Chapter 87 - 81: Curse

Chapter 87: Chapter 81: Curse

Compared to herself, Nan Jiamu was definitely a good person! Nan Jiamu hadn’t done it on purpose. She had just been kidnapped by Sheng Yehan and was frantic, casually cursing out, "If I tell you to go kill someone, would you go do it?" She never expected that Sheng Yehan would actually run them over, nor did she expect there to be two people on the side of the road at that exact moment. Nan Jiamu wasn’t a murderer in the legal sense, nor a villain in the moral sense, nor even "bad" in any sense of the word. She knew all of this! But so what? To her, Nan Jiamu would always be guilty!

Because she was the one who had cried for three days and three nights in front of her mother’s memorial altar! She was the one sitting in a wheelchair, watching helplessly as Sheng Yehan smiled in the defendant’s seat! She was also the one who was choked by that fat man, utterly powerless to fight back! Others could forgive Nan Jiamu. The law could forgive Nan Jiamu. Morality could forgive Nan Jiamu. But she could not! Forgiving Nan Jiamu would equal betrayal! Betraying her mother, and betraying herself!

She had to remember—remember the way her mother looked lying in a pool of blood, remember Sheng Yehan’s indifferent face, remember the line Nan Jiamu shouted at the end of this book, "Her name is Yin Zhen." That was her name! It wasn’t Nan Jiamu’s badge of honor, it wasn’t Sheng Yehan’s list of crimes, and it wasn’t a plot device! It was the love and expectation her father and mother gave her when she was born! Sheng Yehan deserved to die, Nan Jiamu deserved to die, and the entity holding that pen, who wrote her mother out of existence, deserved to die most of all! She wouldn’t let a single one of them off!

Yin Zhen looked down at the carvings on her arm. The blood slowly coagulated and scabbed over, turning into dark red lines. As time passed, they lost their original shapes but left behind scars that would never fade.

"Nan Jiamu, I specially prepared this grand gift on the eve of the transmigration. I hope you, too, can experience the feeling of losing a loved one," she muttered.

This curse would last for seven days. Yin Zhen was very much looking forward to seeing how these seven days would be calculated once this world’s time froze at seven o’clock tonight.

"System, I want to use Plot Kill. I’m betting everything I have!"

In the conference room of the Guan City Information Center.

Five people sat on both sides of the long table: Trouble, Signal, Ye Se, Xian Yu, and a new face. Nan Jiamu sat at the head of the table. The coffee in front of her had grown cold. She looked pale and exhausted.

"...That’s the plan," Nan Jiamu’s voice was a little hoarse. "The situation is getting increasingly chaotic. This transmigration is our most critical match. If we win, we completely end Chi Hai, and Ancient Abyss will be saved. If we lose..."

Nan Jiamu paused, her gaze sweeping over the faces of everyone present.

The handsome Trouble was the first to speak. "Don’t worry, Captain. We will definitely win!"

Signal nodded. Back when she was still a receptionist at Guanshan Group, she had received a lot of help from Nan Jiamu and had always liked her very much.

Ye Se had an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was the oldest, yet he deeply respected Nan Jiamu, a captain who was nearly twenty years his junior.

Xian Yu, who was still a high school student, had slightly red eyes. She thought of the deceased Mao Xuewang. Although she harbored some resentment toward Nan Jiamu for taking the initiative to start the invasion game, she didn’t want to see anyone else die, including Nan Jiamu.

The newcomer, "I Want to Quit the Game," sat further away. She was a female college student from a sports academy with short hair and clear eyes. She had only just joined and had never seen Nan Jiamu at her most ruthless, but she had seen her at her most exhausted over the past few days.

"We won’t lose," I Want to Quit the Game offered a word of comfort.

Nan Jiamu looked at her but said nothing. She stood up, preparing to conclude the meeting. "Everyone, go back and get ready first. The time remaining until the fourth transmigration is... Argh!"

The folder in her hands fell to the floor as Nan Jiamu pressed a hand against her heart in agony. From the moment Guan Heting died, her heart would periodically ache with a sharp, twisting pain. She thought it was guilt and that suppressing it would make it pass. She could suppress it.

But now, this pain was suddenly different. For a split second, Nan Jiamu felt as though she had lost something incredibly important, but she didn’t know what it was. Her nose stung uncontrollably, and tears welled up without warning. Her new Talent kept her in a state of absolute clarity, but it offered no help in the current situation; it only forced her to clearly and intensely feel every single inch of the pain.

"Captain, what’s wrong?" Her team members gathered around her in concern.

Clutching her heart, Nan Jiamu slumped to the floor. Scenes of her memories flashed uncontrollably before her eyes. It wasn’t Guan Heting, but her grandmother, who had passed away many years ago.

Her grandmother was crouching in front of the stove, stuffing firewood into the hearth, the firelight reflecting on her wrinkled face. Her grandmother was sewing her school uniform under the lamp, stitching a tree over a torn hole—beautiful and sturdy. Her grandmother was waiting at the village entrance for her to finish school, waving from afar and calling out her nickname, "Mumu, Grandma is over here."

She would rush over and throw herself into her grandmother’s arms. Her grandmother smelled of the smoky stove, of old soap, and of that unique, reassuring scent of old age. She thought she had forgotten those smells long ago, yet everything suddenly became impossibly clear.

Nan Jiamu then recalled the darkest and most helpless moment of her life.

Her grandmother was lying in bed, so thin she was nothing but skin and bones. "Jiamu, Grandma is old and has to go first. Grandma is worried about you, but there’s nothing Grandma can do anymore. You have to study hard. In the future, even when you’re alone, you must be happy. Don’t let yourself suffer."

On that day, Nan Jiamu couldn’t bring herself to tell her grandmother that she had been expelled from school and couldn’t study anymore. Her parents each had their own new families and children, and they both despised her. She could only cling tightly to her grandmother’s withered hand and beg, completely breaking down.

"Grandma, please don’t go. I’m begging you. You’re the only one I have left. Please don’t go, I beg you to stay with me a little longer. I haven’t gotten into college yet, I haven’t taken you to the big city, and we haven’t even taken a photo together. Don’t leave me behind, Grandma. I’m begging you, Grandma. I’m begging you. I’m begging you..."

Begging was useless. Her grandmother passed away anyway, before Nan Jiamu had even reached adulthood. Overnight, she lost her support, her home, and the only person in this world who truly loved her.

Nan Jiamu curled up on the cold floor of the conference room. Her shoulders trembled violently as broken sobs spilled through her clenched teeth.

The feeling of losing her most beloved on that day at sixteen years old struck her again—impossibly clear, and a hundred times more violent.

It hurt. It just hurt so much...