You’re A Liar

Ling Song laid beneath the blanket, perking up his ear to listen to the movements outside the door.

His heart pounded, abnormally distinct in the dark. 

He crept out of bed stealthily, groping the desk with great effort, and turned the lamp on.  

The moment the light turned on, Ling Song subconsciously swallowed. He reached over and cautiously touched the light bulb. The slightly hot touch startled him and he hurriedly withdrew his hand, rubbing his fingers. 

Everything here was unimaginable to him. 

He came to this place five days ago.

The burning pain from the poisoned alcohol remained in his throat. When he opened his eyes again, he had already appeared in this grotesque and mysterious world.

Although the way they dressed completely changed, talked weirdly and even forgot who he was, Ling Song never once thought that he would be able to see his father the emperor, empress mother, and his brother the crowned prince again. 

‘If they’re not going crazy that means I’m going crazy’ Ling Song thought.

For the past five days, he had carefully observed the words and actions of the people around him. He quietly noted down the usage of strange things he had never seen before. No matter how shocked and timid he was, he tried to keep his face calm so no one could see through him. 

He had been an emperor for five years. His ability to pretend was about 70 to 80 percent, which was barely sufficient. 

Sighing deeply, Ling Song made use of the little light in the room to look around.

This room was not nearly as gloriously splendid with gold and jade as his former bed chamber had been. But there were no lights that could be turned on with a press of a button in his bed chamber, especially the one above his head, which was brighter than the luminous pearl. It was indeed strange. 

There were more things that he didn’t recognise in this room. 

But these weren’t the most important.

Ling Song’s vision landed on the bookshelf at the corner of the room. He walked over and glanced through from top to bottom.

The characters used were not the same from what he knew, but not quite different. With guessing, the meaning could be roughly understood. But the contents of the books were…

Randomly grabbing a book titled ‘History of Time’, Ling Song flipped over two pages and expressionlessly placed it back into the bookshelf.

Finally, he looked at the last row of the bookshelf and saw exactly 12 volumes of books regarding China’s History.

After pausing on ‘The General History of China – Cheng’ for two seconds, he pulled out these two volumes. 

The printed texts here were arranged horizontally from left to right. Ling Song wasn’t used to them, but now was not the time to be concerned with it. 

The first volume was about the first few generations of the Cheng dynasty. Ling Song roughly flipped through it; the details were somewhat different from what he knew, but it generally didn’t have any problems. 

He picked up the second volume, turning to the end, and finally saw the records of himself, the Yong’an Emperor. 

It turned out that he was the king of a subjugated country. 

After his death, the regent slaughtered and almost wiped out the entire Ling lineage. 

In the end, the rebels attacked the capital and surrounded the imperial palace. Holding his imperial sword, the regent walked up to the palace gate tower alone and was pierced to death by a thousand arrows through his heart. 

Ling Song inhaled, he didn’t know whether to say if he or that regent was more miserable.

After being in a daze for a few seconds, he picked out the history book from the back and continued reading.

Apparently this wasn’t a different world, but a world which was 400 years away from his era.

This place didn’t have emperors, only governments.

Everything had turned upside down. 

More than 400 years had passed quickly. 

The former Yong’an emperor had become a figure not worth mentioning in history books, completely covered up by the dust of history. 

Ling Song shrank under the bookshelf and fell asleep with books scattered around him. 

In his muddled dream, he dreamt of those pair of eyes that were always sharp and ice-cold, frightening him to retreat again and again, but he couldn’t move. 

He opened his eyes abruptly, and the sky was bright. 

The sunlight outside the window spilled in through the open curtains. The things in his dreams were simply just dreams. 

Ling Song got up and twisted his sore neck, finding himself hot and sticky with sweat. 

A knock on the door sounded, his brother’s voice calling, “Xiao Song, are you up? I’m coming in.” 

Not waiting for Ling Song’s response, the door pushed open from outside.

Ling Jie entered and laughed as he looked at Ling Song, “Why are you sleeping on the floor? You’re actually reading?”

Ling Song scratched his face, feeling a little embarrassed and not knowing what to say. 

Ling Jie walked over, rubbing his head, “Go take a shower quickly, mom asked me to wake you up for breakfast.”

Ling Song carelessly nodded his head, “Okay.”

After walking into the bathroom and closing the door, he calmly took off his clothes and turned on the shower. 

Apart from everything else, these strange and good things were really good. The lives of the people here were not worse than his was as an emperor. 

Everything in those years was just a nightmare. After 400 years, he never wanted to return.  

When he headed downstairs after washing up, the whole family was waiting for him at the table. 

His emperor father, empress mother, his brother the crowned prince, his sister-in-law the crowned princess, and his imperial nephew were all there. 

He had accepted the fact that he came to the world 400 years later. Ling Song suddenly thought that God had treated him well, not only letting him live again, but also returning all his family to him. 

Even if they didn’t remember the past. 

But if they didn’t remember, it’s good too. 

Mother Ling looked at her own son with worry, “Xiao Song, does your head still hurt? Can you remember anything?”

Ling Song felt guilty and could only smile in response.

He didn’t know what the previous Ling Song was like, so he could only say he couldn’t remember anything. Fortunately, his family didn’t suspect him.

Father Ling interrupted mother Ling’s concerning questions, “He will slowly be able to remember, don’t force him too much.”

Ling Song comforted his mother as well, “The doctor said it’s temporary. Mom, don’t worry so much, I’m fine.”

His sister-in-law smiled happily as she gave Ling Song some dishes, asking him to eat more and saying that his face had become so thin that it almost disappeared from falling sick. 

His little nephew placed his unwanted egg into Ling Song’s bowl, pulling a funny face, “ Xiaoshu1 is stupid, only idiots fall into the water.”

Ling Song lowered his head, not allowing anyone to see his slightly reddened eyes.

After going back to his room, Ling Song continued the unfinished history book from last night.

Ling Jie headed up to Ling Song’s room and reminded him, “It’s Monday tomorrow, you have to go back to school. Remember to pack your bag.”

Ling Song blinked blankly, go to school to…… to study?

Looking at his dumbfounded expression, Ling Jie asks jokingly, “Do you really not remember anything? You’re not purposely saying this just because you don’t want to go to school are you?”

Ling Song calmly answered, “I really can’t remember anything.”

“Alright, remember or not, you still have to go to school tomorrow.”

After Ling Jie left, Ling Song finally understood his current identity. He was a student, he needed to study.

Studying wasn’t hard, in his previous life as an emperor, he had to study with his Taifu2 daily. 

But the thing was, what do the students here learn?

Ling Song poured out all the books in his bag and looked through them one by one.

In the end, he stared straight ahead in fright, sat on the floor and started to think, would it be useful if he confessed his true identity now?

Just forget it……

The wind outside the window caused the curtains to rustle. Ling Song collected his thoughts, wiped his face and got up to close the window. 

He had seen his mom close the window before and tried, it was quite easy.

Accidentally lifting his gaze, he noticed someone sitting at a desk and reading a book on the second floor of the opposite building.

His side profile was only shown from far away, Ling Song couldn’t see him clearly.

With a glance, Ling Song quickly closed the window and drew the curtains. 

He patted his chest, still recovering from shock.

He thought he almost saw that person.

Pei! That person was already buried underground with his bones turned to slag!

Monday morning.

Ling Jie drove Ling Song and his son to school.

Ling Song was a 17 year old in his sophomore year, while his nephew was 10 in his fourth year of primary school.

Their schools are only one street apart. 

Ling Song sat in the car, and thought that these objects were absolutely magical; he could travel without a horse, and still be able to move very fast. He felt excited as soon as he sat down. 

Although he didn’t dare to express it so obviously.

He was wearing a neat grey and blue school uniform, with a haircut not passing his ears. 

Before leaving the house, he stared at the frighteningly clear mirror for a long time. His appearance looked exactly the same as before, it’s just this dressing style…

If it’s ugly, then it’s ugly. 

It’s how everyone was like here anyway. 

At least it’s convenient. 

After the car started, someone from the yard next door came out, riding a type of two-wheeled car and flying past them.

Ling Song only saw the person’s back.

The person was wearing the same uniform as him, blowing back by the wind.

Impressive. 

Ling Song thought that if he had a chance in the future, he should try that as well. 

They dropped off the little nephew first. After reaching Ling Song’s school, Ling Jie accompanied him inside to meet his head teacher. 

 A few days ago, Ling Song fell into the lake at the back of the school but was fortunately saved in time, and did not suffer any serious illness after being sent to the hospital.

But he had lost his memory.

Even the doctors could not provide a reason, only telling his family to pay more attention and observe closely. 

Ling Jie explained Ling Song’s situation to the head teacher, Ma Guosheng. The head teacher had a very good attitude and repeatedly told him that he would look after Ling Song and for his parents to rest assured. 

As the head teacher, he was embarrassed that something happened to a student at school, and yet the parents did not hold the school responsible at all.

Even if Ling Song was a troublesome student, he didn’t care.

Ling Song stared at the head teacher in a daze.

Ma, Ma Taifu…?

Ma Taifu, who had advised him earnestly that day and urged him to seize the power of the regent in his previous life, had become his head teacher in this life?

His gaze fell onto the head teacher’s shiny head, remaining silent. 

In his previous life, Taifu used to worry about his hair approaching a crisis. In this life, he was afraid that it still remained so…

After Ling Jie left, Ma Guosheng asked Ling Song about his condition in detail. Ling Song’s mind wandered out the sky, ignorant towards all the questions. Ma Guosheng had no choice but to give up. 

When the school bell rang, he led Ling Song back to the classroom

Ling Song did not go to school for a week, so as soon as he walked in, many students casted a glance at him.

But because the head teacher came in with him, no one dared to say a word and they all picked up their books. 

Ma Guosheng patted his shoulder and reminded him, “Your seat is over there, go and sit down.”

Ling Song walked to the last row towards the left corner of the classroom, towards the only vacant seat left in the whole class. 

His deskmate’s head was lowered, his eyes downcast and his arm covered his face, appearing to be dozing off.

An inexplicable strange feeling surged in his heart. Ling Song thought, the teacher is here, yet this person had no response? 

How ridiculous. 

He approached slowly. The person lifted his gaze, and the pair of fierce, cold eyes from Ling Song’s nightmare looked towards him. 

Ling Song’s footsteps paused, his heartbeat suddenly reaching his throat. 

The moment he reacted, Ling Song had already turned his body with one leg lifted in an attempt to run.

Standing on the podium, Ma Guosheng asked with his eyebrows raised, “Ling Song, what are you doing? Sit down quickly.”

Ling Song broke out in a cold sweat and stood rigidly; not leaving, not staying. 

……He, he had lived to see a ghost.

Footnotes 

Xiaoshu: youngest uncle Taifu: teacher in the imperial palace