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After Wang Rong devoured the last piece of the heart, she finally turned her attention to the Holy Mother. The Holy Mother, collapsed on the ground, had already petrified; her entire body, wounds and bloodstains included, had turned a pale gray, resembling a piece of postmodern female sculpture.
Wang Rong walked over, squatted beside the Holy Mother, and gazed at her petrified face, carefully appreciating the despair, fear, and pity frozen upon it. Who would have thought that such an expression could appear on a goddess?
Wang Rong stared at the Holy Mother for a while, then suddenly threw her head back and laughed heartily, as if only now truly savoring the sweetness of victory.
After a long while, she reluctantly patted the Holy Mother a few times, reducing the "sculpture" to powder.
The Holy Mother was dead, but society remained unchanged, and so did Wang Rong.
As expected, she was a workaholic. Every day from dawn to dusk—the opening hours of "Saint Wang Rong"—she stayed within the statue, absorbing the fortune of countless female devotees. At the same time, she would carefully select a few "worthy investments" to grant some of this fortune, helping several lucky women fulfill their wishes.
After "work," she did not wander around, instead remaining inside the statue, converting the fortune accumulated during the day into spiritual power. Previously, she did not understand how to do this, but after eating the Holy Mother's heart, this skill became as natural as breathing.
Wang Rong knew she had to absorb as much fortune and convert as much spiritual power as possible in the shortest time. To accomplish her plan for revenge, she needed to become strong enough.
Occasionally, she would use some spiritual power to leave the statue, taking on different human forms. Closing her eyes and thinking of a specific place, she would soon appear there. Sometimes, she deliberately went to crowded places to interact and converse with people.
She discovered that during her time in "physical form," every action consumed spiritual power—especially contact and conversation with ordinary people, which used up the most energy. Still, Wang Rong would "let herself out" like this once a week.
Besides strengthening herself, she needed to quickly master various “skills.”
Time flew like an arrow; in the blink of an eye, six months had passed.
Tonight, Wang Rong appeared atop the tallest skyscraper in the city, overlooking both sides of the harbor, the competing commercial towers reaching into the clouds, and the myriad lights even farther away, the sea surface dyed fantastically by the multicolored lights.
Thick clouds covered the sky, blocking out the stars and moon, but forming a canopy for the city, reflecting the lights below with a glowing halo, making the small city even brighter.
Wang Rong couldn't help but marvel at how this small Eastern city, after more than a hundred years of turbulent history, had condensed all its ups and downs into this one moment of dazzling splendor.
And I now stand atop this city...
Wang Rong felt much like the poet who once wrote, "To stand atop all peaks and see all mountains below."
The city's nightscape reflected in her beautiful large eyes, making them shine like rare, multi-colored diamonds.
“How could I bear to leave this glamorous world?” Wang Rong sighed deeply, then closed her eyes.
Because she was about to meet someone. Before carrying out her plan, she wanted to see those two men.
Wang Rong opened her eyes again, looked around, and exclaimed in surprise, “I didn’t expect Xing Jun would be here. Why would he appear in this place?”
Just now, Wang Rong had closed her eyes and wished to see Xing Jun. Soon, she felt the temperature around her drop sharply, signaling her arrival. When she opened her eyes, it took a while to realize she was in the “Garden City” of North America.
Before her stood a typical North American suburban house. She knew the “person” she sought was inside and immediately flew in.
To move more freely, Wang Rong traveled in soul form, not in human shape. After all, Xing Jun was now a ghost, too.
Inside, she saw a spacious living room, one side lined with a dozen ornate metal picture frames, all displaying family photos of three people.
Wang Rong took a closer look and raised her eyebrows in surprise—she recognized the woman and child as Xing Jun’s wife and daughter, but the man in the woman’s arms was not Xing Jun, but another stranger—a sunny, vibrant man who looked younger than both Xing Jun and his wife.
Each photo was dated, all taken within one to seven years after Xing Jun’s death. As time went by, the girl’s smile in the photos became more open and natural.
Wang Rong surveyed the room: the decor was tasteful and cozy, filled with a woman’s touch. Usually, only owners of their own property would put so much care into decorating. To own such a house in Garden City would be very expensive.
From this, Wang Rong understood what had happened.
She had known in life that after Xing Jun’s funeral, his wife soon left with their daughter, disappearing from the media as there was no longer any reason to follow them.
Unexpectedly, she had come here, bought this house with Xing Jun’s inheritance, and even remarried. For a forty-something, still attractive widow inheriting a large fortune, it was no surprise she quickly found new love.
Suddenly, Wang Rong’s eyes narrowed as she spotted the last photo on the mantel—a mother and daughter smiling happily, but the woman was heavily pregnant. The date showed the photo was recent.
But why was Xing Jun still here? Wang Rong thought she already knew the answer.
Upstairs in the large house, in a bedroom by a floor-to-ceiling window, a pregnant woman sat in an armchair near an electric heater, leisurely knitting a small sweater for her soon-to-be-born child.
The whole house was heated, but she still turned on the electric heater for extra warmth.
Her husband was at work and her daughter at school, so she was alone.
She turned on the TV, not paying attention to the program, just wanting some sound to ease the quiet and steady her nerves.
Across from her was a simple wooden bed, its nightstand holding a wedding photo. But the man sitting by the bed was not the one in the photo—it was Xing Jun.
The pregnant woman was unaware of Xing Jun’s presence, of course, and could not see him. He silently stared at her with resentful eyes.
“Jun!” A delicate, yet cold female voice suddenly echoed in the room, startling Xing Jun but not the pregnant woman.
“Rong! You...” Xing Jun looked toward the voice and saw a beautiful woman in red with snow-white skin and long hair standing at the door, smiling at him. “How are you here...?” Xing Jun looked incredulous.
“You...” Not waiting for him to finish, Wang Rong interrupted, “Yes, I’m dead.”
Seeing his puzzled face, obviously unaware of what happened after his death, she summarized: “After you died, I had a good life for a while, then married Bai Shikun. Later, I died.” Xing Jun showed surprise at the mention of Bai Shikun but did not ask further, not even why she died.
What he wanted to ask was, “Then why are you here?” he looked suspicious.
Wang Rong smiled, “I came to find you. Without you, I wouldn’t have enjoyed the most successful days of my life, so I really want to know how you’re doing now.”
She glanced at the pregnant woman, still absorbed in her knitting, then at Xing Jun, “But what about you? Why are you here? What are you...planning?”
Xing Jun also looked at the pregnant woman and sighed, “After I died, I felt lost and gray, drifting endlessly, just wanting to go home, to see Sufang and Keqing again. I don’t know how long passed before I arrived here, and I don’t know how I got here...Then!...”
Suddenly his tone turned vicious as he glared at the pregnant woman and growled, “I saw her happily living with that adulterer, enjoying life, and spending my money!” Wang Rong was startled to see such a ferocious expression on his face.
After a while, Wang Rong calmly said, “Jun, you must understand—we are people of the past. The living have their own lives to continue. In modern society, you can’t expect her to remain chaste for you her whole life.”
This ruthless woman, for once, spoke earnestly. But the man’s answer surprised her.
“You think she found a new love right after arriving here? If that were true, I’d be heartbroken—after all, I died still thinking of her, while she could just move on! But if it really happened, that would be her good fortune and I’d have nothing to say.”
Now, as he looked at the pregnant woman, his resentment turned to sorrow, and his eyes grew moist. Wang Rong was moved.
“I couldn’t let her go, so I stayed by her side. During this time, I learned from their conversations that they had known each other for years, were high school classmates, and after marrying me, she reconnected with him and soon began an affair!” Finished, Xing Jun slumped on the edge of the bed, utterly dejected.
Wang Rong was silent, her heart unmoved. Xing Jun had been a playboy, cheating and betraying his wife, but he never expected his wife to outdo him in deception, betrayal, and even sharing his hard-earned fortune with her lover.
Wang Rong had met Xing Jun’s wife a few times in life—a typical virtuous wife and loving mother. She never expected her to hide so deeply. If she hadn’t accidentally caused Xing Jun’s death, he might have lived his whole life in ignorance.
“You...aren’t planning to harm her, are you? I didn’t expect you to be so vicious!” Wang Rong laughed, as if discussing something trivial, and clearly did not see “viciousness” as a shameful crime.
“What are you saying! I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that stupid.” Xing Jun looked at her, a sly glint in his eye.
“If she dies, my estate will go to that adulterer. If he dies, she’ll just find another lover. In the end, I still lose!” Xing Jun sneered. “I’m watching her so that when she gives birth, I’ll reincarnate as her and that adulterer’s child. Then...”
Saying this, Xing Jun moved to the pregnant woman, knelt beside her, and gently stroked her swollen belly.
Just then, the pregnant woman stopped knitting, stroked her own belly, and smiled happily, looking at her stomach as she said softly, “You naughty little thing, are you kicking mommy again?”
At a glance, it looked like a happy scene of expectant husband and wife awaiting their child.
Seeing this, Wang Rong was touched. She remembered when her own son Fang Zheng was still in her belly, her husband Fang Ming had knelt beside her just like Xing Jun, gently touching her belly, closing his eyes and pressing his face to her pregnant abdomen, softly saying, “Rong, thank you...for giving me a child, for giving me a family.”
Wang Rong was lost in nostalgic memories until Xing Jun’s next words shattered the warmth.
“I’ll be a prodigal son, squander all her—no, all the money I worked so hard to earn in my previous life, not leaving a penny for those two!”
The dead man’s face turned sinister. “I earned the money. After she married me, she just became a rich lady. Why shouldn’t I have the right to spend my own money?”
Wang Rong said nothing. He didn’t seem to realize he still had a daughter in the world, who needed a stable and prosperous home.
But Wang Rong didn’t plan to remind this revenge-obsessed man of that.
She simply stated a fact, “You must understand, once a soul enters a womb and is reborn, all memories of the previous life are lost. The only thing you can carry into your next life is your resentment. In your next life, from childhood, you’ll resent your parents for no reason, rebel for no reason, want to spend all their money, yet never know why.
Maybe in your next life, you’ll be addicted to drugs, gambling, or be cheated into losing everything in business. In short, you’ll ruin your wife and her lover, but even at your death, you won’t understand why your life turned out that way.” Her tone was as calm and cold as a news anchor’s.
Kneeling beside his wife, Xing Jun silently listened, head bowed.
“Even if your revenge succeeds, you won’t feel any satisfaction from it because you’ll have forgotten your past life.” Wang Rong pointed at the pregnant woman’s belly, “Because the one born from there won’t be you anymore, but someone else. It will be another person’s life.”
Still kneeling, Xing Jun gripped his knees tightly. After a while, he looked up at Wang Rong, “What about you? Don’t you want revenge? Or...do you want to become a vengeful ghost?” Seeing her in red, he thought this was something she might do.
Wang Rong, seeing the fear in his eyes, laughed, “What nonsense are you talking about? What better way is there to take revenge on your enemies than to be reborn as their child? But, you and I are different.”
Seeing his confusion, she gently added, “You and I—we’ve always been different.”
With that, she turned to leave.
“Wait!” Xing Jun suddenly stood and called after the red figure. The woman turned back, waiting for him to speak.
Xing Jun took a breath—though he no longer needed to, he still did it out of habit when nervous.
He looked into Wang Rong’s eyes and solemnly said, “Wang Rong, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had an affair with you.” He paused, then continued seriously, “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have interfered in your family and your life.”
Wang Rong looked at him for a while, then smiled calmly.
“You don’t need to feel guilty. I never blamed you. Honestly, I should thank you. If I hadn’t met you, none of the things that followed would have happened. I would never have had that chance to soar in life.”
To Xing Jun, her figure was already fading, her voice drifting off as if from afar.
“Without you, I’d have just been an ordinary career woman, earning a living, raising a family, living out my days. I would never have become the goddess of law, the president of the Holy Mother Society, or Mrs. Bai. My life would never have reached that level. So...Xing Jun...thank you...farewell...”
Her voice drifted farther and farther away, and the red figure vanished completely.
Xing Jun stood dazed in the room, unsure how to process her final words.
After a while, he slowly turned to look at his wife.
She had fallen asleep with her hands on her belly, the knitting and sweater set aside, still wearing a smile as if dreaming a happy dream.
This sleeping pregnant woman projected all her hopes for goodness and happiness onto the little life she was about to bring into the world, never imagining what entanglements from a previous life her unborn child might carry, or what karmic debts might unfold.
Wang Rong returned to her statue. She needed to rest before meeting another important person.
At this moment, though still burning with thoughts of revenge, her mind was filled with one memory:
A distant morning, when she was pregnant with her son, she awoke to find Fang Ming gently holding her, pressing his face to her belly, and softly saying, “Rong, thank you, for giving me a child, for giving me a family.”
End of Episode Two
Copyright Notice:
"Wong Rong: Requiem of Revenge"
Episode Two: Reunion with an Old Acquaintance
Original work by Jing Xixian (Vampire L). All rights reserved. Without the author's written permission, do not reproduce, reprint, adapt, repost, translate, or use for commercial purposes in any form.
© Jing Xixian (King Heyin) (Vampire L), All rights reserved.
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