The butterfly landed on his shoulder

When Wen Ning jolted awake from her dream, it was pitch-black outside. Rain battered the bedroom's floor-to-ceiling windows, leaving her momentarily unable to tell whether this was a dream or reality.

The old monk's words from the dream still lingered in her ears, and her head felt heavy and muddled.

Why had she suddenly dreamed of her childhood, and of that old monk she had met back then?

And wasn't the story the old monk had told a little too familiar?

Wasn't that exactly what Bo Yan had gone through as a child?

Could it be that she had been through too much lately, and after interacting with Bo Yan every day and being a simp for so long, she had started weaving a dream like this for herself?

Wen Ning truly didn't remember that unusual encounter at the temple as a child. Instinctively, she felt that tonight's dream was merely a story about Bo Yan's past that had come from what occupied her thoughts during the day.

Otherwise... that would really be too absurd!

Bo Yan was just a character in a novel, a fictional character, whereas the world she had lived in before transmigrating into the book was a real, existing world.

How could Bo Yan, a character from a novel, possibly appear in the real world?

Wen Ning shook her head, telling herself not to dwell on it, but some things burrowed into your mind through every crack the harder you tried not to think about them.

Like the suicide by jumping off a building the old monk had mentioned, and his vague words about being twenty-eight and losing his sense of taste...

Before Wen Ning had transmigrated, according to her best friend, only half this novel had been written. Bo Yan's revenge had only just begun, and after his revenge was over, there would still be the protagonists finishing him off and so on. The novel was still being serialized.

But just now, she seemed to have dreamed of... Bo Yan's ending?

Was that possible? Would Bo Yan jump off a building and kill himself at twenty-eight? Would he lose his sense of taste, too? Why had the old monk specifically emphasized losing his sense of taste?

Bo Yan was twenty-six now. If he killed himself at twenty-eight, that left him two years to take revenge.

Judging by how he was still in that world-weary, whatever-I-might-as-well-die phase...

Seriously, was two years really enough for revenge?

Ah! Forget it. What a bizarre dream.

And Wen Ning realized that whether in the dream or awake right now, the mere thought of the words "suicide by jumping off a building" made her heart ache faintly.

Oh no, oh no. Wen Ning, why are you starting to feel sorry for a man again!

Stop, stop, stop!

Wen Ning picked up her phone and checked the time. It was already nine at night. She hadn't slept all that long, but it hadn't been a short nap either.

After putting on her shoes and quickly washing up, Wen Ning hopped downstairs.

Her father, mother, and Wen Jing were all downstairs, and Tian Xin was there too.

Seeing that she was awake, Wen Jing ran over like a lackey and took his sister's hand, as though escorting the empress dowager.

Hearing her coming downstairs, her mother told Auntie Zhao to heat up the food.

"Babe, are you feeling any better?" Tian Xin held Wen Ning's hand and looked her over, worry all over her face.

Based on the original owner's chat history with Tian Xin and her Moments posts, Wen Ning had concluded that these two were genuine best friends, without a shred of fake friendship mixed in.

And when Wen Ning had browsed her Moments earlier, she had noticed something strange. The original owner was a completely different person around her family and best friend than she was around the protagonists-Bo Xubai, Bo Yan, Jiang Tingwan, and Jiang Tingwan's child.

Every Moments post about her family and best friend showed that the original owner was a carefree, happy, innocent little princess.

Yet the moment the little princess's topics involved the protagonists, she instantly turned into a brainless, vicious supporting female character.

Just like a cannon-fodder NPC forcibly controlled to carry out plot tasks.

Of course, perhaps she was being too sensitive and overthinking things. Maybe the original owner was simply more relaxed around her family and best friend, while around the man she liked, her brain lost all its wrinkles, and she enjoyed digging up wild greens and eating plain rice porridge or something...

So, faced with the original owner's best friend's concern, Wen Ning gave her a sincere smile.

"Better, but my face still hurts." She acted cute in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Wen Ning seemed highly guarded, but anyone who truly knew her knew that she was easy to get along with.

Perhaps because her parents had divorced when she was little, and she had been rather rebellious back then, Wen Ning had been a lone wolf for a long time. She had barely made any friends throughout elementary, middle, and high school.

It wasn't until she met her best friend in college that Wen Ning realized she had actually always longed to make friends.

Just as she longed for her parents' love.

At those words, Tian Xin rolled up her sleeves and let loose a stream of bleep-worthy curses, looking ready to tear apart those kidnappers' ancestral graves the very next second.

Seeing Tian Xin reminded Wen Ning of her own best friend.

These two really did have exactly the same personality.

Yes, she could tell at a glance that Tian Xin and her best friend would get along.

Over on the other side, her father wrapped an ice pack in a handkerchief, came over, and pressed it against his daughter's slightly red, swollen cheek, both angry and distressed.

Her mother also brought medicine to treat Wen Ning's ankle.

Wen Jing was one step away from holding up her bowl and feeding his sister himself.

Wen Ning didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "All right, all right, I'm really fine. I can feed myself. It's my foot that's out of commission, not my hands..."

Only then did Wen Jing give up.

But soon, the whole family started cursing again, asking why their daughter was so unlucky and why that dumbass Bo Xubai was such a jinx. Finally, they all turned into Zaunites, "digging up" the kidnappers' ancestral graves with their curses. Even Auntie Zhao stood with her hands on her hips, cursing away.

Under the bright lights, amid the sound of rain, the Wen household was lively beyond measure.

Compared with the lively, warm Wen household, the atmosphere at the Bo household was unusually heavy.

Outside, the rain grew heavier and heavier. The butler had already looked outside seven or eight times in ten minutes.

Like everyone else in the Bo Family, the butler looked down on Bo Yan, the illegitimate son.

But in this weather, with that illegitimate son having just suffered the family's punishment, something was bound to happen to him if he kept kneeling outside like that.

Human hearts were made of flesh, after all. In the end, the butler couldn't bear it and spoke up. "Sir, the rain outside is getting heavier... perhaps we could have him kneel somewhere else..."

He said that last part rather fearfully.

He saw the bespectacled man, who had been looking down at his work, lift his head at those words and glance beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

After just one glance, Bo Yan's father withdrew his gaze and said indifferently, "Until he admits his mistake, if he wants to kneel, let him keep kneeling."

It was only a simple sentence, yet it frightened the butler so badly that even the fat on his body trembled.

He immediately broke into a cold sweat.

Mr. Bo hardly wanted that child to admit his mistake. He merely felt that the child had grown increasingly disobedient lately and wanted to teach him a lesson he would remember.

What Mr. Bo had always needed was not a child, but an obedient dog.

Sigh.

The butler heaved a deep sigh inwardly. Bo Yan probably hadn't known this would be his lot after being brought back to the Bo Family, either.

If the rain kept coming down like this, that illegitimate son would probably lose half his life. His serious injuries from some time ago hadn't healed to begin with, and tonight only piled snow upon frost...

The butler shook his head helplessly. Seeing that Bo Yan's father's water glass was empty, he went over and refilled it.

Steam curled upward from the glass, while Bo Yan, kneeling in the pouring rain, was cold all over.

He felt as though he was burning hot, yet also as though he was freezing.

The rain blurred his vision. Blood from Bo Yan's back flowed with the rainwater and gathered in a small puddle beside him, only to be quickly washed away by the downpour, over and over.

He wasn't in pain-or rather, he had long since grown numb to pain and could no longer feel it.

He simply drifted off now and then, thinking: Is she awake? Does her face still hurt? She's so delicate; she must be crying from the pain... What about her ankle? Is it swollen? Food? Has she eaten... So her favorite dish is fish with pickled mustard greens... Just like her. A troublemaker who likes troublesome food... Is fish with pickled mustard greens really that good? What a shame. What she likes is something I'll never be able to try in this lifetime... Sure enough, she should go back to the Wen household. That's her home...

Home...

Home...

Having a home is nice.

Having a home really is nice.

Bo Yan's head felt a little heavy. A second before he could no longer hold himself up and was about to collapse, he seemed to hear someone calling him.

Bo Yan thought he must have a fever. Is it a fever? This feeling should be a fever, right?

He didn't know. Growing up, he had hardly ever been to a hospital, and he didn't know whether it was his body or his heart that was sick. All he knew was that closing his eyes and sleeping would make it better.

When he woke, it would be light.

Mm, this should be a fever, right?

He was even starting to hallucinate.

He seemed to hear Wen Ning's voice, and seemed to see her figure, too.

The rain came down hard, so very hard. Bo Yan raised his head with difficulty.

Rain blurred his vision. All he could see was a splash of vivid red drawing closer and closer.

The second he collapsed, that splash of red was like a butterfly in the dark, rushing toward him without hesitation.

He didn't fall straight into the rainwater. Someone caught him.

He smelled that familiar peach fragrance, faint and very sweet.

So it really was a butterfly.

On this very night, at this very moment-

The butterfly came for him.

The butterfly landed on his shoulder.