Chapter 27: What Wish Did He Make?

Upon hearing the question, Yan Ruoxuan and the others turned pale.

“He... slipped and fell,” Yan Ruoxuan whispered faintly.

“Nonsense!” Zhang Sibo’s mother shouted. “Your clothes were wet when you came back that day too. What happened? Aren’t none of you able to swim? Didn’t you just stand by and watch him sink?”

Yan Ruoxuan was completely stunned. She crossed her arms, lowered her head, staring blankly at the ground, her mind a void.

“Actually...” Duan Ling’s voice choked up, “it was Ruoxuan who accidentally fell into the lake. Zhang Sibo, in a panic, jumped in to save her. We thought he could swim, since he lived by the lake, but...” Her voice broke down completely. With her sorrowful expression, it seemed as though her story was the true account of what happened.

“Yeah.” Mo An nodded. “We couldn’t do anything either. The oars couldn’t reach him. I wish I could swim.”

The living room fell into silence.

Zhang Sibo’s mother, who had been furious moments before, was stunned by these words. Then she turned abruptly, embraced Zhang Sibo’s photo, and wept loudly, her cries hoarse and heart-wrenching.

The blood moon rose nearby, bathing everything in crimson light. Seconds later, the blood moon vanished, and the scene shifted to the tree-lined path on campus.

Under the camphor tree, Yan Ruoxuan and Ning Jing stood face to face.

“Ruoxuan, are you really not going to continue studying?” Duan Ling’s voice was anxious.

“Yeah, studying doesn’t do me any good anyway.” Yan Ruoxuan showed a helpless expression. “Remember the childhood engagement I mentioned? I’ve met him. He seems nice.”

“But—” Duan Ling tried to say more, but Yan Ruoxuan interrupted her.

“—Duan Ling, if anyone bullies you, you must tell me.” Yan Ruoxuan smiled faintly.

“Is it because of Zhang Sibo?” Duan Ling lowered her head, voice trembling.

“No, it’s not that. I just simply don’t want to study.” Yan Ruoxuan shook her head. “Alright, that’s enough.” She then turned and walked toward the school gate.

Duan Ling watched Yan Ruoxuan’s back, suddenly noticing a bruise on the back of her neck. She also saw how stiff Yan Ruoxuan’s steps were. Without hesitation, she ran up and hugged her from behind.

Yan Ruoxuan trembled with pain.

“If... if that hadn’t happened, we could still play together, and...” Duan Ling’s tears fell onto Yan Ruoxuan’s shoulder. “Ruoxuan, did that person bully you?”

Yan Ruoxuan grasped Duan Ling’s hand with her left hand and gently comforted her.

“Don’t say anymore. It was my fault. I was reckless. I deserve this.”

“I just hope, Duan Ling, that this doesn’t affect you. You’re the person I care about most.”

With that, she turned around and softly wiped the tears from Duan Ling’s cheeks.

“But... it shouldn’t be like this!” Duan Ling sobbed.

Yan Ruoxuan looked at her and opened her arms for a gentle embrace. Then she whispered close to Duan Ling’s ear:

“You have to be strong.”

The blood moon rose again, its red light engulfing everything. The scene shifted once more, this time to the swimming pool.

“Hey, it’s closing soon. Mo An, aren’t you leaving?” A man entered through the side door.

“I’ll swim two more laps then leave.” Mo An surfaced from the water and took a deep breath.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re not competing. Is this necessary?” The man shook his head with a sigh.

“I don’t know. I just like swimming.” Mo An forced a smile and then gazed absently at the water surface.

“I think you don’t really like swimming. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but swimming is just your way to numb yourself.” The man sat down beside a chair.

“Ha ha ha.” Mo An laughed awkwardly, offering no rebuttal.

The scene shifted again, now inside He Hongxin’s room.

The room was clean and tidy, a small golden Buddha statue sat on the top right corner of the desk.

He Hongxin lay on the bed, eyes tightly shut, his head moving slightly from side to side.

“Don’t come near! Don’t come near!”

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t push you! It’s not my fault! Stay away!”

Suddenly, these words burst from his mouth, and then he sat up abruptly. The quiet room was filled with irregular gasps.

He Hongxin glanced around, turned on the light, and lay back down—though his eyes remained open, showing no sign of sleep.

The scene quickly shifted again, this time to the classroom.

Duan Ling sat by the window, while the Chinese teacher was explaining exercises. But Duan Ling had no interest, staring blankly outside.

At that moment, Qian Cangyi suddenly heard faint murmurs—Duan Ling’s voice.

“If that hadn’t happened, it would have been better. Is there any way?”

“Oh, I remember that book, The Moon’s Funeral. Maybe I can find an answer inside.”

Then her voice softened, and the classroom fell silent. Ning Jing, sitting by the window, seemed to sense something and quickly looked toward the podium, only to see the teacher’s stern face.

“Is it beautiful outside?” the teacher asked.

The scene shifted to Duan Ling’s bedroom. On her desk lay an old, yellowed book titled The Moon’s Funeral in large characters.

Duan Ling looked tense as she opened the book.

At that instant, the blood moon vanished completely, leaving only a crimson glow.

Within the red light, Ning Jing stared at Qian Cangyi—but her gaze was different, more like Duan Ling’s.

“A year ago, everything changed. Every morning I wake up thinking it was just a dream, but it wasn’t.”

Ning Jing’s eyes fixed on the ground. “Is there a way to change it all? If so, would you accept the cost? Mo An, what about you? Would you trade?”

Qian Cangyi remained silent, unable to control his body.

“I’m willing,” Ning Jing said, opening her arms. “So I made the trade.”

“You found the Moon God’s altar? What did you wish for? To go back in time?” Qian Cangyi asked, though it was not he controlling the body, but Mo An.

“Yes. But even if I go back, problems may still arise later. It’s better to settle it once and for all.” Ning Jing smiled faintly. “I wished to the Moon God—not to return to the past, but for us to be together forever.”

Together forever.

Those words echoed in Qian Cangyi’s mind like a twisted whisper.

He never expected Duan Ling’s wish to be such a thing. Moreover, the memory just now deeply worried him. If the clever Zhang Sibo had already died, when the wish ended, would he die along with Zhang Sibo?

At that moment, the red glow faded, leaving only darkness.