After barring the door that Su Xuan had closed, Qin Chang Ge turned back to look at Chu Feihuan. He was still looking elsewhere, expressionless.

Walking over slowly, Qin Chang Ge crouched in front of his wheelchair and said softly: “Feihuan…”

Trembling slightly, Chu Feihuan suddenly turned back.

Qin Chang Ge felt her smile involuntarily carried some melancholy. The dampness in her heart invaded her will, making the ice in some corner of her heart feel colder, yet her mood softened bit by bit. Certain habitual mask-like expressions seemed about to waver and shatter under the opposite man’s deathly silent pure black gaze.

Smiling, she slipped her hand into Chu Feihuan’s palm. It was ice-cold to the touch, and she vaguely sensed small scars and thin calluses, with joints that hurt against her skin—this wasn’t the hand from her memory. Feihuan’s hands had actually been very warm, with a delicacy rare among martial artists. His fingers were flexible and soft, which made his sword draws faster than others, but what she touched now were rigid joints.

Taking a breath, Qin Chang Ge smiled. It’s alright, I’ll work hard to warm your hands in the future.

Thumbs interlocked, middle and ring fingers gently pressing against Chu Feihuan’s palm, Qin Chang Ge closed her eyes and said softly: “Feihuan, I believe your mind-reading technique from years ago is still there. For my sake, try once—you’ll read what you want to find… This time will succeed…”

Eyes widening, Chu Feihuan looked at Qin Chang Ge in disbelief. After a long while, he began trembling lightly.

This long-buried secret, uncovered again after many years—looking at the strange face but familiar eyes of the woman before him, he seemed to glimpse a corner of some profound, endless secret through a crack in heaven’s gate, excited beyond control.

“This way won’t work,” Qin Chang Ge murmured gently. “Come, close your eyes, like long, long ago…”

Biting his lip, Chu Feihuan used that moment of sharp pain to collect his thoughts and closed his eyes.

Black sky and white water, rising and falling, with souls floating within.

Before his eyes seemed to be white mist, chaotic and ethereal, with no clear scenery visible, while underfoot felt so insubstantial, like walking on clouds.

A thread of wandering sound meandered past, thin as gossamer. He listened carefully but could never understand it clearly.

Extreme brightness was also extreme darkness. In the void, time passed like flowing sand. He seemed to have walked very far yet seemed to remain in place, that hazy, blurred feeling never leaving him.

This time… had it failed again?

“Feihuan.”

Suddenly a woman’s voice sounded beside his ear, melodious with a trace of coolness.

Chang Ge!

The stone door of the cave opened with a rumble.

A flash of black light.

Before his eyes suddenly appeared a magnificent palace chamber. Night wind stirred the hanging gauze curtains. A stunning woman bent slightly to embrace the infant on the bed, her calm features carrying the doting smile unique to mothers.

A flash of golden light!

The infant was thrown aside, blood splashing up.

Stepping back, a long blade flew forth, the bright blade tip piercing through… Blood everywhere like fire lotus blossoms. Someone walked slowly closer through that sea of red, in the dark and shaking field of vision, a pair of fingers gently pressed into the woman’s eye sockets…

The bloody vision moved up, but just as it was about to touch the edge of that face, it suddenly stopped. Darkness fell.

Chang Ge… Chang Ge…

Chu Feihuan stood frozen before that tragic scene, feeling his heart sinking endlessly while his soul drifted away, destination unknown.

In confusion, the black light faded and white light flashed, revealing an unfamiliar scene—gray sky, completely unrecognizable ground, some strange giant square boxes, gray-white crisscrossing roads. On the ground many things moved rapidly, making various noisy sounds, with gray-black smoke spewing from their tails. The trees were very short, growing on the roads, actually square, neat and orderly. Some people rode things that also made strange noises, quickly darting past.

He stood there bewildered, watching those strange iron horses whistling past his side.

Ahead suddenly came a group of young girls in strange costumes, exposing snow-white arms and legs, carrying large square boards on their backs, their eyes sparkling with youthful energy.

Such attire in broad daylight? Daring to walk the streets in undergarments? He blushed and stepped back, not knowing where to look, when suddenly one girl turned back, gracefully picking up a dropped brush.

Chang Ge?

The scene suddenly contracted.

Loud breaking sounds shook heaven and earth as valleys collapsed, rocks tumbling down, smoke filling the air. In the rolling flood someone sang leisurely: “There is that phoenix, there is that new emperor, your grace I betrayed, my grace you repay, flowing waters endless, brilliant robes rolling, unsettled death grudges, no sharing moonlight.”

A flash of red light—a pitch-black small room, a scattered female body. By the window, a frail young girl slowly opened her eyes.

Deep black bright pupils, deep as an ancient well, bright as flowing waves, reflecting ten thousand li of worldly vicissitudes and beacon fires, reflecting the eternal heaven and earth with sun and moon shining.

She opened her eyes and slowly smiled.

The clarity of understanding through three lifetimes.

Chang Ge!!!

Chu Feihuan suddenly opened his eyes, drenched in sweat.

Three calls, three lifetimes of trials.

Opposite him, the woman who opened her eyes at the same time had a calm and mysterious smile, her dark pupils reflecting his slightly panicked, disbelieving expression.

“Feihuan,” Qin Chang Ge gripped his hand tightly.

“I left, but I have returned.”

What they call being speechless with emotion must be like this. Much later, holding Chu Feihuan’s hand that had finally calmed down, Qin Chang Ge didn’t know what to say for a moment. He breathed silently, light yet infinitely heavy, while outside the window maple leaves bloomed gorgeously and noisily, but the lines on his palm remained pale and speechless.

After a long while he said: “Your voice… why doesn’t it sound like when I met you at the foot of Shanglin Mountain?”

At the foot of Shanglin Mountain, the young beggar’s voice had been slightly hoarse, but now it was somewhat clearer. That trace of remaining hoarseness had instead become perfectly placed ornamental flourishes, different from Xiao Chen’s warm and pleasant sound, with its own kind of low, lingering charm.

It was precisely because of this that Qin Chang Ge hadn’t been able to recognize him immediately when Chu Feihuan first spoke.

“That was from illness. Gang Leader Su spared no expense seeking medicine. What I have now is already quite fortunate.”

Smiling, Qin Chang Ge said: “Now that everything is in the open, let’s set aside the past. Huang Meng awaits your return, and Rong’er wants to see you too.”

Chu Feihuan’s eyes brightened as he unconsciously touched his sleeve pocket. Qin Chang Ge said: “Yes, the child who gave you the jade lock piece that day was Rong’er. Divine will and innocence are wonderful things—in the unseen realm they naturally provide hints.”

After thinking, Chu Feihuan’s expression darkened again. Qin Chang Ge naturally knew his thoughts and said gently: “The road ahead is uncertain, our great revenge unfinished. Feihuan, I need you.”

Chu Feihuan remained silent, but suddenly commotion came from ahead.

“Hey hey hey! What are you doing? What are you doing what are you doing? Impropriety, impropriety impropriety impropriety!!!”

The clear, bright voice made one immediately think of mountain spring water and birds in tree branches, mixed with several parts annoyance and willfulness, pouring forth like a broken silver screen with scattered jade pearls.

Qin Chang Ge laughed.

With some “just as expected” smugness.

Opening the window wider, she watched that bouncing little youth. Today he wore bright yellow robes, making him even more vivid and lively like a restless little oriole. Shining silver chains clinked and clattered as Su Xuan held him straight up in his grasp. A crowd of people followed behind with embarrassed expressions—some with smoke-blackened faces, some clutching red, swollen wrists and crying in pain, some carrying dead snakes in fury, some hopping about with torn sleeves. Human voices, bell sounds, quarreling voices, and screaming voices were like a pot of boiling oil with cold water thrown in—complete chaos where nothing could be heard clearly. The once quiet, elegant back garden had become like a marketplace. Su Xuan, who usually disliked noise, rarely lost his carefree smile, holding that silver chain and frowning at the little troublemaker opposite him, his face full of helplessness.

Hearing him shout about impropriety, Su Xuan couldn’t help but laugh. “Impropriety? You’re a man—what impropriety? Or rather, what do you have worth my committing impropriety against?” Su Xuan smiled, looking the youth up and down deliberately with crude eyes, as if searching for places suitable for “impropriety.”

His experienced, discerning gaze from long battles in pleasure quarters was more embarrassing than ordinary lechers’ lustful, drooling looks. Even that bold, impudent youth couldn’t help blushing and shrinking his neck. His clothes had a very high collar, so he couldn’t shrink into it. Instead he threw back his head and shouted: “Haven’t you heard of cut sleeves? You old man? Sneaky perverted looks, definitely not a good person!”

With a roar, a group of rough Blazing Flame Gang men burst into laughter, shaking their heads as they laughed.

“Whose infatuated young master? Coming to Blazing Flame Gang to cause trouble?”

“Cut sleeves? Our gang leader hasn’t even touched your hand, hasn’t even touched your sleeve—what’s to cut? Could this be some little male escort who escaped from some brothel, taken with our gang leader’s charm and trying to blackmail him?”

“Does look like a rabbit, tender and smooth, haha…”

That youth had been born into the highest social class, pampered since childhood—when had he ever heard such words? His delicate eyebrows shot up in anger, his wrist shaking as the bells chimed softly.

Palm raised and trembling stopped, “old man” Su Xuan smiled helplessly and shook his head: “This thing in your hands always causes trouble…” His fingers gently pinched over. The pure gold bells became like mud in his hands—with a light pinch they completely closed. He pinched his way along, turning all dozen or so bells into round balls.

Then with a flick of his finger, the bells fell to the ground with continuous clanging, rolling about chaotically. In the youth’s hands remained only a bare chain.

“You!” Seeing him destroy his carefully crafted weapon with a wave of his hand, the youth flew into a rage, his face flushed red with anger, big eyes filling with tears that reflected the last rays of evening sunset, flowing with brilliant radiance—even silent resentment was moving.

The laughter stopped as everyone stared at the youth. Wow, they hadn’t noticed—he really was a beautiful young man.

Some people were already trying to recall the famous courtesans from several well-known male brothels in the capital—was he from Yang Liuqing’s place in the east of the city? Or from Zuiyanhong’s establishment in the west?

Qin Chang Ge watched through the window with calm appreciation, saying: “Feihuan, Gang Leader Su’s trouble has finally arrived. If we continue disturbing them, it would be tactless.”

Chu Feihuan stared carefully at that youth for a while, his gaze sweeping over the high-collared clothing: “Gang Leader Su has such keen insight, how can he not see…”

“He’s prejudiced,” Qin Chang Ge smiled. “This is Young Master Shui from the Shui family. The Shui family has indeed always publicly claimed to have seven sons. This child has an indulgent nature and is accustomed to dressing as a boy. Her behavior shows no abnormalities, and Su Xuan is a carefree person who doesn’t like investigating details—it’s normal he didn’t notice immediately. But… it won’t be long.”

A faint smile like wind passed across his face, too quick to catch. Chu Feihuan said: “He’s a good person, deserving of his own happiness.”

“Naturally,” Qin Chang Ge turned back, gazing at Chu Feihuan. “He has no time to bother with us now—we should go. I’ll leave him a note. Feihuan, you are ultimately Huang Meng’s person, a friend I’ve always cared about. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be by my side, staying elsewhere instead.”

Crouching down, supporting the chair’s armrest, looking into Chu Feihuan’s clear eyes, Qin Chang Ge said gently: “After the bloodbath at Changle in the previous life… in this life, I no longer know whom I can trust. Feihuan, I’m very lonely—in my heart, extremely lonely. I don’t know who are my enemies, who are my friends. Truth is hidden behind mist, while the Ruiyi of my previous life still bears the infamous name of political chaos and elopement. Though countless people surround me, those I can trust, who will help me clear this injustice, number only a few. The rest have inscrutable faces… Feihuan, you are the person I most want to trust. At this moment, you cannot abandon me.”

Silence.

After a long while, Chu Feihuan finally slowly raised his eyes, looking directly into hers, and sighed.

He slowly reached out to stroke Qin Chang Ge’s black hair. When his fingers were about to touch her hair, he paused slightly, then gently let them fall. He said in a low voice: “You… your martial arts haven’t recovered, it must be very difficult now? I’ll accompany you… starting from the beginning.”

Qin Chang Ge smiled with pursed lips, her eyelashes slightly moist. In a trance she remembered the previous previous life, when Feihuan had that strange, awkward personality, never willing to approach her. Now, having experienced life and death tribulations, he seemed to finally understand many things.

Pushing Chu Feihuan from the back courtyard, at the side gate there was a carriage waiting. Upon inquiry, it was indeed sent by Huang Meng. Qi Fan was thoughtful and had inexplicable confidence in Qin Chang Ge, knowing she could persuade Chu Feihuan back and had arranged for someone to wait.

A sturdy coachman came over and gently lifted Chu Feihuan. Qin Chang Ge had already turned away, pretending to look at roadside trinket stalls, not watching him. Such a proud man, reduced to his current state of being unable to walk, needing care for all movement—that feeling must be worse than death. Qin Chang Ge knew that all she could do now was try her best to preserve Feihuan’s dignity.

Once in the carriage, Chu Feihuan’s expression was calm. As the carriage swayed slightly, he suddenly spoke: “What’s your current identity?”

“A palace maid by Princess Wen Chang’s side, accompanying her in taking religious vows at Shanglin Nunnery to pray for the country. Named Ming Shuang.” Qin Chang Ge briefly explained the current situation, then said: “Feihuan, that day it was clearly Yu Zixi who took you away—how did you end up with Su Xuan?”

“I don’t know either,” Chu Feihuan said flatly. “When I woke up, Su Xuan was the one I saw.”

“Those two have quite a friendship,” Qin Chang Ge thoughtfully tapped the carriage wall. “Feihuan, regarding the secret you just ‘saw,’ Qi Fan and the others don’t know about it. For now, don’t speak of it.”

Dark eyelashes lifted as Chu Feihuan gazed deeply at Qin Chang Ge. Some unclear emotions flashed through his eyes, but they were too deep to fathom. After a long while he said: “Alright.”

Xiao Baozi was very depressed today.

Because everyone was so strange.

First was Mother—that lazy mother who always acted like nothing mattered and nothing could make her care—suddenly looked like she’d been punched and ran off abandoning him.

Her expression actually seemed like fear—would she be afraid? He only knew she was deathly afraid of mice, saying it was a weird quirk and weakness she couldn’t overcome in several lifetimes—hm? Several lifetimes?—but among living people or things, he’d never thought she’d fear anything.

Then just eating some pastry, he actually ran into the Emperor’s dragon claw. Though later he earned enough sweets to last three years, His Imperial Majesty was too petty—just some pastries, was it worth being so heartbroken he smashed his bowl?

But after smashing the bowl he went to Shanglin Nunnery to find Mother. Oh, Mother, you’ve been caught playing hooky by the Emperor again—you’re doomed.

Xiao Baozi cackled smugly for a while, then thought of his two uncles and made a bitter face.

Uncle Qi and Uncle Rong didn’t know what was wrong either. Uncle Rong came back first, whistling through the courtyard like a small hurricane, diving into his room in the blink of an eye. With a bang, the shock of the door closing made three surrounding houses tremble simultaneously.

He tiptoed over trying to eavesdrop on what had happened, but when still two zhang from the door, whoosh—a scroll came flying out, brushing past his nose tip and thudding into the wall behind him. The scroll unrolled with a rustle, fluttering in the wind. He went over to look—several beautiful characters: “Overcome Impatience with Patience.”

These characters had hung in Uncle Rong’s room for a long time, but today for some reason he had thrown them out.

He was puzzling over this when crash—another sound of a door being slammed open. Uncle Rong swept out again like wind, stopping before the scroll nailed to the wall, staring blankly at those characters. He slowly reached out as if to touch them, but snatched his hand back as if burned.

He curiously tilted his head to stare at Uncle Rong. Why were Uncle Rong’s eyes a bit red? His face a bit white? His lips a bit blue? Eh eh, even whiter, even bluer, even redder…

Whoosh—with a sleeve flip, a certain little person trying to spy on others’ turbulent inner emotions was politely escorted out of the courtyard to stay in a tree.

Xiao Baozi felt so wronged… What’s the big deal? Just wanting to cry? Worth getting so angry? I cry often too—why didn’t I send you up a tree?

Getting fierce—must practice martial arts, the strongest martial arts. Once mastered, whether you want to cry or not, as long as I’m happy, sleeve flip, whoosh, you can all stay in trees too!

After getting fierce, he peered down from the tree… how to get down ahhhhh…

Someone pushed through the door, walking steadily. Xiao Baozi was delighted and turned to see Uncle Qi.

Just about to call out, he saw Uncle Qi had also lost his usual joking expression, walking quickly to Uncle Rong’s room.

Xiao Baozi stared at his hands—his door-pushing hands seemed to be shaking?

Low voices came from inside, sounding from afar like moaning struggling in nightmares.

Xiao Baozi suddenly felt desolate. Today everyone was abnormal, everyone was strange, as if some unknown event had turned everything upside down on this ordinary day, smacking apart many long-buried past events with scattered ash creating new fog barriers.

This strange, stagnant atmosphere puzzled him. After thinking for a long time, he simply stretched and lay down.

A thread of dim yellow sunset reflected on his long eyelashes—those lashes long and slightly curled like quiet golden silk strings.

He fell asleep.

When Xiao Baozi woke up, he was already sleeping in his mother’s arms.

Opening his eyes, in the first instant he looked into a pair of crystal-clear, beautiful eyes.

He was stunned, a bit confused, not knowing if he was still dreaming, because just now in his dream he had seen these eyes.

But he immediately smiled.

Because he saw his lazy, bad mother smiling as she pressed her cool hand against his cheek.

So he shivered and immediately became as awake as possible.

Grinning, Xiao Baozi happily remembered those beautiful eyes he had looked into when tiptoeing to hand over the jade lock piece.

He said: “Uncle, you came.”

Chu Feihuan looked at the child before him, his gaze rarely touched with warmth. Three years ago he had held his small, soft body—then he was still just an infant, lying quietly in the Changle Palace’s fiery hell, beside his mother’s gruesome corpse. When he lifted him, amid the thick smell of blood and burning stench, he clearly smelled the infant’s milk fragrance. In the firelight the child’s face was plump as a peach, while beside them the beloved woman gradually turned to ash. At that moment he suddenly felt that the tree of flowers blooming on Zhan Du Bridge, that single late spring blossom, had finally withered forever.

Three years later, the infant had grown into a lively, spirited child, the dead person had been reborn in a new body through three lifetimes, everything seemed to be perfectly starting over.

But what about himself…

Some things, once lost, were lost forever, never to be recovered, like time, like those peaceful yet silent years, like… his once healthy, complete limbs.

What kind of misty dream was the past? Whose prophecy and ending was revealed upon waking from such a dream?

His gaze sank deep as the ocean.

But Xiao Rong suddenly leaned over.

He didn’t understand what had happened, nor did he know why this uncle he liked very much was looking at him with such melancholy, painful eyes, but that pain made him feel slightly pained too. In his short four years of life, he had never had such feelings, making him urgently want to transmit warmth to someone he valued.

He leaned over, using his face to nuzzle against Chu Feihuan’s slightly cool cheek.

He also patted his shoulder comfortingly, adult-like consolation: “There, everything’s fine now…”

Chu Feihuan was stunned.

His gaze slowly turned to the little chubby paw on his shoulder, while the warm, soft touch on his cheek lingered.

For a moment he didn’t know how to handle a child’s consideration and comfort.

Unlike adult pity that would bring tearing pain, pure childish affection was clean as gardenia flowers, soft and beautiful as silk, brushing across the bleeding cracks and wounds in his heart with healing effects like miraculous medicine.

Chu Feihuan lowered his eyelashes, hiding all his intense emotions behind his gaze—he still didn’t know how to respond.

But Xiao Baozi didn’t mind at all, grinning proudly as he looked at his mother.

Qin Chang Ge nodded approvingly at him. At this time Qi Fan and Rong Xiaotian had come out to greet them.

Seeing Chu Feihuan, Qi Fan immediately said: “Brother Chu, the Qilü Garden in the back courtyard is quiet and peaceful. I’ve had it cleaned—would you please rest there?”

Rong Xiaotian stood silently at a distance.

“I’ll still stay in Haoxue Pavilion.” Chu Feihuan said gently. “I’m used to it.”

Saying these words, his heart ached again. Used to it—these three years, wasn’t he more used to broken temples, sewers, and cold leftovers?

Rong Xiaotian had already hurried off to order people to clean Haoxue Pavilion, his steps flying. Qi Fan personally stepped forward to take over the wheelchair Qin Chang Ge was pushing: “It’s getting late. You should return to Prince Zhao’s mansion early to avoid arousing his suspicion.”

“Mm,” Qin Chang Ge entered the study, found yellow mounting paper, dashed off a random talisman, and tucked it in her clothes. Qi Fan handed her a paper scroll: “The three matters you asked me to investigate—Chihe Road is distant so news hasn’t returned yet. The other two matters are written in the scroll for you to read.”

Nodding, she tucked both in her clothes. Qin Chang Ge turned back to smile at Chu Feihuan: “Brother Chu, now that you’ve returned, please rest and recover well. I’ll finish my business at Prince Zhao’s mansion as soon as possible so we can all have a good talk.”