Lu Tong walked along the road.

Dense white mist surrounded her on both sides, accumulated and unable to disperse, but the long road beneath her feet looked somewhat familiar.

Apricot trees were planted all along the street, their branches already bearing green unripe fruit. Suddenly someone patted her from behind and threw an arm around her shoulder, pressing down on her head and rubbing it vigorously twice: “I’m back!”

She turned around in surprise, staring blankly at the youth before her in green robes wearing a scholar’s cap.

The youth carried a book case on his back, his features bright and handsome. He pulled out a handful of bean candy from his book case and stuffed it into her hands, “Here, for you.”

She looked at the sugar blocks wrapped in rice paper in her palm, then at the person before her: “Lu Qian?”

“Such disrespect,” he laughed and scolded, hooking his arm around Lu Tong’s neck as they walked forward, “Call me big brother—”

The surroundings gradually brightened. Red clouds slanted across the mountain top, dyeing the long street, and the fragrance of cooking gradually filled the narrow alley as the noisy sounds of neighbors greeting each other arose.

The main gate ahead creaked open with a “squeak,” and a beautiful face peeked out from inside. The young woman wore a goose-yellow brocade magnolia skirt, like a fresh spring flower in bloom, smiling at the two of them: “A’Qian, little sister, hurry in and wash your hands for dinner!”

She stared in amazement, and in the lingering sunset, her eyes suddenly moistened.

This was the Lu family residence in Changwu County.

“Coming, coming—” Lu Qian said while pulling her through the door.

Beyond the entrance was the dining hall with a long wooden bench. Through the window was a small courtyard, cleaned spotlessly, with three rooms adjoining the courtyard and calligraphy paintings still hanging on the walls. Near the kitchen area, a blue stone jar held clear water, with a gourd ladle floating on the surface.

Lu Tong stopped in her tracks.

The familiar residence where she had lived for many years – there were no traces of fire, no charred wood or ashes. It remained as it had been many years ago in her memory, like a yellowed old paper, gentle with ink and brush.

“What are you standing there for?” Lu Qian pulled her to wash her hands. “Be careful or father will scold you later.”

“How did you come back so late,” came their father’s gentle cough from behind, scolding with a stern face, “probably played along the way.”

Lu Tong turned around.

She saw her father, wearing that familiar half-worn cotton straight robe, with some wear marks on the collar. She saw her mother, carrying a winnowing basket of dried Chinese toon from around the courtyard, her hair bun adorned with scattered leaves from the apricot tree.

They stood well before her.

Lu Tong’s tears flowed down.

“Oh my,” Lu Rou saw this and hurriedly came over with a handkerchief to wipe her tears: “Why are you crying?”

She turned and embraced Lu Rou, like a destitute traveler who had finally found the way home, joy arising from sorrow, sorrow arising from joy. Unable to hold back any longer, she burst into tears.

Lu Rou gently patted her back, just as she had in the past when she got into trouble and was scolded by their father, comforting her softly: “Little sister has grown into a big girl, but still loves to cry so much.”

“She’s been a crybaby since childhood,” Lu Qian rubbed her head, smiling as he teased her, “but Lu San, you’ve grown so big, do you still love to cry so much?”

Lu Tong was confused for a moment.

She had always been unable to bear grievances.

In the past at home, when she argued and fought with Lu Qian, she would always rely on being young to cry first, and in the end it was always Lu Qian who got scolded. Lu Qian always said there was a great lake locked in her eyes, tears falling at will. Later, when she followed Yunniang to Falling Plum Peak, there was no one to bully her.

She had almost forgotten the taste of grievance.

She no longer loved to cry.

Lu Tong raised her head and said softly: “Father, Mother, Sister, Second Brother, did you come to take me home?”

Legend said that after death, people would return to the place they most missed in life.

On Falling Plum Peak, many times she had wondered whether she would return to her hometown after death. She wanted to return to the Lu family, to see her family.

The motion of wiping tears stopped. Lu Rou withdrew her hand and shook her head with a gentle smile.

“Tongtong,” she said, “you’ve already grown up.”

Lu Tong stared at her blankly.

“Little sister has grown up,” Lu Rou smiled as she looked at her, “able to go to the capital alone to avenge the family.”

“Ke Chengxing, Fan Zhenglian, Liu Kun, Qi Yutai… you did very well. You’ve become very capable.”

Lu Tong trembled all over.

Like having her shameful past discovered, the parts she desperately wanted to hide, she stammered, not daring to raise her head to look at her family’s expressions.

“Lu San, I originally thought you were a coward. I didn’t expect to be so wrong.” The youth’s voice was bright and cheerful, just as before. “With this, we can be at ease in the future.”

“I’m sorry…” she spoke incoherently, “I…”

She wanted to say she didn’t want to be so cruel and calculating in her methods. She wanted to say the Lu family had strict family traditions, yet she had betrayed their precepts. She wanted to say so much, but when the words reached her lips, she couldn’t say any of it.

“No need to apologize.” Her father’s voice came to her ears.

She looked up. Her father stood before her, still with that stern appearance, but his tone carried an imperceptible gentleness.

“The virtuous do not harm others for self-benefit; the benevolent do not endanger others for fame.”

He looked at Lu Tong: “My Lu family’s daughter – well done.”

Lu Tong’s eyes blurred again.

She clearly didn’t cry much anymore. Over these years, she felt she had gradually cultivated an iron heart, yet unexpectedly, in front of her family, she seemed to return to many years ago, still that Lu Min who would cry at the slightest disagreement.

“Stop crying, third girl,” her mother came over, embraced her, and held her gently: “It’s getting late. You should go back.”

She suddenly shivered: “No, I don’t want to!”

“I don’t want to go back!” Lu Tong grabbed her mother’s sleeve. “I want to stay here! I want to be with Father, Mother, Sister, and Second Brother forever!”

She hated separation, despised farewells. Seeing this reunion ending, how could she bear to stop here?

“Tongtong,” her mother looked at her, her voice gentle and loving: “You’ve already grown up. When children grow up, they must leave their parents, leave home. And now, you’re such a capable doctor.”

“Someone is still waiting for you,” she wiped away Lu Tong’s tears, speaking jokingly: “Have you forgotten your little sweetheart?”

Little sweetheart?

Lu Tong was stunned.

“My daughter suffered so much in the past,” her mother lovingly touched her hair, “she grew up, became smart and beautiful, strong and brave. Everything we couldn’t do, she accomplished completely.”

“Don’t cling to the past. People must look forward. Father, Mother, Sister, and Brother all love you, and there are many more people in the world who love you. Our Lu family’s daughter has always moved forward, hasn’t she?”

“I don’t want to move forward.” She cried, as if stubbornly pursuing an impossible result: “I want to stay here, I want to be with you all…”

A layer of white mist gradually arose before her eyes. The figures in front became illusory again. She suddenly realized something and tried to reach out to catch them, but grasped nothing, vaguely hearing a gentle sigh in the air.

“Tongtong…”

It was her parents’ voices: “Go forward, don’t linger in the past anymore.”

Then it became Lu Qian and Lu Rou’s exhortations.

“Be braver, go forward.”

The surroundings suddenly plunged into darkness.

She looked at the empty desolation and couldn’t help but squat down, hugging her knees and crying bitterly.

Why was she still left behind? Why could she never have completeness? She had clearly returned home, clearly seen her parents and siblings, so why couldn’t she hold onto them?

People should move forward, but the past was too heavy, and the future had no visible end. Attachment and dependence were like roots connecting to reality. She held onto that thread, reluctant to let go.

But she had to let go.

“Knock knock—”

In the deathly silence, the sound of knocking suddenly rang out.

She was stunned. Looking up, in the pitch-black surroundings, a window suddenly appeared.

Someone stood before the window.

He was a handsome young man in bright crimson brocade robes, like a warm light in this dark abyss, bright and gentle. Through the window, he waved a bamboo tube filled with sweet syrup in front of Lu Tong and spoke with a smile.

“How long are you going to hide here?”

Lu Tong was stunned for a moment.

The next moment, as if impatient with waiting, he directly entered the room and pulled her up from the ground.

“Come out,” he said.

The door was pushed open.

He pulled her along as she stumbled out of the room. That layer of dense fog gradually dispersed, and the surroundings became lively again. The young man’s voice was clear as wind, speaking carelessly: “Have you forgotten West Street?”

West Street?

This name was so familiar. With these words, she saw not far away, at the corner of the small alley, a flourishing plum tree casting deep green shade under the scorching sun. On the plaque hidden among the branches, “Renxin” was properly written.

The young proprietor sat at the desk with his chin propped up, dozing off in boredom. The sitting physician squinted his dim old eyes, leaning close to read the characters on the medical text while rubbing his own leg. The young clerk stood on a stool, carefully wiping the golden gleaming banner on the wall. A prettier girl was at the tailor shop across the street, holding up a green plum silk cotton dress and earnestly bargaining with the shopkeeper.

The girl turned back, saw Lu Tong, and immediately broke into a smile: “Miss has returned—”

The sunlight was intense and dazzling. She heard the young man’s smiling voice again: “Have you forgotten the Imperial Medical Academy?”

Imperial Medical Academy?

So she saw again that place she had once despised, that academy she had entered out of necessity for her schemes.

She saw in the medicine room, an elegant and refined man bending down to pick up scattered medical texts from the floor, carefully sorting different categories of notes to put into the medicine box. She saw the good-natured chief physician holding the roster of those who went to Sunan for epidemic relief, arguing with reason and insisting on adding her name to it.

The bright and cheerful girl opened her heart to her in the night rain. Under the solitary lamp, the plum wine was sour, and she spoke with drunken boldness and openness, patting her shoulder and calling out:

“In the future, you’ll be the chief physician and I’ll be the deputy. Together we’ll wield our swords and hold our heads high!”

“Here’s to us becoming chief physicians!”

She was in a daze, her gaze falling on the distance.

The mist gradually receded, revealing clearer memories of the past.

There was the sallow-faced woman among the garden full of red petals, the gentle and kind scholar in the grass hut by the fishy-smelling stalls of the fresh fish market, the long-bearded merchant full of classical expressions, the fierce woman who wanted to find a good husband in the Imperial City for her daughter while secretly giving her a basket of plums…

They talked and laughed as they passed by her. Greetings and old words gradually condensed into thread after thread of delicate connections. Those threads entangled her, weaving into a soft, large net around her.

She realized that unknowingly, she had formed connections with so many people. She had been here for so long.

She suddenly felt a faint reluctance to leave.

A voice came from behind: “Stay, Little Seventeen.”

She was startled with alarm.

All the mortal world’s smoke and fire suddenly scattered, everything around vanished abruptly. Lu Tong turned around to find Yunniang standing before her.

The woman still had that charming and moving appearance, wearing a golden-red feathered satin cloak. In the ice and snow, she was like a richly blooming red plum, looking at her with a half-smile.

“Do you want to leave here?” she asked.

Falling Plum Peak was covered in silver-white, with mountain ranges stretching endlessly out of sight. Lu Tong stepped back.

“Stay,” she said gently, her tone seeming to carry enchantment as she beckoned to Lu Tong from afar. “Stay by my side.”

“In this world, human hearts are hard to fathom, and worldly affairs are treacherous. What’s so good about the capital?” She smiled as she spoke persuasively. “Ke Chengxing, for personal desire, personally killed his bedmate. Fan Zhenglian sought advancement, disregarding the innocent. Your cousin Liu Kun, for a hundred taels of silver, sent his nephew to the execution platform. The Grand Tutor’s manor wielded overwhelming power, and to quell trouble, silenced the entire Lu family.”

She walked toward Lu Tong.

“You did very well.” Yunniang praised: “Clean and decisive, not letting a single one escape. So many people have come to Falling Plum Peak, but you’re the first good child who knows how to kill.”

“Little Seventeen, you and I are the same kind of people.”

Lu Tong trembled all over and instinctively retorted: “I’m not.”

“Of course you are.” Yunniang walked up to her, smiling as she tucked the loose hair from her forehead behind her ear. The woman’s fingers were ice-cold, but colder still were her words.

“You’ve already killed so many people. Your great revenge is complete, with no more attachments.” She looked at Lu Tong lovingly. “So tired, good child. Why not stay here and be free from now on?”

She took Lu Tong’s hand.

“After all, you never really left, did you?”

Lu Tong was confused for a moment.

She knew Yunniang was right.

All along, she had felt that everyone and everything was moving forward, only she wasn’t. Looking back, there was no Lu family courtyard; looking forward, she couldn’t see the end. She seemed like someone left alone in the thatched hut on Falling Plum Peak, not knowing how to get out.

So she never wanted to think about the future.

“You and I are the same kind of people. So stay.”

Yunniang took her hand and walked toward the thatched hut in front of the plum trees.

“You have nothing left.”

Lu Tong let her lead, just as when she first went up the mountain as a child, entrusting her unknown future fate to her hands, walking toward that place she knew so well, that secret where she had spent many years.

Father, Mother, Brother, and Sister were all gone.

The enemies were gone too.

She couldn’t return to the old Lu family residence. Looking back, aside from this Falling Plum Peak, she had nowhere to rest her feet.

Old friends had all scattered; she had nothing left.

She let the woman lead her forward in confusion, but at this moment, she smelled a fragrant, cold scent.

The fragrance was faint but distinct, aromatic and cool, causing her mind to clear for an instant, as if someone was speaking in her ear.

He said: “Are you really willing to abandon all this, having no attachment to these people and things?”

He said: “Learn to cherish yourself.”

He said: “Lu Tong, I prefer you.”

As if something deeper gradually became clear in her mind, driving away fear and confusion.

Lu Tong’s steps paused.

“You’re wrong,” she said.

Yunniang was stunned.

She looked at Yunniang: “I’m not the same as you.”

“Oh? How are you different?”

“I am a physician.”

“A physician?”

Yunniang’s expression gradually changed, laughing sarcastically: “What kind of physician are you? Who can you save? You can’t even save yourself, Little Seventeen.”

“I can save myself.”

She looked directly at the woman, no longer silent and wooden as she had been years ago, no longer avoiding the other’s meaningful gaze in panic.

The plum blossoms on Falling Plum Peak were gorgeous and passionate. In the past, she had always found the blood-colored plum blossoms frightening, but now looking at them, her heart was completely calm.

“I’ve saved many people. Wu Youcai, He Xiu, Lin Danqing’s aunt, Pei Yunshu, the people of Sunan… I will save even more people in the future.”

Lu Tong said: “I can save myself.”

Yunniang looked at her: “What are you clinging to? The dirty mortal world, unpredictable human hearts – what’s worth cherishing?”

“I did indeed see many cold people,” Lu Tong broke free from her hand, “but I also met many good people.”

She had met many good people.

The rough county magistrate who gave her candy at the execution ground, the gentle girl who never left her side after being rescued from the mass grave, the hard-mouthed but soft-hearted dandy proprietor in the shabby medical hall in the streets, the kind-hearted physician who happened to pass by on the bridge in Sunan when she was young…

In Sunan, on Falling Plum Peak, on the streets of the capital.

Though they didn’t look remarkable and weren’t powerful enough, like the most insignificant dust among all living beings, they were kind and resilient, giving her warmth in the marketplace atmosphere, letting her see stronger vitality.

This vitality could save her.

“I’m going back,” Lu Tong said. “Someone is waiting for me.”

“Little Seventeen…”

“I’m not called Little Seventeen,” Lu Tong looked at her and slowly shook her head. “You never asked my name. My surname is Lu, my given name is Min, and my nickname is Tongtong.”

“I am the Lu family’s daughter, Renxin Medical Hall’s physician, and the Imperial Medical Academy’s medical officer.”

“I am no longer your drug tester.”

After saying this, she turned and ran toward the foot of the mountain.

The mountain wind once again swept across her cheek, brushing past the places she had passed countless times. Many clamorous voices reached her ears, each sentence vivid and distinct.

“No matter what Dr. Lu wants to do, Youcai only wishes Dr. Lu all the best and that her wishes come true.”

“Come, here’s to us becoming chief physicians!”

“Miss, I’ll wait for you here. You must come back.”

“Deputy Chief Miao told me you were his benefactor and student, asking me to take good care of you at the Imperial Medical Academy.”

“Let us toast this good teacher, thanking her for her devoted instruction to our Dr. Lu, for teaching West Street such a female divine physician—”

“You and A’Ying are friends. Calling me Princess would be too formal. You can call me sister.”

“Miss Seventeen, when injured in the future, seek treatment promptly. As a physician, you should understand this principle even better.”

Those voices grew closer and closer in her ears, warm, clamorous, bustling and filling the empty gaps.

She was no longer alone. That fine mesh net gently enveloped her. In a tragic story, countless people who appeared by chance called her name, whether gently or worriedly, in joy or sorrow. Together they pulled her, connecting her to the mortal world.

She had friends, confidants, and someone she liked.

She was no longer alone.

Lu Tong ran faster and faster. The white mist gradually dispersed with her running steps. At the end, she saw a door. That door glowed with a dim yellow light in the dark night, flickering bright and dark, refusing to be extinguished in the snowy night.

She pushed open the door.

…

“There is! There’s breathing!”

A shout suddenly erupted in the room.

Chang Jin ecstatically supported the arm of the person on the bed.

That weak pulse, faint as a dying candle flame, but it had reappeared, like a suddenly descending miracle, shocking everyone in the room.

Lin Danqing wept like rain: “Sister Lu—”

They had thought everything was settled. She was like a candle about to be extinguished, never to be rekindled. But at the last moment, there was sudden hope after despair.

Lu Tong opened her eyes.

It was very noisy outside. She heard Chang Jin’s loud calling, seemingly saying something to the physicians outside the door. Lin Danqing’s laughter was incredibly excited. Ji Xun’s voice asking about her was covered by the chaotic footsteps outside the door, making it hard to hear clearly.

She saw a figure in front of her.

That young man was different from his carefree composure in the dream. Their eyes met, staring at her without blinking, his eyes alarmingly red.

She was stunned for a moment, then smiled gently.

“Pei Yunying,” Lu Tong reached out, touching his eyes, “were you crying?”

The next moment, he bent down and embraced her. She felt his body actually trembling, holding her as if using all his strength.

Lu Tong let him hold her without speaking, but felt warm liquid dropping into the hollow of her neck, burning hot.

So she reached out her hand and gently embraced him back.