Chapter 120: The Cemetery, Once You (5k)

Chapter 120: Chapter 77: The Cemetery, Once You (5k)

Actually, upon seeing this, Wen Yan was almost certain he had found the person he was looking for.The timeline also seemed to match.

Her last message on Flying Messaging was indeed a voice message because, by then, she no longer had the energy to type.

She only had three Flying Messaging friends, including those already deleted.

One, according to records, had immigrated abroad six years ago, and it was now impossible to track them.

Another was also from abroad, and their records couldn’t be tracked domestically either.

These two had not returned to Divine Land.

The third was indeed someone from within Divine Land, but according to the records, this person had died three years ago.

Feng Yao pulled up the records. Reading the fragmented entries, he could sense what she had gone through.Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on NovᴇlFirenᴇt

She had worked hard abroad, often taking unofficial jobs that paid less than others. Despite this, she was frugal and saved everything she could, hoping to earn enough money to return.

She was diligent and resilient. Every year, on the death anniversary of the kind-hearted person who had once adopted him , she too would pay her respects from afar, facing Divine Land.

Later, she fell in love. She met a man, a very ordinary person, who was even incapable of holding down a job and constantly spent his savings.

But that man never took her money, so she firmly believed she had met a good person, even if this good man wasn’t very capable.

They cooked together and rented an apartment together to save money, living as if they were just scraping by.

There were quarrels and tender moments; the records were full of everyday trifles.

But then, suddenly one day, the entries stopped.

Some time passed, and another friend was added to her Flying Messaging. From her tone in the messages, Wen Yan knew it was the same man.

That person had to be Fake Mo Zhicheng.

Fake Mo Zhicheng had once lived an ordinary life abroad, never using his ability.

During those days, this woman was by his side.

Three years ago, she returned to the country, and Fake Mo Zhicheng also returned around that time.

The third Flying Messaging friend was, unsurprisingly, still the same man.

Intermittent quarrels, anxiety—it all eventually fizzled out, with no further entries.

Until the day she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer and sent her last message.

Unfortunately, two months prior to this, her Flying Messaging friend had stopped logging into that account.

Wen Yan looked at the records. He could tell she had been very restrained and cautious; there wasn’t a single name in any of the entries.

One could even tell that unless she absolutely couldn’t hold back, she spoke deliberately, as if trying to create the impression that the three Flying Messaging friends were not the same person.

In the last few months, when her emotions must have been at their most turbulent, many of her words clearly showed she could no longer hold back.

"The unread messages you’re looking for should be this string. Do you want to listen to them?" Feng Yao asked.

Wen Yan fell silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, those weren’t meant for us to hear. The first person to hear them should be the one who was supposed to hear them."

Feng Yao also fell silent for a moment.

"I’ve carefully investigated these three individuals. Although there’s no conclusive evidence, the timeline does seem to match up. The owner of the last account, in particular, died too normally, and their final movements were also too normal. I don’t believe that anyone, even someone with a heart of stone, could have such normal final movements if they knew what her last days were like. Their paths show no intersection at all. This style, along with the nature of the death, bears Fake Mo Zhicheng’s hallmark. We’ve previously unearthed several cases with similar styles, and now one of them can be matched. I’d stake my head on it, this is definitely Fake Mo Zhicheng, absolutely him! I also know why you’re looking for this, and frankly, I’m not optimistic. That guy is so depraved and ruthless; he hasn’t just recently become this way. Honestly, I don’t think this will have much effect."

Wen Yan shook his head, unable to explain.

He still believed that the Temporary Ability triggered by his Natural Enemy Profession was more than just a hint; it had to be of great significance.

"Trust me this once," Wen Yan said. "No one should listen to it; let this message remain unread."

With their current impression of Fake Mo Zhicheng, who would have thought there was a time he had lived a difficult life and refrained from using his ability? If he had used his ability even once, given how extraordinary it was, he definitely wouldn’t have struggled for so long—struggled enough to leave records of his negative emotions. What he was thinking at that time, no one knows. Yet, these past events didn’t align with the current Fake Mo Zhicheng—depraved, cold-blooded, and somewhat crazed. It was difficult to understand how Fake Mo Zhicheng had become the person he was today. Precisely because of this, Wen Yan was even more convinced that the ’last whisper’ was significant enough to manifest as a Temporary Ability.

He looked at the tombstone and sighed deeply. He had suspected the person might be dead before he came, so the Incense Sticks and Paper Money he’d brought had indeed found their use.

He burned Paper Money, lit Incense Sticks, and paid his respects.

In the end, wanting to say something but not knowing what, he simply bowed and then left with Feng Yao and Old Zhao.

Sitting in the car on the way back, Old Zhao rubbed his head and began to speak.

"I vaguely remember now. I think I’ve seen that woman before."

"Oh? When?" Wen Yan asked.

"It was a year or more ago, or maybe two years; I can’t remember the exact time. I just recall her walking out of the basement, already on the verge of dissipating. I saw she had a large belly and looked quite pitiful, so I wanted her to stay a bit longer. But her obsession was too deep; she didn’t stop at all and just walked away."

"Do you remember which direction she went?"

"She was already dissipating. I watched her walk out of my house. Not far from it, she gradually faded away..."