Ten Thousand Soul Banner: Deceased, do you have any unfulfilled wishes? Chapter 1140 - 1136: My Mother

Luo Yunsong stood in place, dazed and bewildered for a long mont.

The wind from the balcony swept through the fragnted light and shadows, causing his ethereal figure to sway slightly. Finally, as if having made a firm decision, he slowly opened his mouth, his voice dry and rasping: "I want to say goodbye to my mother... The incident happened too suddenly back then, I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to her."

As he finished speaking, tears silently soaked his cheeks, sliding down his phantom contours without leaving a trace, leaving behind only a full heart of bitterness and regret.

"You should think this through."

Shen Siyuan’s voice remained flat, yet it carried a hint of warning, "Aren’t you worried that if she knows the truth, she might be unable to handle it?"

Luo Yunsong, upon hearing this, shook his head without hesitation, with a certain firmness in his eyes regarding his mother: "She won’t."

As if fearing Shen Siyuan wouldn’t believe him, he imdiately explained anxiously: "My mother appears gentle in nature, but in reality, she is most resilient. If she knows I was murdered by soone, she won’t collapse, but instead will try in every possible way to seek justice for . For this belief, she will certainly live well..."

At this point, his tone sank, full of powerlessness and unwillingness: "Moreover, I’ve been deceased for more than twenty years, my bones have probably already decayed into the earth. Even if the police could find my remains, it may not prove Huang Zhaoyuan is the murderer."

The Huang Zhaoyuan he ntioned was the partner who was like a brother to him back then, and the murderer who ended his life with his own hands.

"Moreover, over the years, his business has grown larger and his network has beco more complex. To take him down now might be as difficult as ascending to heaven..."

Luo Yunsong’s voice was full of bitterness, as he had wandered in the Mortal World for more than twenty years, having witnessed the changes in the world, deeply aware of the harshness of reality.

Listening to him, Shen Siyuan’s mouth curved into a faint, enigmatic smile, without replying, rely saying lightly: "Since you desperately wish to see your mother, I shall fulfill your wish."

As soon as the words fell, Shen Siyuan raised his hand, fingers forming a formula, and with a thought, a small-sized flag appeared in his palm.

He waved his hand gently, and an invisible force enveloped Luo Yunsong, steadily capturing his soul into the flag.

Luo Yunsong only felt a blur before his eyes, instantly falling into a dark space.

In just a brief mont, he was sent out of the flag again, falling back to his original place.

Though it was only a brief mont, Luo Yunsong seed to have comprehended much more, his reverence for Shen Siyuan increased.

He bowed deeply to Shen Siyuan, speaking with a respectful tone: "Thank you, Lord Governor, for fulfilling my wish."

"Go ahead." Shen Siyuan waved his hand.

Luo Yunsong bowed again, then his figure gradually beca transparent, transforming into a faint Yin Wind, silently disappearing from the balcony.

Looking in the direction of Luo Yunsong’s disappearance, Shen Siyuan retracted his gaze, took out his phone, found Zhong Xiaonan’s number, and dialed it...

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Sun Huii opened her murky eyes, reaching out to switch the channel on the radio on the table.

The static crackled, either repetitious advertisents or so fragnted, tedious programs that failed to stir any interest.

She couldn’t help but sigh deeply: "These days, even the radio has nothing worth listening to."

Her fingertips gently pressed down, the radio’s sound abruptly stopping, leaving the room instantly restored to silence, so quiet one could hear their own breathing.

She turned her head toward the balcony direction, outside which grew a crooked banyan tree, its branches and leaves especially lush, like a large opened umbrella.

The breeze passed by, leaves rubbing against each other, making a gentle rustling sound, as if soone were whispering softly.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling on the verdant surface, refracting into tiny specks of light.

Sun Huii’s old eyes had long blurred, unable to clearly see such a scene, only feeling a hazy halo before her, yet carrying an indescribable tranquility and lancholy, much like those ordinary afternoons over twenty years ago.

"It’s almost autumn, how’s the weather still so hot?"

She muttered, fanning herself with a hand, slowly rising from the rattan chaise lounge.

The furnishings in the room were simple and tidy, yet she was still unable to sit idle and began to busy herself tidying.

Rearranging the plates of leftover food from lunch.

Picking up a cloth to wipe over the already clean stove.

Moving to the bathroom, pulling the corners of the hanging towel tight, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

Entering the bedroom, taking the neatly folded clothes out of the wardrobe, looking at them briefly, and then carefully putting them back.

She engaged in these trivial, unnecessary tasks, seemingly deliberately trying to make herself appear busy, yet every movent was imbued with an unmistakable loneliness.

This room was so large, large enough to hear her footsteps echo, large enough to compel her to walk circles within it repeatedly, trying to fill the empty ti with busyness.

In the end, she paced around the living room several tis, finally stopping, gently pushing open the door to the side bedroom.

The room’s decor carried a hint of modernity, yet the old movie posters on the walls, the sketchbook and pencils on the desk, the alarm clock on the bedside table long stopped, all remained frozen over twenty years ago.

The old house had long been demolished, yet she couldn’t bear to discard her son’s belongings, carefully packing them away, and after moving to the new ho, she reconstructing the original layout from mory.

She always thought, maybe one day, her son would suddenly walk through the door.

Such a familiar room might allow him to instantly feel the sense of ho upon entering, knowing she has always been here waiting for him.

Sun Huii stood in the center of the room, reaching out her wrinkled hand, gently caressing the sketchbook on the desk, her fingertips brushing across the rough pages as if touching her son’s warm cheek.

Picking up the pencil from the holder, the shaft long worn smooth — the one her son had used most back then.

This small room carried her half-life expectations and contained her entire life.

She opened the bottom drawer of the writing desk, taking out an album with its edges worn.

The album cover was pale blue, its printed patterns faded long ago, yet kept by her clean and intact.

She held the album, walked out of the room, sat back in the rattan chair, put on the reading glasses hanging from her chest, fingers trembling slightly, slowly turning the first page.

The album was thin, with only a few asurable photographs, yet it carried Sun Huii’s lifeti of longing.

Her long-deceased parents...

Childhood playmates, though their nas are lost, leaving only a blurred mory...

Her early departed lover, still handso between the brows...

Her bright-smiling, clear-eyed, spirited son...

Her fingertips lightly touching the photographs, gently caressing her son’s outline, tears gradually welling in her eyes.

The wind blew in from the balcony, gently brushing against her face, like a silent response.