Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
The osmanthus in the living room was blooming abnormally.
In the height of summer during June, its branches were heavy with flowers. With the windows closed, the fragrance became so intense it was dizzying. One night, he accidentally knocked over the pot when getting up, yet by the next day, the plant remained lush and vibrant, brimming with an unusually vigorous vitality.
After Chu Mingyi left, only Song Si and these peculiar plants remained in the house.
Song Si sat before the osmanthus, his memories slowly being restored along with the blood he had lost.
Following the original owner’s method, he mixed the special medicine from "Ninghai Pharmaceuticals" into the water used to water the plant before pouring it directly onto the roots.
He hadn’t measured the dosage properly—accidentally adding too much. By the next day, the osmanthus had shed all its flowers and its leaves turning yellow. The trunk drooped listlessly, and a layer of mold had even grown in the soil, as though the plant had withered and decayed for three months.
Liu Cenning truly was a genius, Song Si thought as he observed the dying osmanthus. A pity he was a genius who had strayed down the wrong path.
Originally just an ordinary man, Liu Cenning had graduated from a prestigious university and worked as a junior employee at a pharmaceutical company. By chance, he came into contact with the Special Investigation Bureau’s work and conceived the idea of combining Ability particles with medicine. Secretly conducting forbidden experiments in the company’s lab, he packaged the preliminary results as a new patented invention, using it to build his fortune and establish Ninghai Pharmaceuticals. Over a decade, he wove the largest scientific fraud in the medical field, leading to the worsening conditions of tens of thousands of patients.
The experiments required vast amounts of Ability-related materials. Though he had no prior connection to the Special Investigation Bureau, after his arrest, he refused to disclose the source of the Ability particles. Suspecting collusion between Liu Cenning and someone within the Bureau, higher-ups ordered a thorough investigation—one that was assigned to the Third Division.
But on the very night Liu Cenning was arrested, Ninghai Pharmaceuticals’ central headquarters went up in flames, reducing all experimental data to ashes.
Song Si could guess Chu Mingyi’s investigative approach—interrogating Liu Cenning, tracing Ninghai Pharmaceuticals’ network of illicit transactions, and even covertly investigating all Bureau personnel with suspicious income sources.
But Chief Chu was destined to find nothing, because "Song Si" and Liu Cenning had never had any financial dealings. When Liu Cenning built his empire, Song Si had been only thirteen—on the surface, they were two parallel lines that would never intersect.
If "Song Si" hadn’t taken his own life, perhaps no one would ever have discovered who stood behind Liu Cenning.
And if "Song Si" hadn’t died, Fu Xi wouldn’t have been inspired to reverse-engineer a therapeutic game called Tomorrow, designed to heal those suffering from psychological trauma.
Gazing at the withered osmanthus, Song Si propped his chin on his hand.
The bad things hadn’t happened. The good thing was that he had returned to this body, retaining all his memories.
His thoughts gradually clarified. He picked up the dead osmanthus pot, carried it downstairs, and tossed it into the trash. Then, shouldering a small hoe, he continued tidying up the wildly overgrown courtyard.
Chu Mingyi had left him at the clinic for three days. Song Si prescribed his own medicine and took it without urgency, spending his free time sleeping and gardening.
Using his uninjured left hand to pull weeds, and by afternoon, he dragged a chair to the balcony, chose a good spot, and covered his eyes with a sleep mask for a nap.
Too many chaotic plotlines, and his past-life memories still hadn’t returned. Rebirth wasn’t easy—might as well enjoy life while he could.
Song Si crossed his legs comfortably and lulled by the gentle breeze into a deep slumber that lasted until evening. When he woke up and was stretching lazily, he heard the doorbell ringing downstairs.
The ringing was polite yet persistent. Song Si slipped on his shoes, ruffled his messy hair, and stepped into the yard.
Beyond the main gate was an iron fence, where a tall woman stood by the doorbell and clutching a bouquet of red roses in her arms.
The sky darkened, with the streetlights not yet lit. Against the gray-toned street, the roses burned like flickering flames, their vividness striking his retinas. Song Si’s gaze lingered on the flowers for a second before shifting to the woman’s face, his brow furrowing slightly.
Eight-centimeter heels, a gray dress, with her back ramrod straight—the lower half of her face beneath the sunglasses was expressionless, like an artificial AI.
Song Si took a few more steps forward when he suddenly sensed an indescribable ripple.
As if the surrounding air were a pool of water, disturbed by an unseen hand.
He abruptly stopped.
Seeing him halt, the woman curled her lips and spoke in a husky, gentle voice, "Dr. Song, long time no see. Do you remember me?"
A chill of killing intent.
Song Si stood rooted to the spot. Something unfurled in his mind, muddying his consciousness. He heard himself reply in an odd tone, "No, I don’t. Who are you?"
The woman held the bouquet, her smile unchanging. "I was your patient. Won’t you invite me in for a chat?"
Had there been a mirror, Song Si would have seen his pupils slit vertically like a beast’s.
His fingertips trembled slightly as his body greedily absorbed the energy fluctuations around the woman, yet his negative emotions spiraled wildly out of control.
His brain no longer felt like his own, and the world reflected in his eyes twisted and morphed. With the woman as the center, her physical features—her face, her figure—faded, replaced by a spectrum of shifting hues. He saw her brain as blue-gray, her lips orange-gray, her heart pink-gray, her limbs pale purple… Her entire body radiated an unhealthy gray, except for a bright red glow in her throat, as if something writhed inside.
Staring at her neck, Song Si spoke almost instinctively, "Your throat is severely diseased. It’s beyond treatment. Please leave."
The woman lightly touched her own throat.
"Beyond treatment," she murmured, tightening her grip on the flowers. "You’re absolutely right. You truly are a renowned doctor."
The air grew thicker. Song Si took half a step back.
An unseen mouth opened, and the air erupted into a tsunami, as a thousand-meter wave crashing down, shaking loose the seductive rose petals and surging straight for Song Si’s heart. Every cell in his body vibrated at an unknown frequency and his eardrums screaming—
A muffled thud cut through the chaos. A figure rushed forward, shielding him from the woman. All energy fluctuations vanished instantly, plunging the surroundings into dead silence—not even the chirp of insects remained.
Gasping for breath and his ears ringing, Song Si saw Chu Mingyi gripping the woman’s throat with one hand, lifting her and slamming her against the iron gate.
A bullet tore through her left shoulder, blood splattering into the courtyard.
Someone wailed in a tearful voice, "Si-Si—are you okay?!"
A vein bulged on Chu Mingyi’s forehead. "Shut up," he snapped. "Quiet."
The woman he lifted had her mouth wide open, her neck writhing unnaturally in his grip and limbs convulsing grotesquely as blood seeping from the corners of her lips.
Chu Mingyi frowned deeply and deliver a swift chop to her neck to knock her unconscious before releasing his hold. He hoisted her over his shoulder and tossed her into the car parked around the corner.
"She can emit Infrasound. Take her to the Shielded Room for interrogation," Chu Mingyi said. "Send her now—the sooner, the better. I'll be right back."
Song Si still stood on the gravel path, unmoving, his voice hoarse as he murmured, "She's dying."
His voice was faint, barely audible, likely due to the aftereffects of the attack. Yet someone in the car heard him and protested, "Ming-ge, Si-si says she's about to die!"
Another voice chimed in, "...Then shouldn't we send her to the hospital? Ah, if she dies, it won't be pinned on our Third Division, right? We didn’t bring the body cam today!"
"What hospital?" someone else retorted. "Isn’t this a clinic?"
Chu Mingyi, standing outside the car, bent down to check her breathing. When he straightened up again, his expression darkened, and he cursed under his breath. He hauled the woman out like a ragdoll and strode into the clinic with her in his arms.
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