Winter had finally launched its all-out assault, and Ruerke City was blanketed in thick, goose-feather snow.
The reason Lu Dongnuan was called Lu Dongnuan was because she wanted to stay warm in winter, not stand in the bone-chilling wind and snow, one hand lugging bag after bag of medicines whose effects she didn’t even know, the other hand held behind her, raising her phone for the slave master following her to see.
Behind her, Lin Mo was bundled up tightly, not even willing to take his hands out.
The nearby Brother Hao all seemed afraid of the cold, their movements much stiffer than before.
Though Lu Dongnuan had often wanted to escape, each time the thought arose, the collar around her neck became a cold curse, and Lin Mo’s teasing voice would ring in her ear: “This thing? It’s great fun. If the collars are separated by more than five hundred meters, they automatically explode. Ka-ka—what a thrill.”
She had to admit, she really had thought it was just someone’s kink in the past, which was why she’d obediently worn it.
Feeling the snowflakes on her head and her frostbitten, bright red hands, tears began streaming down her face uncontrollably.
Lin Mo looked at the wails filling the tenants’ group chat, grinning wide with delight.
“Hey, check this out. There’s someone in the group claiming to be official, saying we should pool all our supplies and hand them over to him. He says it’s so everyone can get through tough times together and we must cooperate. That’s killing me.”
“Can’t see.” Lu Dongnuan’s voice was icy; she’d never felt worse.
She regretted it again.
She thought dying at the hands of the Blind Monk would’ve been better—better a quick end than a slow torment.
If he treated her as an incense burner, so be it.
At least she’d just have to adapt a bit, take care of her own looks, her own upkeep—why subject herself to such torment?
Lin Mo saw Lu Dongnuan didn’t want to talk, so he rolled up her sleeve, exposing her frostbitten, red wrist.
“Oh? Not happy? If you’re not happy, just run for it. I’m not stopping you.”
Lu Dongnuan didn’t respond.
“Not running, huh? If not, hold it higher. I can’t see.”
Still, Lu Dongnuan ignored him.
Lin Mo stared at her back, recalling all her actions in their previous life, and almost couldn’t help but give her a kick.
But his exemplary self-control and good character held him back.
After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong yet—he could punish her when she did.
Lu Dongnuan walked silently at the front, each step leaving a deep imprint in the snow.
The plastic handles of the medicine bags dug into her fingers, turning them purple and almost numb, while her right arm, holding up the phone, had long since lost all feeling.
“Stop.” Lin Mo spoke suddenly.
Lu Dongnuan froze where she was.
He strolled up to her and reached out, brushing the snow off her head.
“To make it up to you, you can ask anything you want, all at once.”
Lu Dongnuan raised her head, looking at him, and enunciated every word: “Your death date.”
“You’ll never see it. You’ll die before me, for sure. Next.”
“Are you really someone who’s been reborn?” Lu Dongnuan still couldn’t quite believe it.
“Don’t I seem like it?”
“Then in the future… what will I become?”
Lin Mo fell silent for a moment, then spat out five words: “A thorough Beast.”
She looked at Lin Mo in disbelief, trying to find even a hint of mockery on his face, even just a trace of mean-spirited sarcasm.
But there was nothing.
His face, mostly hidden behind a scarf, only showed his eyes—and in them, something she’d never seen before: heavy, nearly tangible loathing and a kind of exhaustion she couldn’t comprehend.
Lu Dongnuan’s anger started to rise, only to be instantly suppressed.
“Beast…” she repeated unconsciously, her voice as soft as falling snow, “What did I do?”
Lin Mo turned his gaze away, looking at the distant, snow-covered streets as if it was easier to bear than glancing at her.
His Adam’s apple bobbed and when he spoke again, his voice was even more flat, and even colder, “You will do—plenty.”
He paused and his every word was like an ice shard, “To survive, or to live better, you’ll push others forward to take the blow for you, you’ll watch a child starve to death just to get a bite to eat, you’ll use everyone who’s ever been good to you, and in the end, pick them clean to the bone. Actually, I don’t even care about that. In the apocalypse, it’s normal. But still, I have to say, the reason I hate you is that we all believed in you once—and you let us down.”
Lu Dongnuan felt cold to her core, even colder than her exposed skin.
She couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t make herself overlap with the person Lin Mo described.
Was that really her?
The future her?
It was… quite fitting, actually.
Lin Mo turned his head back, eyes fixed on her face—so sharp it was as if he wanted to peel away her current skin and see the demon inside, not yet formed but destined to appear.
“Times change, and so do people. But you—” He let out a light, mocking laugh, full of endless ridicule.
“Deep down, you have that inherent flaw. Just a bit of despair and temptation, and it’ll sprout and grow into a towering tree.”
He raised his hand—not to touch her, but to point at the cold collar around her neck.
“This isn’t just to keep you from running. It’s to remind you. And to remind me.” His fingertip nearly touched the metal, but at the last moment, he withdrew.
“Remind you what you are, remind me never to let you become that again.”
“So, are you here to save the world too? Are you planning to build some city-state—Demacia, Ionia, or Freljord?”
Seeing Lin Mo’s confusion, she added, “Oh, sorry, Noxus is already taken. I’ll be his deputy in the future.”
Lin Mo shook his head and said, “Question time is over. Once we finish with these, we’re heading back.”
He pointed at a Pharmacy.