Quick Transmigration: The Yandere Boss Pretends to Be Well After He's Gone Mad

After Jinglian finished speaking, the hall fell silent.

For some reason, even though talking to Shiga should have been a very happy thing, Jiang Xiyu felt a strange mix of emotions at that moment. It was an indescribable feeling, as if her thoughts were shrouded in a fog, making them very difficult to understand.

Of course, what puzzled him even more was Shiga's attitude.

Although Shiga was always so calm and composed, Jiang Xiyu had been by his side for quite some time. From the conversation just now, he could clearly feel Shiga's care at first, but later, when Shiga was silent, Jiang Xiyu felt a slight sense of distance.

A gentle warmth that is both close and distant, a cold indifference that appears and disappears.

Jiang Xiyu felt something was strange, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

He could only quietly ponder every word Shiga had just said. He remembered each one—gentle, brief, calm… Perhaps because he had truly felt Shiga's kindness towards him, Jiang Xiyu's concern for him was also spontaneous…

However, Jiang Xiyu would never accept it if her concern was seen as a disturbance.

Just now, he asked to talk to Shiga more often, but Shiga remained silent for a long time. In the end, he even agreed to Jiang Xiyu's request not to disturb him. As a result, Jiang Xiyu would reflect on himself and wonder if he had been too rash and had really delayed the monk's cultivation.

After all, Shiga had always preferred quiet, and Jiang Xiyu's questions and remarks were mostly trivial matters.

How could I bother him with such a trivial matter?

Jiang Xiyu smiled faintly, then slowly lowered his eyes. He stared at the Buddhist beads on his wrist for a long time before closing his eyes slightly. His eyes were misty in the floating sunlight, casting a radiant glow into the room.

The radiance of the prayer beads completely dimmed.

News of him has ceased, and his return is uncertain.

Jiang Xiyu's voice lingered in the brilliant sunlight of the meditation room, and also in the chanting amidst the swaying shadows of the trees.

A quiet and peaceful place.

Shiga remained silent, fiddling with his prayer beads for a long while before finally looking up at the window, gazing into the distance.

He has his own things to do.

Cibei Temple was ultimately not his final resting place.

What does his spiritual practice have to do with him?

He doesn't know anything...

His concern for himself stemmed from genuine care and respect.

However, due to his own selfishness, he became irritated and obsessed with this concern.

A gentle breeze stirred, and the sound of the prayer beads being turned seemed to falter for a moment.

Shiga suddenly gripped the rosary tightly, but the warmth from the rosary had already dissipated.

He slowly lowered his eyes, gazing at the prayer beads, his expression as calm as still water.

Jinglian looked at him and sighed silently.

Without knowing a specific return date for the little cat demon, and with him gone, the Buddhist disciple's longing for him only grows stronger.

Jinglian, fearing that Shijia would be consumed by longing, pondered for a long time before finally speaking, "Buddha's disciple, perhaps I should go and call him back, you..."

Shiga shook his head.

He looked at Jinglian, his face appearing somewhat pale.

"Do not."

Don't disturb him.

Seeing his refusal, Jinglian's worries deepened, but she dared not say a word.

Looking at Shiga's current state, he had a bad feeling.

The Buddhist disciple's evil thoughts waxed and waned, but due to his emotional turmoil, he was unable to regain his magical power for a long time. Now, in Jinglian's eyes, his mortal body was becoming increasingly weak.

If the little cat demon doesn't return soon, Jinglian fears... something unexpected might happen.

But the next moment, something unexpected happened.

Shiga suddenly raised his hand to cover his chest, his figure swayed, as if he was about to fall.

Jinglian quickly knelt down to support him, her voice anxious, "Buddha's disciple, what's wrong?!"

Shiga frowned, and a burning pain in his chest made his body tremble slightly.

After the darkness that had overwhelmed him subsided, he waved to Jinglian to indicate that he was alright.

Jinglian looked at his pale face and was immediately filled with fear.

He wanted to do something for Shiga, but Shiga refused and told him to leave first.

Jinglian was worried, but she had no choice but to disobey Shijia's words. She could only channel her magic power into him to alleviate his suffering before daring to leave the meditation room.

Only after the person left did Shiga lower his hand from his chest.

After losing his magical powers, the Seal of Empathy suddenly appeared one night.

Shiga is now a mortal, and he can only perceive the subtle emotions of evil through empathy. Moreover, these emotions are deliberately released by evil, and Shiga cannot find its trace through this insignificant empathy...

Evil thoughts can not only probe his mood, but also mark him and absorb his delusions to strengthen themselves. Moreover, the more evil thoughts absorb, the weaker his body will become, and he will feel as if he has fallen into an icy hell, a long and agonizing process.

Shiga braced himself against the table with one hand, calmly waiting for the icy, bone-chilling pain to subside.

When it got extremely cold, his hands seemed unable to support themselves as they swept across the table.

The little cat demon on the table was accidentally knocked off by the hem of his cassock. It rolled toward the edge of the table, but was caught by a pair of hands just before it fell.

Shiga's hand trembled slightly, then he tightened his grip on the kitten's fingers.

He carefully tucked the kitten into his sleeve, then sat upright, expressionless, as if he felt no pain.

If the kitten hadn't fallen onto the table, the stillness in his eyes would have momentarily flickered with pain and panic before vanishing without a trace.

The physical pain didn't affect him at all; it was just that the pain reminded him of the warmth that had seeped into his heart during the backlash.

That touch of tenderness from the past stirred up countless desires in his mind, desires that flowed like a still river, endlessly.

The more Shiga restrains itself, the more turbulent its flow becomes.

Images related to that person kept resurfacing, and gradually, they seemed to become a kind of inner demon.

To combat his inner demons, Shiga would detach his thoughts from himself.

He stood on high ground, watching indifferently as his body succumbed to pain, no longer dwelling on those images, but silently reciting scriptures.

All forms and appearances are illusory.

These desires are illusory, like quicksand or duckweed; they cannot be grasped or held onto.

Do not try to hold on to it, nor pay attention to it. Wait for it to drift away and for everything to return to silence. As long as your thoughts are not carried away by delusions, you can resist it.

When you are truly able to resist, you will find that these greedy desires are like a gentle breeze; once they pass, they can no longer cause any ripples...

His figure remained motionless until the sun dipped low.

In the dim light, everything dissipated along with the fragrant mist.

And the Buddhist beads, thousands of miles away, seemed to sense the pain he was enduring.

……