My muddled brain had more or less cleared up by now.
Though I still couldn't fully sort out the feelings in my dreams—my own, Lei Yinyin's, and Huashan's—and couldn't tell whose hatred or murderous intent sometimes surfaced, or who it was directed at, I had at least come to understand a little.
That understanding wasn't anything new.
Gu Mo had told me long ago, even warned me, that he thought I would become some kind of evil ghost after I died.
This experience had merely made my previously confused mind recognize and accept that reality.
I wouldn't become another Ruan Yuxia. Perhaps I wouldn't become another Lei Yinyin, or turn into another Huashan after I died, either. But I would definitely become a ghost, and kill whoever made me angry or resentful.
I might well become one of those female ghosts whose faces had been skinned, endlessly searching for my enemies for a very long time, perhaps even refusing to give up until I found them in their next lives.
But I didn't know how long I could keep that up.
Somewhere along the way, I might become "Huashan," with no restraints and no moral boundaries left from my life as a human. If I disliked someone, I would kill them; on a whim, I might kill someone without hesitation.
I didn't want to become like that, but the possibility was real.
I stared at the empty sofa across from me.
I thought Greenleaf was probably a ghost like those female ghosts. He was still holding on, though he had begun to waver ever so slightly. He would quickly suppress those doubts himself. He hadn't lost control. Perhaps he never would completely lose control.
He wouldn't become "Huashan." He wouldn't change from "Ye Qing" into "Greenleaf."
He might become cruel