I'm the villain's own mother

Chapter 254 The Past (1)

"It hurts."

Mu Wanwan pointed at her heart.

"It hurts more here."

Miao's fingertips trembling as she tied the bow for her.

Mu Wanwan seemed to lower her eyebrows as she looked at him.

"Since you know it hurts, why do you do this?"

"Try to wake up." She heard these words coming from her own mouth, and could also hear the unbearable tone in Miao's tone.

"So are you awake now?"

"Sober up, know clearly that no one in this world will love me, and no one can come to save me."

Mu Wanwan lowered her head and looked at the beautifully tied bow on her wrist.

"I'm here to save you."

Mu Wanwan looked at the person in front of her who was as light as mist: "You are lighter than the smoke my father breathed into his lungs, how can you save me?"

Miao looked at the little girl's dark eyes that could not reveal any light: "But I will make some light smoke last long so that I can stay with you all the time." As he said that, he looked at the burned pages of the notebook. "Me too.

I can listen to your story."

"There is nothing much to tell about my story. Writing it here is already my limit."

Miao reached out to pick up the notebook and saw the last page.

"Everyone looked at the cool and domineering man in front of them. He was wearing black clothes and standing in the sky. He looked at everyone with cruel eyes. Song Zhujun looked up at him and only had time to say that sentence

'Are you the one who has been sabotaging me behind the scenes?'"

After Miao finished reading, he did not say, "What kind of crap is this" like his father did.

Instead, he laughed out loud: "I think it was pretty good, but why didn't I write it again?"

"Because I can't imagine how a murderous villain can speak. So I probably won't write anymore after writing this." After he paused for a long time, he said again: "In the past, writing these things could make me feel

I'm happy, but I won't be anymore. I just think maybe my father is right. Writing these things is meaningless to me now."

"So you burned it?" Miao asked softly.

"If you burn it with a fire, you will be able to remember the lesson in the future."

Miao only felt heartbroken: "Have you ever thought that every person you describe actually exists. You created them, but you didn't give them a decent answer. If it's serious, the small world may collapse.

, and it continues to develop in an unpredictable direction."

Mu Wanwan shook her head: "I don't understand."

Miao was stunned for a moment, then laughed softly: "Yes, you are still young. I like your stories very much, and I hope you can keep writing them."

"Why?"

Miao's figure became erratic: "Because, the people in your story need you."

Mu Wanwan wanted to ask something more, but when she raised her head, the figure disappeared.

It was also at this time that she strangely found that control of her body was back.

She turned around slowly, and her figure slowly appeared in the mirror.

He looked about ten years old and was wearing loose clothes that didn't fit him.

She opened her mouth and smiled, and couldn't help but say: "The smile is really ugly."

She took a few steps forward and slowly sat on the bed. Perhaps because it was old, the bed made a whimpering sound.

But she felt very at ease.

The sunlight outside the window filtered through the numerous green leaves, casting a soft light. Mu Wanwan closed her eyes and enjoyed a moment of leisure.

I don't know how long it took before she opened her eyes.

"Go and ask your dad to come back for dinner." Mu Wanwan raised her eyes and looked at her mother, who looked unhappy.

She got up and walked out awkwardly. It was winter, there were no street lights on the road, it was dark and freezing. After turning a corner, the sound of dogs barking loudly in her ears seemed to be ready to rush out of the yard at any time and devour her.

.

Finally arriving at the place, she knocked on the door and found many middle-aged men of various shapes sitting inside.

"Eight tubes!"

"Kujo!"

The sound of mahjong hitting the table was a little quieter than the barking of the dog just now.

The pervasive smell of tobacco made people feel sick, and she felt groggy as soon as she entered.

She doesn't like it, she doesn't like it very much.

But she could only walk over and slowly grab the man's clothes.

"Dad, Mom wants you to go home for dinner."

The man smoked the cigarette in his mouth and said with a smile: "Nine cakes!"

Then he looked at Mu Wanwan next to his legs: "Go back and tell your mother, I'll be back soon."

Mu Wanwan sat aside obediently. She didn't know how long it had passed, but when she opened her eyes again, she was already home.

Then there were the sounds of father and mother quarreling.

"Mahjong is better than home, what are you doing here?"

"If I don't come back, ask your daughter to call me!"

"."

Mu Wanwan shivered and wrapped herself in a quilt, falling asleep in fear.

After finally falling asleep, I was woken up by the sound of the door slamming, and my mother got into her bed with the cold air.

"Mom, can you please stop arguing with dad?" Mu Wanwan muttered.

"Don't worry so much."

Mu Wanwan heard some angry voices, but in the end she didn't dare to speak.

This depressing time lasted for three years. One day, Mu Wanwan met Miao, who claimed to be the Archon of the Wasteland at that time.

At that time, she was looking at the utility knife on the table in trance.

"What are you thinking about again?"

The sudden sound frightened Mu Wanwan, and the utility knife in her hand fell to the ground.

"At that time, you said that the people in my story needed me, so I continued the story." As she said that, Mu Wanwan handed the tattered notebook in her hand to Miao.

Miao slowly put away the utility knife, and then took Mu Wanwan's notebook with both hands.

"Feng Yuan was lying on the ground dying, with reluctance.

'Xiao Fengyu, you can't kill me. Even if I'm like this now, you can't kill me.'

'Then, senior brother, what if I risk my life?'

The smile on Feng Yuan's lips disappeared for an instant.

'Are you willing to do so?'

‘It’s just a matter of death.’ Xiao Fengyuan spoke with great determination in his voice.”

Mu Wanwan looked at herself, the only audience, with a cold face.

"How about it?"

Miao pondered for a moment: "Do you want them all to die?"

Mu Wanwan looked calm: "Yes, it's best not to live."

Miao didn't know what to say and could only sigh.

"If they were standing in front of you alive, would you still have such thoughts?"

Mu Wanwan fell silent.

"In the wilderness, every book is a world. People in the world live like us through the convenience provided by the wilderness."

"Then will I also have my own world?" Mu Wanwan said hesitantly.

"As long as the desire is strong enough, it will happen."

Mu Wanwan suddenly smiled: "It doesn't matter, this story is not at the end yet, everything can still be saved."

From then on, Mu Wanwan started to dream. In every dream, she would dream about the villain in her novel——

Fengyuan.

From childhood and ignorance to adulthood, she has never been absent for a moment.

When Mu Wanwan successfully grew up to the age of seventeen, she also became a disciple of Fengyuan's master.

Everything is so real, and everything started from that time.

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(End of chapter)