The Pitiful Little Thing of the 1980s Compound is a Metaphysics Tycoon
This chapter is machine-translated by AI, with ongoing community review. Quality may vary between chapters.
“What if that person never comes back?” the young Taoist asked.
Zhou Luoluo’s breath was as thin as a thread. “Then I will wait forever.”
The young Taoist remained unconvinced. “Twenty years of waiting, haven't you waited enough? What about after you wait for him? What else can you do?”
Zhou Luoluo was stunned. Had twenty years already passed?
No wonder even she could barely recognize herself anymore.
“Can I still see him?”
A glimmer of tears seemed to flicker in her eyes.
The young Taoist let out a low, haunting sigh. “Love entails separation; desire entails frustration.”
“Love entails separation, desire entails frustration,” Zhou Luoluo repeated his words over and over. “But I only want to see him.”
After an unknown amount of time, the young Taoist’s eyes flickered.
“Fine, then I will help you.”
A medicinal pill was held out before Zhou Luoluo.
“Swallow this, and perhaps it will give you the time to wait for the person you wish to see. But this period of time might be very, very, very long—so long that you will completely forget what you are persisting for. Are you still willing?”
“I am willing.” Zhou Luoluo took the pill with resolve and swallowed it directly.
The young Taoist merely shook his head and walked away.
The moment the pill fell into Zhou Luoluo’s mouth, she felt a heart-wrenching, soul-tearing pain. Just as she thought she was about to die, her entire being felt as if it were being reborn; even her aged skin regained the smoothness and elasticity of her youth.
“I...”
Zhou Luoluo was overcome with excitement and clearly wanted to say something, but she found she could not speak at all.
She turned her head toward Mother Liu’s grave, and a look of confusion actually surfaced in her eyes.
“Who am I? Why am I here?”
She murmured in pain, feeling as though she had forgotten something extremely important.
The vision ended there, and Su Yan and Ma Chulong returned once more to the dark tunnel.
Zhou Luoluo was still standing before them, but at this moment, the looks in their eyes toward her were tinged with sympathy and gentleness.
So, this was her entire past.
Zhou Luoluo slowly opened her closed eyes, her gaze still filled with confusion.
“Did you see who I am? I cannot leave this place,” she said somewhat incoherently.
Su Yan’s expression was complex.
Ma Chulong swallowed the words at the tip of his tongue and instead looked toward Su Yan.
The current Zhou Luoluo was neither quite human nor quite ghost; she could neither be contained nor released. For a moment, he had no idea what the best course of action would be.
“We know,” Su Yan gave a definitive answer.
Zhou Luoluo instantly showed an excited expression. “Who am I? Why must I stay here?”
Su Yan looked into the bottomless tunnel, guessing that this place might not be far from the graves of Father Liu and Mother Liu.
Ma Chulong felt a bit nervous; he hadn't expected Su Yan to choose to tell her.
“Before I tell you, you must first tell us: what did you do to the people here?”
Zhou Luoluo frowned instantly, clearly dissatisfied with Su Yan’s answer, though she did not fly into a rage.
“I only let everyone rest well. Did I do something wrong?”
“How do you possess such power?” Su Yan gave her no time to think.
Zhou Luoluo stared at her blankly, shook her head, and then continued to repeat that same sentence incessantly.
“What am I waiting for? Can someone tell me what I am waiting for?”
Seeing her in this state, Ma Chulong reminded Su Yan, “She’s completely incoherent right now; you won't get anything out of her.”
Su Yan actually knew this, but she simply wanted to try.
“You are waiting for someone.”
“I am waiting for someone?” Zhou Luoluo repeated her words verbatim.
“Yes, you are waiting for a man who will never return,” Su Yan emphasized again.
Zhou Luoluo suddenly suffered a splitting headache, clutching her head and murmuring in agony.
Fearing she might go mad, Ma Chulong grabbed the hem of Su Yan’s clothes and took a step back, creating distance between them and the woman.
A few minutes later, Zhou Luoluo gradually calmed down.
Su Yan watched her every move.
She slowly raised her head, her face covered in tear tracks.
“I... I remember. I am waiting for... Brother Zhensheng.”
At this moment, Su Yan’s heart felt very heavy.
Zhou Luoluo was crying, yet she was also laughing.
Laughing because she had finally remembered everything, and crying because of her decades of fruitless waiting.
“Zhou Luoluo, actually, you should have let go thirty years ago when you met that Taoist,” Ma Chulong said from the bottom of his heart.
“So, thirty years have already passed,” Zhou Luoluo said, looking lost.
Su Yan suddenly asked, “Do you regret it?”
For the first time, Zhou Luoluo hesitated, but after only a few seconds, her expression hardened with resolve.
“I... do not regret it.”
Twenty thousand days and nights of waiting, yet she still had no regrets.
“Do you know? What I long for is not even to be with Brother Zhensheng again; I only wanted to tell him that I kept our promise. But...”
At this point, Zhou Luoluo’s tears fell like rain.
But Heaven refused to give her even a single chance.
The person she wanted to wait for was destined never to be reached.
Looking at the crystalline teardrops on the girl's face, Su Yan felt that twenty thousand days and nights of waiting truly should not end like this.
“That letter—have you read it?”
Her sudden mention of the letter caught not only Zhou Luoluo off guard but also left Ma Chulong in shock.
Was it even necessary?
Regardless of what Liu Zhensheng had written in that letter back then, by now, he would either be well into his seventies with many children, or he would no longer be in this world.
With trembling hands, Zhou Luoluo pulled the long-yellowed envelope from her bosom.
Su Yan spoke again, “Perhaps the answer you seek is inside.”
“Su Yan, didn't Liu Zhensheng write those heartless words in the letter?” Ma Chulong felt that making Zhou Luoluo see it with her own eyes would be too cruel.
Su Yan’s expression was gentle. “No matter what was written, Zhou Luoluo has the right to see it, to bring a period to all these years of waiting.”
Ma Chulong froze slightly, seemingly understanding her thought, and encouraged Zhou Luoluo to open the letter.
The emotions Zhou Luoluo had suppressed in her heart for decades desperately needed an outlet; she finally gave a stiff nod.
It took her a full fifty years to open this letter.
Both Su Yan and Ma Chulong waited for her reaction.
Even a breakdown could be a form of release.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Though it was clearly just a single thin sheet of letter paper, Zhou Luoluo stared at it for a full twenty minutes.
The deep tunnel was filled with nothing but her sorrowful wailing.
“So that's how it is... so that's how it really is!”
The letter slipped from her fingertips. She had cried until she was a person made of tears, repeating that sentence incessantly.
“So, it really was like that!”
Su Yan seemed to have anticipated something; a faint trace of sympathy appeared on her face.
Ma Chulong could not understand. His first instinct was to pick up the letter, but when he saw clearly what was written on it, he was utterly stunned.
(End of Chapter)