She should have an inherited disease just like her daughter.
Just like myself and Li Lan.
A hand holding a white towel appeared in the line of sight, it was fair, delicate, and indeed small, undoubtedly a child’s hand.
The towel covered the woman’s mouth and nose, and the sensation of suffocation began to intensify.
Then, a face came into view.
Li Zhiyuan was stunned because the face was his own!
The "self" was staring coldly at the woman, and since he was seeing it from the woman’s perspective, it was as if he was looking at his "self".
In an instant, Li Zhiyuan remembered the voice he had heard earlier from outside the window from the girl’s point of view, recalling the strong sense of familiarity in the tone.
Because most of the voice one hears when speaking is different from that played back on a recorder.
He had dark under the lamp, matched that voice with everyone else, but never thought that it could be his own.
However, it indeed matched his usual speaking manner and tone.
the "self" in front of him began to speak:
"You’re dying too slowly, delaying my practice routine."
These words served as a trigger, and as soon as they were uttered, a strong sense of distortion overcame him, and in that moment, his self-awareness began to strip away, plunging him into a vortex of "who am I?".
But this scene was all too familiar to Li Zhiyuan, for every time his illness struck, he would experience this kind of loss of self-awareness, his heart being filled with coldness.
Only previously, this feeling was produced internally, this time it came from the outside world, and in terms of strength, it was much weaker.
Through many sicknesses, he had become his own doctor, and he didn’t need to repeat the names of many, just kept calling Alii, thinking of Alii’s looks, to cope.
Of course, during this time, he also silently mentioned Grandmaster twice.
Then the feeling gradually dissipated.
Indeed, it was a very mild episode, almost as if it ended before he even broke out in a sweat.
The vision turned completely black because the woman had died.
Li Zhiyuan was no longer in contact; he was still squatting in front of the stove, and the woman in the stove was still being burned.
The flames reflected on Li Zhiyuan’s face, causing his complexion to flicker between light and dark.
In fact, Li Zhiyuan’s complexion now was indeed very gloomy.
Because he felt that he had been violated.
He was sure that it wasn’t him who killed the girl and the woman, nor was it the method he taught Zhou Yong.
There was no self-doubt, nor any confusion and internal friction.
He knew that it wasn’t him because it was a trap.
The Feng Shui layout on the stone bridge, the mirage on the dam... this series of tactics, although well-executed, appeared rather amateurish in Li Zhiyuan’s eyes.
Yet, within these amateurish tactics, a pit had been dug.
This feeling was like walking through a thicket; though bothersome, with a stick to stir, it wasn’t too complex or difficult, but unexpectedly, near the endpoint, a landmine was buried.
Disregarding the slim chance that the person behind it all was subject to such a malice, it’s very likely that, after aiding Zhou Yong to set everything up, another more skilled individual intervened and laid a trap.
A trap specifically prepared for peers in the practice.
The person may not be him, but his words might be true, referring to "practice routines."
Coincidentally, Li Zhiyuan himself was also in the midst of his practice phase.
A newcomer entering this path, starting to practice Feng Shui layouts, with a senior figure or teacher beside him, probably did something to the practice work to prevent leaks.
Zhou Yong, selfish and indifferent to the suffering of his wife and daughter, may still be grateful to the person who taught him the method, not realizing that his whole family was nothing but practice material for that person.
Li Zhiyuan slowly raised his head, murmuring:
"Oh, is this how you want to play?"
But in the next moment, his expression changed drastically, the other party clearly couldn’t know the methods from Wei Zhengdao’s Black Book, and wouldn’t be aware that he was retrieving memories, so, the earlier self-identity distortion was not intentionally left to target him.
Was it targeting the woman?
No, not that either, she and her daughter were merely the positions of Chang; their states of existence were entirely sustained by Zhou Yong.
Thus, this trap of identity distortion was aimed at Zhou Yong.
Not good, Run Sheng and Tan Wenbin are in danger!
Li Zhiyuan raised his hand and smacked his own right cheek.
Upon opening his eyes, he saw both Run Sheng and Tan Wenbin still deep in their dreams.
But Zhou Yong had already stood up, leaning over Tan Wenbin’s face, inhaling deeply.
Streams of white breath flowed from Tan Wenbin’s nostrils and mouth, sucked in by Zhou Yong.
Tan Wenbin’s complexion was turning blue from being drained.
Li Zhiyuan’s awakening startled Zhou Yong, who turned his head gradually, at a remarkably slow pace, to look at Li Zhiyuan.
Initially, his eyes were filled with white mucus, but now, the mucus was gone, replaced by a hint of blood red.
The hidden point set up by that person was right here!
The Zhou Yong encountered earlier was indeed the real Zhou Yong, selfish but not maniacal towards others; at least, his selfishness was directed towards his own wife, daughter, and household, not towards the killing of strangers.
Otherwise, he would have already attacked the villagers who saw him, and would not have accepted the terms of "exchange" from Li Zhiyuan.