Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Two: Indirect Probing

Song Wanning's face flushed red with embarrassment. Wen Jingxing finally released her, patted her head gently through the quilt, and said, "Sleep a little longer. I'll go out to help first."

After that, he tiptoed out from under the covers, changed his clothes, and left the room.

Hiding beneath the blanket, Song Wanning's original intention was to get up with him. However, hearing the rustling sound of clothing friction, she guessed Wen Jingxing was changing, so she decided to wait a moment before coming out.

Yet, as she waited, Song Wanning drifted back to sleep.

When Wen Jingxing returned from washing up, he tentatively called out, "A-Ning," but received no response. Pulling back the blanket, he found Song Wanning sleeping soundly.

He wondered how she could breathe so comfortably while wrapped up so tightly.

Tugging the quilt down just a fraction, he could not resist pressing a gentle kiss to Song Wanning's forehead before leaving the room.

Stepping outside, he saw the old monk cooking in the courtyard, while little Mi had once again wandered off to play somewhere.

Seeing Wen Jingxing emerge, the old monk beckoned to him. "Little Mi said the two of you fell into the water last night?"

"Yes. A-Ning was worried about me and came looking for me, but unfortunately, an accident happened."

"As long as you're both safe, that's what matters. Come to think of it, you two share quite a destiny. Years ago, when you visited me as a child, you fell into the hot spring, and it was little Wanning who pulled you out. Now, the two of you have fallen into a pond together. Tsk, tsk, tsk..."

Once the old monk made sure neither of them was hurt, he went back to his cooking.

When Song Wanning finally opened her eyes again, the sun was already high in the sky. She bolted upright in bed and looked outside—the sun was blazing brightly!

Song Wanning instantly covered her face.

She had promised her viewers that she would stream this morning to teach them the Vajra Medicine again, and now look at the time—who knew how late it was?

Checking her phone, it was 10:30. Song Wanning completely gave up on saving the day and flopped back down onto the bed.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door, followed by little Mi's voice from outside, "Sister Wanning, hurry up and get up for breakfast!"

"Coming, wait for me a moment."

Song Wanning replied, quickly changed her clothes, and hurried out.

By the time she sat down at the bamboo dining table, the old monk was nearby reading a book filled with characters Song Wanning could not recognize at all.

Meanwhile, Wen Jingxing was holding little Mi's hand, saying he was going to take the boy to chop some firewood, promising to return quickly and telling Song Wanning to be a good girl and wait for him right here.

The old monk could no longer stand it. "Go chop your firewood already! With her staying right here with me, is she going to vanish into thin air?"

Song Wanning chuckled along and urged Wen Jingxing to go and return soon.

After they left, she finally began to eat.

At that moment, the old monk suddenly remarked, "Jingxing cares about you so much. Child, what are you still frowning for? You should be secretly thrilled."

Song Wanning's hand holding her noodles paused, but she offered no reply.

The old monk added, "Reading your physiognomy, you don't seem like the type to hold back. Since your hearts have met, you should pursue it boldly."

"I think you must have misread it."

Song Wanning hurriedly scrambled for an excuse.

"Impossible. Do you have some kind of hesitation?" The old monk's tone was entirely certain.

"Master Sha, tell me, what if the person you love doesn't actually love you for who you are, and you're merely a substitute for someone else?"

The old monk countered, "If you don't ask him, how can you be sure?"

"What if the reality is just that?"

"Then what you see may not necessarily be the truth."

"Then what is the real truth?"

Song Wanning pressed further.

"When the time comes, you will naturally know."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Actually... I can only foresee a general outline; I cannot know the details."

The old monk stroked his bald head, looking slightly embarrassed.

Song Wanning: "..."

No wonder the old monk always spoke in riddles whenever she asked questions—he simply didn't know the details at all.

"Fine."

Feeling rather helpless, Song Wanning lowered her head and resumed eating.

Seeing her reaction, the old monk added one more sentence, "Have you ever thought that perhaps the person Jingxing has loved from beginning to end is simply you?"

Song Wanning felt a pang of doubt. She was a time-traveler who had arrived later, not someone who had lived in the original owner's body since childhood; how could Wen Jingxing have loved her from the very beginning?

Yet she could hardly tell the old monk that she was a transmigrator from a book. Instead, she silently turned her sorrow and frustration into appetite, devouring two entire bowls of rice right there in the morning, which left the old monk utterly astounded.

Wen Jingxing did indeed return quickly, carrying a bundle of dry firewood on his back. Song Wanning was waiting for him in the recliner by the door.

Seeing him dressed in a sharp business suit yet hauling a pile of firewood, she could not help laughing.

She wondered how on earth the old monk had managed to get Wen Jingxing to do such chores. It was truly... formidable.

In the afternoon, Song Wanning started a livestream in the study pavilion, explaining various books she had discovered to her online viewers.

The old monk's study pavilion housed many fascinating and unusual texts, and since he did not mind Song Wanning filming inside, he had readily given his permission.

This was the first time Song Wanning had ever seen books on physiognomy, geomancy, and divination. In her past life, as an exalted sovereign, she naturally could not dabble in such superstitious subjects, let alone actively propagate them.

Consequently, she found them immensely absorbing.

Such esoteric arts were profound indeed. Song Wanning even came across a technique in the texts called "soul-calling"—a ritual performed at an outdoor altar when a loved one's soul had been strayed, in order to summon it back. Of course, such sorcery carried extreme risks.

Because the procedure was exceptionally rigorous, any mistake in a single step would summon a stray spirit from another realm instead.

At best, one would simply fail to summon the desired family member; at worst, it would attract malevolent ghosts and court misfortune.

Noticing her deep absorption in the subject, the old monk asked, "Are you quite interested? Have you ever encountered such a situation?"

Song Wanning could not answer. "I don't know. It feels very... familiar."

"Ah, I see. Well, child, stop reading that for now and come grind the ink for me."

The old monk was writing something down, though Song Wanning could not make head or tail of it.

In her eyes, the old monk was merely drawing ghost symbols and scribbling at random.

Wen Jingxing stood nearby, helping the old monk organize the books that had been disarranged.

The afternoon passed quietly in this tranquil manner.

After dinner, the group prepared to bathe once again.

Remembering what Wen Jingxing had told her the previous night, Song Wanning suggested to him, "Jingxing, why don't you skip it tonight? You can just draw some water and wash up in the room."

Wen Jingxing shook his head in refusal. "This is just a minor issue. One must learn to overcome it eventually."

"But..."

"Be a good girl, I'm heading over."

"Alright." Seeing his persistence, Song Wanning relented.

Little Mi stayed by her side, keeping her company as she read a vernacular storybook.

Suddenly, the boy tugged at Song Wanning's sleeve and said, "Sister Wanning, try not to stay by yourself lately, okay? You should stick close to Brother Jingxing."

"Why? Haven't I been staying with him all this time?"