Make Him My Home

Ying Jing was dead. She had died in the middle of a snowy winter.

She had a hunch.

Leaving presupposed that everything had been arranged.

–

The scenery of Yingshan was good. It was located in a remote area with few people coming and going.

On this day, there was a touch of red on the stairs halfway up the mountain. They walked slowly.

The woman's hand trembled as she held the wooden walking stick. A thin layer of sweat appeared on her forehead, and beads of sweat slid down the side of her face.

She looked up at the stairs and saw that she was still more than a hundred steps away.

Her lips twitched but she continued climbing. The sound of her heartbeat grew louder.

When the young monk sweeping the floor saw her, he dropped the broomstick and trotted up to her. He helped her to the main hall.

"It's been snowing heavily in the Imperial Capital for the next few days. The boardwalk is covered in thick snow. Did you come alone?"

Ying Jing tilted her head to look at the young monk and said with a smile, "It's fine. The snow is just right. In a few days, the snow will seal the mountain road."

She took a few steps forward alone, then turned back to the young monk as a thought struck her. "It's been ten years. You're taller than I am now." She was smiling, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.

This reunion did not last long. Ying Jing met the abbot in the side hall.

Ying Jing walked straight to the Buddha and knelt down with her hands clasped together devoutly.

Ten years ago, she had transmigrated from her death in the real world into a novel and became a supporting character who had to die if she didn't follow the plot. In the past ten years, she had courted death a lot as she created stumbling blocks in the path of the main couple.

She had resisted the plot, but she still could not escape her fate.

She had finally succeeded in getting herself killed.

The Ying family was gone, her parents were gone, and her brother had been schemed against because of her.

In the real world, Ying Jing died in a plane crash. She was an orphan with no attachments. It was the Ying family who had given her warmth and care.

Unfortunately, she was a supporting character and was forced to follow the plot.

Who knew that she would see the end of her life in ten years?

Ten years had worn down her personality. She was no longer as bright and delicate as she had been when she was twenty years old. Strong sorrow accumulated in her eyes.

But she was still beautiful. She had stood strong in the entertainment industry for ten years. The years had not robbed her of her beauty.

To this day, global fans admired her beauty and acting skills.

Ying Jing touched her chest and felt a little hot. There lay a ten-year secret.

The abbot in the temple added some oil to the long lamp in the hall.

"Where do you think people go when they die, Master?" The world had become more than a book to her.

Everyone around her was flesh and blood, the most real existence.

"Wherever Miss Ying wants to go is her final destination."

Was that really the case?

She smiled.

After experiencing so much, Ying Jing still retained the cleanest place in her heart and kept the last trace of beautiful fantasy.

"I want to do it all over again. Without the constraints of the plot, with only one true heart, I can tell him that I like him." She said the words of love, like the little girl who had fallen in love with him after meeting him that year.

Hearing the murmurs behind him, the Master walked out of the hall, his gaze fixed on something far away.

At this moment, there was a smear of black on the steps of the hill. The snow was getting heavier.

… .

Ying Jing walked out of the hall to the inner courtyard. This was the only clean place that was not covered in snow. She found a bench to sit on under a tree.

Perhaps sensing the presence of death, the snow stopped swirling at some point.

Ying Jing reached out and caught a few falling snowflakes.

The brief sunset broke through the sky, casting a crimson glow.

The sun shone warmly through the gaps in the treetops.

She reached out and felt the warmth.

No pain showed on her face. She was smiling.

Until her vision gradually blurred, she thought she saw a familiar figure appear at the end of the road.

The man came sweeping through the snow, but his body was unbearably warm. He pulled her carefully into his arms. Unfortunately, it seemed she could no longer hold him.

"Ying Jing." He whispered her name hoarsely as he stroked her hair over and over.

"Yes, I'm here?" She responded to him. He was her dream for ten years. It was a liking she could not bring herself to say out loud.

She had let too many people down in her life.

She gripped his hand firmly. "My brother, he is innocent. Please save him."

The handsome man stroked her cheek gently, agreeing to all her requests.

"That's good."

It was all she could do.

No, there's something else very important.

"Wen Fucheng, did I never tell you that I like you very much?" From the very first chapter, those cold words had started to have a life of their own, jumping around in her life. "It's not that you don't exist, it's that you've always been here." It was all in her heart. "If this is a dream, can you stay in my dream for a while longer?"

She regretted it.

Back then, it was impossible for her to travel overseas for so many years. Yet he had quietly guarded her in another country.

She knew he would always be watching her from a distance, so she did her best to climb to the highest point in the starlight.

She wanted him to know that although they could not be together, Ying Jing had always been standing where he could see at a glance.

He hugged her and kissed the woman's exquisite eyebrows over and over again, telling her that this was not a dream.

She knew.

But she was going to find her dream.

If there was an afterlife. Without a forced plot, the path she wanted to take must lead to his side unhindered.

She was like a butterfly who thought she wouldn't sink into the flowers, but in the end, chose to die under them.

She wanted to make him her home.

–

Everyone knew that the legendary movie queen in China, Ying Jing, liked the Lu family's Lu Zishu. She pursued him for ten years without changing her mind. Finally, she watched Lu Zishu marry someone else and commit suicide when she was 30 years old.

Since then, the legend of a generation came to an end.

Everyone sighed.

What a shame.

To end up like this for love.

–

Three years later, Wen Fucheng, the richest man in China, abdicated to his nephew.

He would donate all his wealth to society.

He was forty-three years old when he disappeared.

A year later, a new grave was added to the lonely grave of the deceased movie queen.

One read: Beloved, Ying Jing.

The other was written: Wen Fucheng.

–

When she was young, she met Wen Fucheng and missed out on ten years of her life.

The delicate twenty-year-old girl barged home and pushed open the heavy doors.

Before she could finish the sentence, the man standing in front of the yard looked back at her.

The afternoon sun beat down on him.

It was the warmth that penetrated time that also descended on her heart.

She stared at him blankly.

Ying Jing always remembered that summer. Even the wind that blew over was sweet.

He said his name was Wen Fucheng.

She told all her love to the only person who knew about the past.

And with it, all the past would be buried in time.

–

Ding

The countdown to rebirth began.

Ten

…

Nine

…

Eight

…