Chapter 2: It's Just a Coincidence, I Miss Him Too Much

A "crack" sound echoed as the bathroom mirror shattered.

With the sound of the shattering, Ying Jing, who had been lying flat on the bed, slowly opened her eyes.

She first raised her hand to glance at the delicately wrapped gauze on her wrist.

Then she lowered it.

Immediately, an expression of disbelief appeared on her face, and she sat up abruptly from the bed.

Her heart was in a state of turmoil.

The scene before her was so familiar; before she could think too much, the bedroom door was pushed open quickly from the outside.

The next second, Mother Ying, looking haggard, hurried into the room, her eyes brimming with tears.

Mother Ying had heard the noise from downstairs and rushed up.

Her tone was full of concern: "Baby, you're awake. Is there anywhere you feel uncomfortable?"

Under the woman's questioning, Ying Jing shook her head.

Her mind was a bit chaotic right now; she didn't know if what was happening before her was a dream or reality.

She should have been dead!

At the age of thirty.

Thinking of something, Ying Jing hurriedly threw off the quilt and ran straight to the bathroom without even bothering to put on shoes.

She remained indifferent even as the broken glass on the floor pierced the soles of her feet.

The remaining half of the mirror was stuck to the wall, its countless cracks baring their teeth. Ying Jing saw her own face through the fissures.

Looking at her reflection in the countless fragments, she was filled with thoughts.

Her fingertips subconsciously brushed over the delicate skin of her face.

Under Mother Ying's scream, she pinched the flesh on her body hard.

The pain made her shed tears immediately.

Mother Ying followed her, pulling her hand over with a pained expression, furious. "You tell me, why are you being foolish again? It’s not like our family doesn't have money; why must you insist on that poor boy? You even went on a hunger strike and slit your wrists for him."

That was it.

Now Ying Jing could be certain: she had been reborn, reborn to the year she was twenty.

The Ying family was still there, her parents were healthy, and her brother was still there too.

It was shortly after she had first transmigrated into this world in her previous life.

Ying Jing wept with joy and turned to hug Mother Ying tightly.

"Mom, I'm sorry."

Mother Ying only thought she was apologizing for her foolishness this time and didn't think much of it. Only Ying Jing, who had experienced life and death once, understood.

This "I'm sorry" spanned two lifetimes.

"It's okay, as long as you're alright." Her mother kept soothing Ying Jing's emotions.

"Mom, I'm a little tired. Can you let me rest for a while?" She needed to calm down properly now.

Mother Ying rambled on about many things, all of which were words for her own good.

After her mother left, Ying Jing sat blankly on the bed.

After all, having lived once more, she didn't know if she still needed to follow the plot. She never wanted to experience the feeling of dying back to a plot point again just because she didn't follow the script in her previous life.

The pain in the soles of her feet pulled her thoughts back. Ying Jing carefully removed the glass shards and threw them into the trash can.

After applying medicine, she lay on the bed, bored, and scrolled through her phone. As she scrolled, she saw a post her good friend Wen Yue had made a few minutes ago.

【Wen Yue: Second Uncle is in Shanghai, a small gathering. [Photo]】

Ying Jing would never forget that half of a fair wrist wearing a watch exposed in the photo.

She sat up, somewhat agitated.

In the original plot of her previous life, shouldn't Wen Fucheng have come to Shanghai at the end of the year? Why had he appeared now, in September?

It wasn't that she remembered it clearly; it was just that the impression Wen Fucheng left on her was too profound.

This head of the Wen family, whose background and identity were mysterious and unfathomable in the original novel, had always been a powerful existence.

Even more imposing than the male lead's aura.

Unfortunately, there weren't many descriptions of him in the novel, and the author had used all the flowery language available for his few appearances.

It once made Ying Jing think that Wen Fucheng was the real protagonist.

Could it be that the plot had deviated because of her rebirth?

Or was it that she had already broken free from the control of the plot?

At the thought of this possibility, Ying Jing was so happy she could almost jump up.

After tidying up, Ying Jing grabbed her bag and sprinted downstairs.

Mother Ying, who was still downstairs, had ordered the housekeeper to prepare a table full of delicious food.

Just as she was about to call her to eat, she saw that she had already come down and seemed in good spirits, so she smiled and stopped Ying Jing.

She beckoned to her.

"Jingbao, you're up? I was just about to call you, come and eat."

"Mom, I have an urgent matter and need to go out. You eat by yourself." After putting on her shoes and pushing the door open, she was already halfway out. Standing at the door, Ying Jing thought of something and turned back to look at Mother Ying, who was standing inside with a worried expression. "Mom, don't worry. I'm not going to find Lu Zishu."

"You just recovered, and you're running around. How can I not worry!"

By the time she chased after her, Ying Jing had already run off as fast as a rabbit; there was no sign of her left.

This child, she didn't look at all like someone who would slit her wrists and commit suicide for a man!

Ying Jing, having run out of the house, stood by the side of the road, panting.

She had come out in such a hurry that she almost forgot the main point.

She really missed him too much.

Thinking that there were people she knew present, she immediately dialed her friend's number.

Xu Yi was meeting with several friends when he received Ying Jing's call.

Today's gathering was organized by Wen Yue.

When the abrupt ringtone sounded in the private room, it immediately attracted the attention of everyone present.

Xu Yi stood up, swiped to answer the phone, and called out gently.

"Ying Jing?"

A friend on the side teased: "A call from that little princess of the Ying family?"

It was so obvious.

"Ask Jingbao to come out and play! Haven't seen her in a long time. Don't tell me the little girl is still foolishly following Lu Zishu around?" Jiang Cheng was good friends with Xu Yi and had many dealings with the Ying family, so he was familiar with Ying Jing. Among the younger generation of these few major families, there were few girls, and she had become the little sister held in the palms of these young masters.

Her life had been smooth sailing all the way.

Except for that year in her second year of high school, when Ying Jing had lost her mind and insisted on chasing after a poor boy.

"Lu Zishu?"

"Yeah, Lu Zishu." Speaking of Lu Zishu, Jiang Cheng was full of anger. "I don't know what's so good about this Lu Zishu... he..." Jiang Cheng thought about who had asked the question and was just about to go on a rant when he turned his head and saw Wen Fucheng looking at him with a cold, sharp gaze, as if he were saying, "Why don't you continue?"

"Second Uncle, you like listening to gossip too!" Jiang Cheng broke into a cold sweat.

"En, I like listening."

Under the dim yellow light, the man answered unhurriedly.

Wen Fucheng was so blunt; those further away only knew they were chatting, but those closer, like Jiang Cheng, began to have intriguing thoughts.

What he said was interesting.

The men present tonight were all outstanding figures, the future pillars of Shanghai.

This Wen Fucheng was different; although he was a few years older than them, his status was a level higher.

The Wen family was the richest in the Imperial Capital, and the Imperial Capital was the economic center of all of China. In recent years, the Wen family's industries had spread across the country.

After Wen Fucheng took over, it was even more incredible.

As for why he was here today, it was purely because his nephew, Wen Yue, had let it slip.

There were too many people who wanted to get to know Wen Fucheng; he was famous, and he was a big deal.

He knew when to be playful and when to be serious.

Seeing such an idol-like figure, these young masters, who were usually rowdy, all restrained themselves quite a bit.