who had visited his family, joking with his mother about betrothing their children, even naming the child in her womb “Youyou.”
“Youyou, deer calling, feeding on wild apples.”
Lian Meng slept until after seven in the evening. When she awoke, she found herself lying in Lu Ming’s spacious bed, her clothes changed. As for why he’d brought her home, Lu Ming explained: her clothes were stained with blood, and returning to the dormitory would have frightened her classmates.
The new clothes were a loose, oversized men’s white shirt, which Lu Ming said the housekeeper had helped her change into. The fabric carried a faint, deep woody scent—an alluring, masculine fragrance, profound and sensual.
It turned out to be better at Lu Ming’s home. Lian Meng’s mind was sharp; with his help, she quickly mastered using a computer and a smartphone.
The smartphone’s myriad functions amazed her, and she marveled at the speed of technological progress.
Watching her, curious as a child and excitedly exploring his phone, Lu Ming found himself with new questions.
How had she died twenty-two years ago?
To the public, Lian Meng’s husband, Fan Chi, claimed she died in childbirth. Back then, Lu Ming was only five, more interested in playing with mud than understanding such matters. He vividly remembered, though, seeing on TV Fan Chi cradling baby Lian Youyou, with Lian Meng lying in deep sleep beside them.
He’d always had unusual eyes, able to perceive things invisible to others.
But never had he seen anyone quite like Lian Youyou.
This was also why, after returning to the country, he’d concealed his identity as the owner of Vast Technology and come to Binhai University as a teacher. He wanted more opportunities to observe this extraordinary Lian Youyou.
Online, Lian Meng searched for Fan Chi, Qu Wu-yan, and finally, her own name.
The information was detailed. Fan Chi was now a renowned director with his own studio and many actors under his wing. Qu Wu-yan had become a prominent middle-aged actress; although her acting was often criticized by netizens, she’d still managed to win several minor awards.
As for herself, the official cause of death was hemorrhage during childbirth. But countless articles flooded the internet—netizens speculating endlessly, piecing together dubious evidence to guess the true reason for her death.
Some even suggested... that a chaotic personal life led to certain diseases...
What nonsense!
It had to be the work of those two scoundrels. The thought made her eyes darken with growing malice.