The improved female villains regained their memories.

Old Qian was still sitting in the same spot, puffing on his pipe. When he saw Su Murong rush in, he put down his pipe and asked, "Have you decided?"

"You've already asked this question once. It's decided, it's decided, hurry up!"

"Row."

He bent down, took out a piece of paper, and threw it to Su Murong: "Go back and memorize these medicines, their effects, and the procedures."

Su Murong's eyes widened: "I have to carry things too?"

"Scared?"

"What are you afraid of!"

"So you can't read?"

"Of course I'll admit it! You wait, I'll recite it for you tonight!"

She picked up the paper, turned and ran outside, where she ran into Yang Pingsheng.

He was sweeping snow with his head down, looking distracted, when Su Murong jumped up from behind and patted him, saying, "Hey, what are you thinking about!?"

"Huh?" Yang Pingsheng turned around in a daze, and when he saw it was Su Murong, he forced a smile: "You got the pill formula?"

"No, I took a piece of paper with some random stuff written on it, like the medicinal properties and the process of processing the herbs. The old man told me to memorize it first."

"Um, how's your mother?"

"It was great! I went on a walk with her today and even got a good thrashing of that old hag. I had a blast!" Su Murong said with a grin. "The Qi and Blood Pill really works, so I'll be the one refining it from now on!"

“This, like this…”

"what happened to you?"

"It's nothing. You should go back now, don't keep your mother waiting."

"Okay! Once I've mastered my skills, I'll share a few with you. Bye!"

Yang Pingsheng watched Su Murong wave goodbye and walk away, letting out a heavy sigh.

He stared intently at his palm and asked, "System."

"Ok?"

"Is this... the destiny you spoke of?"

"Pretty much. Everyone is born with a predetermined fate. Immortals have their tribulations, and mortals have their destiny. These are all determined by the laws of nature and cannot be changed."

"Really."

Yang Pingsheng looked up, reached out his hand, and caught the snowflakes.

Cold, aloof, and inhumane.

So this is... the way of Heaven?

------------------

As the sun sets, the afterglow is like blood.

Su Murong ran home excitedly.

"Mom, I've got something good! I'm telling you, from now on..."

The room was completely silent.

Su Murong's smile vanished. She slowed her pace and gently, very gently, pushed open the wooden door.

crunch--

"mother?"

The crimson afterglow shone in, and the figure on the roof beam swayed precariously, connected by hemp ropes that creaked and groaned.

Su Murong's hand fell down and relaxed.

The paper slipped from my hand, drifting and floating, then drifted to the ground with the snow and disappeared.

That winter, a baby girl was born.

That winter, a mother committed suicide.

The snow that winter fell slowly, bringing life and death.

Su Murong's mother died.

Along with it, her dignity died.

From that day on, no one ever told her which Rong was in Su Murong's name again.

Because she became an orphan.

An orphan without a mother.

Chapter 141 The Snow Stops

The snow is falling, covering the grave.

In Liuyun City, some people starved to death, some died of disease, and some, like Su Rouxue, committed suicide. After they died, their bodies were piled up and covered with snow, becoming their cemetery.

But Su Murong wouldn't have it. She stubbornly went to the earthen slope outside the city to dig, and the frozen ground carved out a pit for her.

Su Rouxue's body was buried inside, and the so-called grave was just a wooden plaque with "Mother Su Rouxue" engraved on it.

She stood there quietly, with Yang Pingsheng beside her, holding her cold little hand.

"My life..."

"Ok?"

"Is Mother cold over there?"

"..."

Yang Pingsheng had no answer.

He had seen scenes of death and the grief of the living over the passing of loved ones, but he had never seen Su Murong's situation before.

There were no tears, no overwhelming grief, nothing at all. She was quiet; all her liveliness vanished in an instant, leaving only silence.

She broke free from his grasp, swaying slightly, and turned to leave.

"Mu Rong!"

Like a walking corpse, her body lurched forward, about to fall into the snow, when Yang Pingsheng rushed forward to support her.

Her body was as cold as snow. Yang Pingsheng shuddered and instinctively hugged Su Murong tightly.

Her eyes were empty, devoid of any light, staring into the distance.

"I don't have a father."

My father left as soon as I was born.

“I grew up with my mother. From a young age, only my mother took care of me.”

“I’ve always been with her; she’s my only family in this city.”

"But now, she's gone, and I'm all alone."

"I'm all alone in that room now."

Yang Pingsheng carried Su Murong as they walked.

Along the way, Su Murong's eyes were vacant as she rambled on and on about her birth, her mother's life, and the years of hardship she and her mother endured to survive.

When she mentioned that Su Rouxue had taught her calligraphy, but she had been lazy and didn't want to learn, she suddenly let out a strange laugh.

"Ha ha……"

The snow had lessened, and Su Murong buried her face in Yang Pingsheng's arms, falling silent again.

That evening, they returned to the thatched hut. Yang Pingsheng was worried about Su Murong, so he asked Old Man Qian for leave to look after her.

In the familiar dimly lit room, Su Murong lay on his side on the bed, his face against the wall, neither speaking nor eating.

Yang Pingsheng brought in hot water, looked at her, and sighed helplessly. He put down the water, looked at the untouched food on the table, went over, and nudged her.

"Xiao Rong?"

There was no movement.

The candlelight shone for a while before being extinguished. Yang Pingsheng spread a straw mat on the ground, lay down, and looked at the dark ceiling.

"Xiao Rong, if you feel bad, just cry it out."

There was still no movement.

Su Murong lay motionless in the spot where her mother had been, as if she were dead.

Yang Pingsheng got up and looked over there. She was still facing the wall, pretending to be a corpse.

"Hey……"

Unable to sleep, Yang Pingsheng put on his clothes, pushed open the wooden door, and walked out of the courtyard.

The bright moonlight shone on the snow. He found a place to sit down and stared blankly into space.

The system had been describing to him how shameless and unscrupulous the female villains in this world were, telling him not to underestimate her. But now, Su Rouxue was dead, and the ten-year-old girl was all alone. No matter how much Yang Pingsheng valued her, in his eyes, she was just a child.

A child without a mother.

"I'm telling you, your current thinking is dangerous."

The system's voice sounded.

"Your pointless empathy is at it again. I can feel it. You feel pity and sympathy for the female villain now because her mother died, so you're starting to pity her, right?"

Yang Pingsheng retorted, "I didn't."

"No?"

The ball of light appeared and landed in Yang Pingsheng's palm. Seemingly dissatisfied with Yang Pingsheng's rebuttal, it swayed from side to side, as if shaking its head: "Forget it, you can only fool yourself with this. It won't fool me."

"I don't mean it... I just feel..."

"uh-huh?"