I'm the villain's mother.

Chapter 254 The Past (1)

"painful."

Mu Wanwan pointed to her heart.

"It hurts more here."

Miao trembled at the fingertips that tied the bow for her.

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

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

"Try to be sober." She heard such words in her mouth, and could also hear the unbearable in Miao's tone.

"So are you awake now?"

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

Mu Wanwan looked down at the beautiful bow tied around her wrist.

"I'm here to save you."

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

Miao looked at the little girl's dark eyes that couldn't see a gleam of light: "But I want some light smoke to last, and I can always be by your side." As he spoke, he looked at the torn pages of his notebook. "I can listen to your stories, too."

"I don't have much to tell about my story. It's my limit to write here."

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

"Everyone looked at the daring, cool and tyrannical man in front of him. He was dressed in black, standing in the sky, looking at everyone's eyes, revealing cruelty. Song Zhujun looked up at him, and only had time to say that sentence 'Are you the one who's been sabotaging behind your back?'”

After reading it, Miao didn't say 'what kind of shit is this' like her father did.

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

"Because I can't imagine how a murderous villain would speak. So I probably won't write any more after I write this." After a long pause, he said again: "Writing these things in the past can make me feel I'm happy, but I won't anymore. I just think that maybe my father is right, writing these things is meaningless to me now."

"So you burned it?" Miao asked softly.

"With a fire, burn it clean, and you will be able to remember the lesson in the future."

Miao only felt heartache: "Have you ever thought that every person you describe is real. You created them, but you didn't give them a decent answer. If it is serious, the small world may collapse , developing in an unpredictable direction.”

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

Miao was taken aback for a moment, then laughed softly: "Yes, you are still young. I like your story very much, and I hope you can keep writing it."

"why?"

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

Mu Wanwan wanted to ask more questions, but Miao was nowhere to be seen when she looked up.

It was also at this time that she strangely discovered that her control over her body had returned.

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

She was about ten years old, wearing baggy clothes that didn't fit her well.

She opened her mouth and smiled, and couldn't help saying: "It's really ugly."

She took a few steps forward and slowly sat on the bed. Perhaps because of the staleness, the bed let out a whimper.

She felt very at ease.

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

After an unknown amount of time, she opened her eyes.

"You go and ask your dad to come back for dinner." Mu Wanwan raised her eyes and looked at her mother who had a bad face.

I got up and walked out awkwardly. It was winter, there were no street lights on the road, and it was dark and cold.After turning an intersection, the barking sound of the dog exploded in her ears, as if it was about to rush out of the yard at any time and swallow her up.

After finally reaching the place, she knocked on the door, and there were many middle-aged men of different shapes sitting inside.

"Eight barrels!"

"Nine!"

The sound of mahjong being slapped on the table was a little softer than the dog barking just now.

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

She didn't like it, very much.

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

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

While smoking the cigarette in his mouth, the man smiled and said, "Nine cakes!"

Then she looked at Mu Wanwan beside her legs: "Go back and tell your mother, I'll be back in a while."

Mu Wanwan sat obediently by the side. After an unknown amount of time, she opened her eyes again, and she was already home.

Then came the sound of parents arguing.

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

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

"."

Mu Wanwan shivered and wrapped herself in the quilt, and fell asleep in fear,
After finally falling asleep, she was awakened by the sound of the door slamming, and her mother crawled into her bed in the cold.

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

"Don't worry about it so much."

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

This depressive time lasted for three years, and one day, Mu Wanwan met Miao who claimed to be the consul of the wasteland at that time.

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

"What are you thinking again?"

The sudden sound startled 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 to write the story." Mu Wanwan handed the tattered notebook in her hand to Miao.

Miao slowly put away the utility knife before taking Mu Wanwan's notebook with both hands.

"Feng Yuan lay dying on the ground, unwilling.

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

'So brother, what if I bet my life? '

The smile on the corner of Feng Yuan's mouth disappeared for a moment.

'Are you willing? '

'But one death. 'Xiao Fengyuan's voice was very determined. "

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, so she could only sigh.

"If they were standing in front of you alive, would you still have this idea?"

Mu Wanwan was silent.

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

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

"As long as the desire is strong enough, there will be."

Mu Wanwan suddenly smiled: "It's okay, this story hasn't come to an end yet, everything can still be saved."

Since then, Mu Wanwan has been dreaming, and every time she dreams, she will repeatedly dream of the villain in her own writing——

Feng Yuan.

From being young and ignorant to growing up as a teenager, she has not been absent for a moment.

When she grew up to the age of 17, Mu Wanwan also worshiped Feng Yuan's master as her teacher.

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

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(End of this chapter)