Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress - Chapter 175: Trust Issues

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Form, feeling, thought, and awareness, the four truths and five aggregates refine the truth,

Gong Shangjiao Zhengyu, five tones and six rhythms come into the sword.

A liberal arts student crossed over with a pile of Buddhist scriptures and Taoist scriptures,

“Monster, you are predestined with me, why don’t you follow me back to the cave to practice!”

“Master, can I marry a wife if I practice with you?”

“Why don’t you turn left when you go out, there is a school of sword practice over there.”

There is also an old book “Chunyang Sword Master”, which can also be read step by step.

- Description from novelbuddy

This is the story of a graduate student majoring in ancient Chinese who was repeatedly ravaged on the way to employment. He returned to the middle of the Ming Dynasty and entered the body of a young child in a mountain village.

The dull father and the pungent mother, Yishui’s best relatives, have a lot of troubles in the small farmyard. Fortunately, we have thousands of years of historical accumulation, four books, five classics, stereotyped essays, and professional counterparts.

The national power rises vertically and governs;

  Legal discipline is loose, official discipline is lax;

There are a few treacherous ministers, and some Japanese pirates;

But generally speaking, it can be said that this is a fertile ground for the free breeding of scholar-bureaucrats.

A legend of the rise of a poor family grew from here.

I would like to pay tribute to all time-traveling classics with this article.

PS: Rise of the poor family book friend group: 219,803,021; Rise of the poor family full subscription group: 254,292,459 Welcome everyone to join the group and communicate with each other, and welcome everyone to communicate with me.

- Description from novelbuddy

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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