My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy!
Chapter 105 - 91 Candlelight

Chapter 105: Chapter 91 Candlelight

Meng Lang took out his phone and opened his own 12306 app.

As a "train ticket anxiety sufferer" who had experienced the intense competition for train tickets during the university spring travel rush, he had already purchased his high-speed train ticket back home several days in advance on the very night he decided to return home.

[Su City-Wu City, Departure time: 11:35 AM, Passenger: Meng Lang, ID number...]

Then, he searched again and indeed found a train that left earlier.

[Su City-Wu City, Departure time: 11:15 AM]

emm...

Meng Lang covered his face.

Twenty minutes! Just to rush for those mere twenty minutes, he had sacrificed a brother’s precious life!

[Perhaps it was a change in mindset, or perhaps knowing that life is short—because of its bitterness and brevity, I started to rush headlong into things without stopping...]

Brother, you really were rushing headlong without stopping!

This painful lesson taught Meng Lang that for a man like him who was envied by the whole world, anything not planned often meant an accident waiting to happen.

Because Fate, God, was always watching over you...

He decided that in the future, even if someone wanted to send him by helicopter, he would still stick to his itinerary and travel in a low-carbon way!

I am a planner, I refuse to have my plans disrupted!

Using the method of self-suggestion, Meng Lang conveyed to his brothers the summary of this life’s failure.

It just so happened that this time was also a traffic accident, but astonishingly, the story didn’t stop updating and continued until the end of life, which was much more professional than that guy who took the plane.

He had long noticed that the way this book was recorded was somewhat mystical.

Many of the contents did not seem to be written by himself, but they were told from a first-person perspective.

Take, for example, the time Lin Haitang ghostwrote for him; he had been memorialized with a tombstone, yet this autobiography kept documenting as usual—it was simply uncanny!

And now, the function of this autobiography seemed even more potent, having begun to employ a third-person omniscient "God’s Eye View"...

Good grief!

Meng Lang refocused his attention on the content of the book itself.

While it was Yan Weiwei who had "indirectly" done him in, the critical question was, what led to the sudden "farewell at the train station"?

Why had there been no farewell from Yan Weiwei in the earlier instances?

Meng Lang focused on the sudden shift in Yan Weiwei’s attitude towards him!

Finding the reason behind this change would lead him to the root of the accident.

But... how exactly did my romantic subplot unfold?

According to the description, it seems something happened after I had a few drinks "tomorrow"?

But given both of our "force values", even if I wanted to do something after getting drunk, it would likely end very badly for me.

Meng Lang, unable to solve the puzzle, shook his head and decided to set aside his personal emotional issues for the time being, writing down a single word in his notebook.

"Alcohol?"

He continued searching for clues in the book and quickly found another dubious point.

[That night’s dinner was delicious, and under the dim candlelight, I made a decision that even I found unbelievable!]

Candlelight?

Who uses candles nowadays?

Is tonight going to be a candlelit dinner? How surprising! But it doesn’t quite fit.

He wrote down two more words, "candlelight"!

And he continued reading.

[...I received a call from Wang Zhao Ping.

I thought he was calling to check on news, but to my surprise, he started asking about my relationship with Lu Kexin.

After that, he gave me a shocking piece of news...]

Lu Kexin... died?

Meng Lang furrowed his brow and turned the pages, looking at the photo for this instance.

The photo’s background featured a twenty-some-story building that was only a skeleton of concrete and steel, with uncleaned exterior scaffolding.

Weeds grew wild around it, giving the place a desolate appearance, like an abandoned construction project.

Unlike before, there were many people in the photo, with seven or eight police officers taking pictures and gathering evidence, Wang Zhao Ping’s familiar figure prominent among them.

Police tape had already cordoned off the area.

Flashing red and blue lights of police cars, the blue and white tones of an ambulance, and most glaringly, a human-shaped body lying on the ground, covered with a white cloth.

In the morning sunlight, the unfinished building cast a long, slanted shadow, covering all the characters in the photo, creating an air of solitude and eeriness...

A sense of heaviness unexpectedly settled in Meng Lang’s heart.

He didn’t know where this heaviness came from.

Perhaps it was an innate repulsion to the evil in the human world, or maybe it was the scream of a soul that had faded from another time and space...

This was yet another brand-new trajectory of life.

He was sure that in his previous life, Wang Zhao Ping had never made this call; otherwise, brothers would have warned him, not waiting until today to find out.

As for why Wang Zhao Ping would contact him, Meng Lang had a rough guess.

He pulled out his phone, opened the contacts list, and tapped on the friend labeled "Kexin."

If someone found that one of the most recent contacts on the deceased’s phone was an acquaintance of theirs, wouldn’t anyone make a call to ask about it?

Meng Lang casually opened Lu Kexin’s social media, noting that her last post was on March 27th, the day after the Yuan Li incident.

[Can happiness be achieved without deception?]

emm...

That quote felt oddly familiar, didn’t it?

Meng Lang gave it some thought, then suddenly remembered—that was exactly what he said to Lu Kexin before leaving the hotel that day!

No wonder it seemed familiar; the proverbial chicken soup was cooked by his own hands.

From the ending question mark, it seemed she was caught in some internal struggle?