Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
Song Si took the ring from his hand, but no memories were triggered. His mind remained blank about the person before him.
Still, running into his so-called fiancé with green hair was undeniably... stimulating. Song Si had the sudden urge to take a deep breath.
Chu Mingxiao, however, seemed unfazed. He spoke naturally, "Come on, change your clothes and let’s go get some sun in the garden."
Unsure how to interact with him, Song Si quickly changed into fresh clothes and hastily dried his hair, which still reeked of hair dye. As he prepared to put the ring back on, he hesitated before lifting the small object to examine it closely.
The ring had clearly been worn for a long time—scratches marred both its surface and inner band, especially the latter. The marks were chaotic and aggressive, as if deliberately carved by its previous owner, even partially obscuring the engraved letters "CMX."
Frowning, Song Si slid the ring back onto his ring finger, still unaccustomed to its weight.
Chu Mingxiao remained seated in his wheelchair, patiently waiting for Song Si to finish changing. When Song Si’s hand rested on the chair’s backrest, his gaze involuntarily drifted to Chu Mingxiao’s legs.
They appeared perfectly normal—no muscle atrophy, every part intact and in place.
He averted his eyes after only a glance, but in doing so, he accidentally met Chu Mingxiao’s gaze.
Eyes nearly identical to Chu Mingyi’s, yet devoid of sharpness—deep, dark, and unfathomable. Song Si felt as if he’d stepped into empty air, his heart lurching violently and blood rushing in his ears.
But Chu Mingxiao only smiled gently. "The new hair color is... distinctive."
Song Si forced an awkward smile. "It looks... lively."
Chu Mingxiao covered his mouth with a fist, coughing lightly to suppress a laugh.
Only then did Song Si’s racing heart begin to settle. He discreetly studied Chu Mingxiao’s face before asking, "My memory’s a bit faulty. How should I address you?"
Chu Mingxiao didn’t seem surprised. "Mingyi mentioned it. Normally, you call me... well, it depends on your mood. When angry, it’s ‘Hey,’ ‘Old Man,’ or ‘Grandpa.’ On average days, it’s ‘Chu Mingxiao.’ When you’re in a good mood, it’s ‘Brother Xiao.’"
Song Si decisively chose the safest option. "Brother Xiao."
Chu Mingxiao’s lips curved, clearly pleased with the choice.
The TV in the bedroom was still on, the news anchor continuing coverage of last night’s airport "kidnapping incident": "Fortunately, there were no casualties. Some passengers exposed to the Hypnotic Agent experienced temporary memory loss but have since recovered under medical treatment..."
Chu Mingxiao’s attention shifted slightly toward the screen. Worried he might ask for details, Song Si turned off the TV and pushed the wheelchair toward the garden.
But the man in the wheelchair asked nothing. Instead, he said, "Yesterday, Mingyi messaged me. He said you’d forgotten everything, that your personality had changed, and that you had some unrealistic, strange ideas. He insisted I come home immediately to check on you. Xiao Si... are you alright?"
Song Si said, "As you can see, things aren't great. If you didn't look so much like Chu Mingyi, I might have mistaken you for a home intruder."
Chu Mingxiao asked, "You don't remember anything at all?"
Song Si shook his head. "Not a single thing."
"Alright," Chu Mingxiao nodded. Compared to Chu Mingyi, his elder brother's temperament was clearly much better. "No matter. Missions always come with unexpected incidents. Let me briefly explain our relationship. If you're not opposed in your current state, I can perform a treatment for you."
Song Si unlocked the front door and ushered him into the garden, waiting for him to continue.
"My legs were injured during a mission six years ago. The target at the time was a disabled person with a superpower similar to Word Spirit. He cursed me to become like him, forever unable to rise from this wheelchair. So I lost the ability to walk," Chu Mingxiao spoke matter-of-factly. "Your Twin Butterflies feed on Exotic Energy. To dilute the curse on these legs, you moved in with me and signed an eight-year marriage contract with me."
Between treating his legs and signing a marriage contract—how did that make any logical sense?
Seeing that Chu Mingxiao didn't plan to elaborate, Song Si asked, "Have we known each other for long?"
"You're twenty-six this year. We've known each other for twenty years," Chu Mingxiao replied. "I was your mentor in university."
Song Si was surprised. "Twenty years..."
Chu Mingxiao turned his head and smiled at him. "You were the one who proposed the marriage contract."
Song Si instantly conjured up a novel in his mind.
There was nearly a twenty-year age gap between them, and they had once been teacher and student. Later, after some accident left the teacher in distress, the student disregarded societal norms to insist on signing a marriage contract, treating his legs day after day for six years... How did this plot sound like a romance novel?? Even romance novels didn't write such angsty tropes anymore, did they?
He couldn't find a way to relate, unsure how to play this role, and fell silent for a moment.
Chu Mingxiao didn't dwell on these old stories and instead asked, "After losing your memory, has your cognition been affected too?"
Song Si maintained a guarded attitude toward him and didn't mention the novel idea, only saying, "There are some confusing thoughts."
Chu Mingxiao lightly patted the back of his hand, signaling him to stop. Song Si paused, and Chu Mingxiao turned his wheelchair to face him directly.
One standing, one sitting—Song Si's shadow enveloped Chu Mingxiao. For a fleeting moment, the shadow seemed to shift. Song Si frowned, but when he looked again, everything was normal.
"I can take a look for you," Chu Mingxiao's voice carried a soothing charm. "If you're concerned about privacy, I can turn away."
Song Si remained wary and sat down on a stone bench, level with Chu Mingxiao.
"How do we do this?"
Chu Mingxiao turned his wheelchair halfway around, his back to Song Si.
"It's simple," Chu Mingxiao said. "First, relax. Then, close your eyes and focus on the first image that appears in your mind."
Song Si studied his fiancé's back, half-convinced, and tentatively followed his instructions, closing his eyes.
The first image...
An unbelievable scene abruptly materialized before him!
He had clearly closed his eyes... No, he reached up to touch his eyelids and realized that though he had shut them just a second ago, they had somehow opened again without him noticing. The sunlight around him remained bright, the garden still lush with blooming flowers, and Chu Mingxiao sat a few meters away, quietly turned with his back to him.
Between him and Chu Mingxiao stood Tian Li, who should have been working at the Special Investigation Bureau!
This Tian Li was dressed in a filthy, tattered combat suit, covered in wounds, and blood streaming from her temple down to her chin. She seemed barely able to stand while gripping a long spear thrust into the soft garden soil to prop herself up. Her usually bright and clear eyes were clouded with madness as she stared directly at Song Si, who was mere steps away. Gasping for breath, she let out a desperate plea from deep in her throat: "Save... me..."
"No," Song Si abruptly stood up from his chair, resolute. "This is an illusion."
He reached out to touch Tian Li's face before him, and something incomprehensible happened—his fingers met warm, solid skin!
In that instant, a bullet from nowhere struck her forehead. Warm blood splattered across Song Si's face as the light faded from those beautiful almond-shaped eyes. Tian Li remained propped up by her spear, her head slumping weakly forward.
Song Si began trembling uncontrollably, his vision stained red. Amid the chaos, he heard another familiar voice. Slowly turning his head, he saw Lin Zheng, with his own left hand gripping Lin Zheng's throat in a deathly chokehold. Lin Zheng's face was flushed crimson and veins bulging on his forehead as he gasped hoarsely for help, his tear-filled eyes locked onto Song Si in desperation.
Song Si staggered back two steps, his pulse pounding in his ears like thunder. Another familiar cry for help came from behind him, but he dared not turn around. He knew what it was—the final fate written for all his colleagues in the novel!
A gentle voice cut through the eerie and horrifying scenes, reaching straight into Song Si's mind: "Relax."
A shiver ran down Song Si's spine. Starting from that word—"relax"—the surroundings began rewinding. The bullet withdrew from Tian Li's forehead, her tattered combat suit became pristine again, her bleeding wounds healed, and the light returned to her eyes as she flashed Song Si an innocent, proud smile, tossing her spear playfully before catching it: "How'd I do today, Si-ge?"
Beside them, Lin Zheng had his thick gloves back on, bickering with his own left hand while awkwardly explaining to Song Si, "It's been a bit disobedient lately."
Song Si wiped at the blood on his face—only to find the warm splatters replaced by hot tears. Exhausted yet relieved, he collapsed back into the stone chair, unable to regain his composure for a long while.
Someone gently wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.
Song Si's vision slowly focused.
The tangible hallucinations had vanished. Chu Mingxiao softly brushed away his tears and asked in a low voice, "Feeling better?"
After a moment of silence, Song Si realized his entire body felt lighter, as if the darkest parts of his heart had been poured out and left to bake under the scorching sun.
He exhaled, wiping his face. "...Much better."
"That is your obsession, the thing you fear most in your heart," Chu Mingxiao said unhurriedly. "The absence of memory throws the brain into chaos, materializing those illusions and making you believe they're real. But remember, false things will always remain false. The one who deceives you most is always yourself."
Song Si narrowed his eyes, looking up at the bright sky above without speaking.
Was everything in the novel just a lie of memory?
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