Female Transformation: I Run Away When I See the Female Lead

Aunt Mo sat down, her back against a charred wall, her seemingly calm back trembling slightly. Jing Jin stared at the blood oozing from her waist. The crimson spread across the gray fabric like a seductive flower, pooling on the ground in a dark red pool.

Jing Jin was extremely anxious and hurried to Aunt Mo's side. Her little face was full of anxiety and nervousness. She stared at Aunt Mo's wound closely, and her eyes were filled with tears.

Aunt Mo lowered her eyes and looked at the little girl in front of her, her face tilted up. Tears were still on her eyelashes. She wanted to raise her hand to wipe the child's tears, but she saw the blood on her palm. She smiled self-deprecatingly, her voice as soft as the wind in the desert: "I don't know if you can survive this time. If you have to die with me, when we return to the underworld, your father will definitely scold me for not being able to save you."

Jing Jin shook his head violently, grabbed Aunt Mo's bloodstained cuff, and his fingertips touched the uneven wound under the fabric. A salty taste rose in his throat: "No! Aunt Mo, you really tried your best. I didn't want to live like this a long time ago, and so many people were implicated because of me." Before he finished speaking, a low spiritual power fluctuation suddenly swept across the distant sky.

When Bai Zhengyi appeared behind the broken wall, Jing Jin felt a chill like an icy blade lingering around him. His eyes swept across Aunt Mo's bloodstained collar, finally landing on Jing Jin's face, his pupils shrinking slightly.

The moment the five Divine Transformation cultivators saw him, some of them still had admiration in their eyes. They retracted the magic weapons they had raised, clasped their fists to their foreheads, and said in a trembling voice: "I pay my respects to the prince."

Bai Zhengyi, however, acted as if he hadn't heard anything, walking straight to Aunt Mo's side. The python pattern embroidered on his dark brocade robe faded with each step, and the jade pendant at his waist jingled with a resonant sound. The overwhelming pressure he emanated made the air stagnate. Jing Jin felt her breath hitch, and she subconsciously shrank back behind Aunt Mo.

Aunt Mo looked up at this old friend she had known for a hundred years, and suddenly burst into tears. "Your Highness, you owe me a promise. Can you keep it?"

"I want you to ensure she doesn't get hunted by your people for the rest of her life." Aunt Mo's voice suddenly became clearer. Jing Jin saw her clutching Bai Zhengyi's sleeve, her knuckles turning white from the force. "She shouldn't be trapped in this generation's grudges. Big Brother knew he would fail before it even started."

Bai Zhengyi was silent like a deep pool, his gaze lingering on Jing Jin's face for a long moment. He suddenly leaned forward, his dark robe almost brushing Aunt Mo's bloodstained skirt. His voice was so low that only the three of them could hear, "Was it worth it? This admission could have saved all of you. Why use it now?"

Aunt Mo suddenly burst into a crazy laugh, startling the crows in the distance and making them fly away.

The tears from her laughter mixed with blood foam fell on her clothes, but her laughter became more and more hearty: "Prince, we are not the kind of people who are afraid of death!" She coughed suddenly, and the blood seeping from between her fingers dripped onto the back of Jing Jin's hand, scalding the child. "What's more, you were born under that imperial power. It's like a clear source of water appearing in muddy water. Who can guarantee that this source of water will still be clear?" Her laughter gradually turned into sobs, and she reached out to stroke Jing Jin's trembling shoulders. "But I just don't want to be scolded by my eldest brother after I die. I've been nagged by him for so many years, and I'm tired of it, but he doesn't..."

After a long time, Bai Zhengyi nodded heavily. When he turned around, his sleeves brought up a gust of wind. Before the five Jindan cultivators could react, they felt a sharp pain in their heads, and their memories scattered like broken glass.

"Where is this? Who are you?" Someone fumbled around the broken wall, their voices filled with childlike bewilderment. Bai Zhengyi didn't even glance at them. With a flick of his fingertips, he fabricated a false memory. He scooped them up like rags and vanished into the dusty sand.

Aunt Mo looked in the direction where he disappeared, and her tense shoulders finally relaxed, but she suddenly frowned when she touched the wine bag at her waist - Jing Jin was holding the bag, and a few drops of amber wine leaked out between his fingers.

"Don't drink anymore. What should I do if you die?" The child's crying mixed with the smell of wine. Jing Jin's little face wrinkled into a ball, and tears fell down in big drops, leaving clear marks on her dusty face.

Aunt Mo pretended to glare angrily, but when she touched the child's trembling shoulders, the softest part of her heart collapsed.

She used her sleeve to wipe Jing Jin's tears, but smeared blood on the child's face. She couldn't help laughing: "You are so small and yet you dare to stop me from drinking!"

But as she laughed, her fingers slowly fell on Jingjin's sweaty head, and the calluses on her palms rubbed against the child's soft hair, like stroking a wounded little animal.

The afterglow of the setting sun stretched their shadows very long. Aunt Mo looked at the orange disk that was about to sink in the sky, and suddenly remembered the snowy night before her sister-in-law gave birth - the same setting sun dyed through the window lattice, she leaned on the bed, looked at the red plum blossom in full bloom at the bedside, and whispered, "It's good to be alive."

Thinking of this, Aunt Mo smiled faintly and murmured softly, "Now he won't have a chance to criticize me."

Jing Jin tightly grasped Aunt Mo's wine bag. The wine leaked between her fingers and seeped into her palm. The spicy taste made her frown, but she refused to let go.

Big tears fell on the wine bag, startling the gerbils in the distance to stop. Aunt Mo looked at her like this, feeling reluctant, but still gently pried open her fingers - not pushing them away, but stuffing the wine bag into her arms and hooking the laces for her with her bloody fingertips.

"Go to sleep, Xiaojin." Aunt Mo's spiritual power transformed into a gentle light, gently enveloping Jingjin. In the last moment of losing consciousness, Jingjin heard Aunt Mo's sigh, like a feather landing on the tip of her heart: "We will protect you. We just hope that you are alive. As long as you are alive..."

In Jingjin's consciousness, Aunt Mo's last sigh was still echoing in his ears, and Jingjin couldn't help but shed clear tears.

Aunt Mo held the unconscious girl in her arms and staggered through the crisscrossing alleys of Yangluo City. The setting sun twisted and broke their shadows.

Jing Jin's sight was as if through frosted glass, but the moment he caught a glimpse of the caravan on the street corner, it suddenly became clear - the woman in the lead was waving a gilded folding fan, and the ruby ​​hairpins on her temples swayed gently with her movements. It was Jing Wanyi.

Aunt Mo slowly squatted down against the mottled earthen wall, and her rough fingertips stroked Jing Jin's eyebrows for the last time, muttering to herself: "You will have a new name in the future, which will also represent a new life." When she opened the secret compartment of the wooden box, Jing Jin saw the blood scab on her palm rubbing against the edge of the box, leaving a dark red mark on the dark brown wood grain.

As the lid of the box closed, Jing Jin's memories fell into complete darkness, but he could still hear Aunt Mo's footsteps gradually fading away, echoing in the empty alley, getting farther and farther away until they were swallowed up by a sudden sound of wind and sand.

Jing Wanyi was in her twenties at that time, but beneath her stunning beauty, she harbored a heart that valued money more than anything else. The look in her eyes when she counted the money was even more fiery than when she looked at rare treasures. Her fingertips stroked the patterns on the banknotes, as if she were touching the most precious treasure in the world.

In the ghost town, everyone knows that Miss Jing from the Jing family is a living god of wealth that cannot be messed with.