Lin Ruhai’s funeral was conducted with utmost dignity. The visitors were numerous, and those of distinguished status were countless.

In the eyes of outsiders, the Lin family’s prestige was remarkably formidable. It was only a pity that with his passing, the Lin family would once again fade from the court for three years.

Ying Yu and Daiyu both cried themselves into tearful wrecks before the memorial tablet. From this point on, they were people without a father. Luo Yu was also grief-stricken, but she could not leave the palace, so she had Hongli and Hongzhou come in her stead.

Even Yongzheng felt regret for Lin Ruhai, bestowing upon him the posthumous name “Jingzheng,” which was also an acknowledgment of Lin Ruhai’s achievements.

After the funeral was completed, the family escorted the coffin back to Gusu. Those who remained were only Yuan Ge’er and his wife.

His wife was pregnant with significant morning sickness and could not undertake long journeys, so they simply remained in the capital.

Xi Jie’er had already left home through the selection process last year. Of the grandchildren’s generation, only Qing Jie’er remained by their side.

Before returning to the capital, Yun Shuyao gave Hongli some items—enough for him to digest slowly for quite some time.

After returning to Gusu, Chen Yu was initially somewhat unaccustomed—unaccustomed both to his father’s passing and to being idle after having been so busy.

At the same time, he remained in a state resembling stress response, coming to pay respects to Yun Shuyao rain or shine. Whether there was anything to discuss or not, he had to see her every day to feel at ease.

Chen Yu felt that since Father’s departure, the otherworldly quality about Mother had grown heavier.

If she were to don Taoist robes, Chen Yu felt there would be no sense of discord whatsoever.

Chen Yu truly worried that one day Mother would tell him she had lost interest in worldly affairs and wished to become a nun.

Yun Shuyao naturally would not become a nun. If her son’s heart was uneasy and he wished to see her, then let him see her.

As time passed, Chen Yu’s anxiety gradually faded. Simultaneously, he regained his composure and, together with his wife Wanxin, continued their translation work.

Yun Shuyao’s fleet brought back the most books from each voyage, followed by various types of seeds. Yun Shuyao had already discovered several types of vegetables and fruits they did not have here.

Once identifying what they were, she cultivated them separately. Many vegetables and fruits did not begin in the form seen in later generations—they resulted from generations of human selective breeding.

Compared to the constant maneuvering with numerous old foxes at court, researching materials and translating here was relatively labor-intensive but not mentally taxing work. Chen Yu had temporarily withdrawn from the court, though not completely.

The Lin family was not merely the Lin family—many people depended on them. These people remained at court, and when encountering problems, they would seek his counsel. As head of the Lin family, Chen Yu could not truly be idle, though his workload was considerably lighter than before.

Lin Daiyu would also come over from time to time, just as before. She would also translate things that interested her, mostly regarding natural sciences, and would exchange ideas with her brother and sister-in-law.

This was also what Yun Shuyao wished to see. In cultivating improved varieties, they could not contribute much effort. But in translating Western books and writing treatises, they could easily take on the task.

Each had their own strengths—why emphasize weaknesses while avoiding strengths?

Because Lin Daiyu loved composing poetry, Yun Shuyao also urged her to transcribe the poems she was satisfied with. When she had accumulated a certain quantity, she could even publish a book. If these were to disappear into the river of history, even Yun Shuyao, who did not love poetry, would find it regrettable. It must be said that although the Lin family had produced several generations of Tanhua scholars, only Lin Daiyu maintained an enduring love for poetry. She possessed exceptional spiritual sensitivity in this art.

Although publishing books was not something ordinary people could afford, surely their family could establish their own printing house?

Even if not made public, keeping copies for family and friends as mementos was entirely acceptable.

Lin Daiyu was moved.

Seeing this, Tang Wanxin felt somewhat envious. Yun Shuyao: “If you wish it, you too can publish books. No need to envy her.”

Hearing these words, Tang Wanxin was astonished: “Mother, I don’t have such literary talent.”

She had self-awareness. It wasn’t that she couldn’t compose poetry, but she rarely produced excellent verses.

Yun Shuyao: “You have your own strengths. Think about what you’re doing.” Why would she be translating Western treatises together with them?

First, because she herself was interested in this area and had spent considerable time researching it.

She had learned foreign languages later, but now translated overseas books even more fluently than Chen Yu.

Yun Shuyao: “There are many things you could write. For instance, you could write books introducing Western geography, customs, and culture. Compiling and organizing Western scholarly subjects is also entirely feasible.”

Chen Yu agreed wholeheartedly: “Mother speaks truly.”

He never felt his wife was inferior to his younger sister—they simply excelled in different areas.

Being told this, Tang Wanxin’s face flushed red. Could women also publish books?

They certainly could, but throughout history, such instances were exceedingly rare.

If one wrote just for amusement, that was one thing. But publishing books to some degree also represented public exposure, and many people were unwilling to see such a spectacle.

But the Lin family did not mind.

Speaking of it, who wouldn’t wish that someday they too could leave their name for millennia?

Even if only circulated within a small sphere, that would still be a remarkable achievement. In the future, when people saw the book, they would know of her, know of Tang Wanxin.

“Then… your daughter-in-law will do her utmost!”

To write books, one could not lack ability.

For this, she devoted herself to research with great diligence, applying herself with no less effort than students preparing for the imperial examinations—perhaps even surpassing them.

Not long after, good news arrived from the capital: Yuan Ge’er’s wife had given birth to a son—the legitimate eldest grandson of this generation.

Hearing this good news, Tang Wanxin temporarily extracted herself from numerous books and hurriedly had people prepare gifts. Chen Yu: “I already had them sent in advance.”

Tang Wanxin felt somewhat ashamed: “I was wrong.” As mother-in-law, when her daughter-in-law’s pregnancy was advanced, she should have already prepared things in advance to be sent over. It wasn’t that they lacked anything there, but rather a matter of attitude—demonstrating importance.

If nothing had been received, the daughter-in-law’s heart would inevitably feel uneasy.

Chen Yu: “Why speak of wrong? I am also here.”

Hearing this, Tang Wanxin’s heart felt as sweet as honey, yet she also silently cautioned herself that she had been too absorbed recently. This was not good. This matter could not be resolved quickly—it would require a long time. She could not always have others help fill in her gaps.

From then on, she continued to devote herself to studying overseas books, but now with proper balance.

Time seemed to pass both quickly and slowly. As long as one had conviction in one’s heart, had purpose, and was doing what one wished to do, one easily failed to notice time’s passage.

Yun Shuyao gradually completed the other half of that painting—her younger self—then successively painted her children and grandchildren at the height of their vitality, as if their time had frozen in that instant.

She painted very slowly, spanning a long period. During this time, many things occurred.

Such as the fate of little granddaughter Qing Jie’er—one granddaughter married into the imperial clan, another married into the family of Chen Yu’s fellow scholar.

Both were carefully selected by Chen Yu and his wife.

Because their aunt was in the palace, their selection process was much easier to manage than before.

Then there was Yongzheng—his lifespan was ultimately not long. He had pushed himself too hard.

The things he wished to accomplish were too numerous. But human strength has its limits. He literally worked himself to death.

This transition of imperial power was without incident. Hongli succeeded to the throne smoothly.

Yongzheng was satisfied with this heir. In many respects, Hongli’s principles did not differ greatly from Yongzheng’s. Moreover, Hongli could see farther because he understood the outside world better.

Many things might not show results in the short term—only with time could one see the signs.

As the new emperor’s maternal family, the Lin family naturally enjoyed great prestige. When Kangxi had been alive, he had elevated his maternal family into “Half a Court of Tongs.” Now it was the Lin family. However, Chen Yu did not wish to emulate this and create “Half a Court of Lins.” He planned to follow his father’s example: once his son could stand independently and the new emperor’s position was secure, he could retire.

Moreover, the Lin family differed greatly from the Tong family. First was the Lin family’s population—this was a disadvantage that in certain circumstances could also be an advantage.

Seeing her son’s clear-headedness, not dizzy from the good news of becoming the emperor’s uncle, Yun Shuyao only cautioned: “Now that our family has reached this position, we naturally must be cautious in word and deed. And not just us—the Lin clan as well must be vigilant.”

They truly needed to keep watch there. Chen Yu composed his expression solemnly: “Yes, your son understands.”

Then Yun Shuyao let it go: “You remain in the capital. I’m going to tour various places and see how the new grain varieties differ across regions.” It was again time for her to seek treasure at the locations marked on the “Catalog of All Things.”

Chen Yu: “…”

He did not want Mother to travel. “Mother, you’re not young anymore. Running about everywhere is bad for your health.” His persuasion lacked conviction because Mother’s condition was better than his own. Whether in the past or present, he had never won at arm wrestling with her. How could he stop her? Yun Shuyao: “I understand my own body better than you do. When I can no longer walk, I won’t need you to tell me—I won’t go. I know you’re concerned about me. Rest assured. You remember to maintain your own health. No matter how busy with government affairs, also pay attention to the time. Don’t make me one day send off the black-haired while white-haired.” The late emperor’s cautionary example was right before them—they must learn from it.

Chen Yu: “…” He truly should take better care of himself.

Looking at Mother’s condition—let’s not have Mother be the one to send him off someday.

The lifespans of Lin family males through the generations did not allow him to be careless.

Thus Yun Shuyao left the capital again. Hongli even thoughtfully had people specially craft a carriage for her. The exterior appeared unremarkable, but inside it contained marvels. One could say it had achieved perfection for this era, maximizing the reduction of travel discomfort.

Yun Shuyao readily accepted this gift and efficiently departed the capital.

Then, even though Yun Shuyao was far away in the south, news of the Lin family head’s dedication to health preservation gradually reached her ears.

Well… how to put it? As long as he didn’t pursue questionable methods, health preservation was a good thing.

While she was away, her achievements did not cease. When Yun Shuyao reached her eighties, she was ennobled once again.

The improved varieties she had developed had doubled or tripled from before. With careful tending, yield per acre could reach around five hundred catties!

Who knew how many people had established longevity memorial tablets for her because of this.

Rewarding merit with due recognition, she was ennobled as duke, and the ducal title would only be reduced after five generations.

Before issuing the edict, Hongli had asked her preference: one option was to keep the marquis rank unchanged with hereditary succession, another was to be elevated to duke with reduction after five generations.

Yun Shuyao chose the second option.

Since he asked, it meant he did not wish to grant hereditary succession for the marquis rank. Why choose the former and provoke his wariness?

Yun Shuyao knew he was dissatisfied about her reputation among the common people.

Even though she was his grandmother, the position of emperor itself made one easily harbor hostility toward any existence that might threaten their rule.

Suspicion was an emperor’s instinct.

Moreover, Yun Shuyao herself did not have much confidence in this hereditary succession.

Even if the Qing Dynasty had begun opening its eyes to see the world, knowing there were many other countries outside, many people who would covet the prosperity of this land, being wary of the outside—this did not mean the Qing Dynasty could always rule this great land, keeping the people of this land forever oppressed under the mountain of feudalism.

Yun Shuyao held a skeptical attitude toward this.

However, she could not live that long and would not see that distant future. Now, she had already done everything she could do. She should also depart. If she continued living, she would have to watch her children and grandchildren walk ahead of her.

Yun Shuyao no longer wished to be the one who sent others off. She chose to leave proactively.

Her improvement of grain varieties had reached the utmost of what she could achieve. Her children’s futures need not concern her. The spirit mirror had completely recovered. In this world, she no longer had much attachment.

She wanted to try to see if she could return and look once more at that world that gave birth to and raised her.

Why would she have this thought?

Because the fully recovered spirit mirror could take her through once again. Moreover, the mirror had undergone a change that delighted her—inside the mirror, a space had appeared. The space was not large, only three cubic meters, but sufficient to stuff in some important things. Furthermore, because the spirit mirror was almost one with her, unlike a storage bag, she could take the things in the mirror space with her when she left.

She utilized these three cubic meters of space to the utmost, filling them with items. While the Lin family was still rejoicing over the elevation of their noble rank, calamitous news arrived.

This newly ennobled Duke Dingfeng had passed away.

Even the most hidebound who could not stand women rising to prominence, looking at their family’s granaries, had few who could speak ill. Now learning this terrible news, they could not help but shed tears, let alone the ordinary common people who relied solely on farmland to support their families with difficulty.

Cries of grief shook the heavens.

The entire city draped in white.

Listening to these cries, Hongli’s heart held complex, indescribable feelings—grief, but also a sense of relief. Yet inevitably he wondered: when one day he passed away, would the common people also weep for him so sincerely?

Deep in his heart, he already faintly had an answer, but he did not wish to continue pondering…

At this time, Yun Shuyao had already lost consciousness.

Traversing between worlds was a huge gamble. Because she had no coordinates, no anchor point, what world she might reach depended entirely on luck. Like her previous journey to the apocalyptic world—actually speaking of it, that too had been fortunate, because it was a world with vitality. Although dangerous, if luck wasn’t too bad, one could still survive.

Many worlds had no living beings. Once arriving in such worlds—death was all but certain.

Perhaps because of years of cultivation, her spiritual body had become resilient. At the beginning, Yun Shuyao still had sensation—feeling her soul body wrapped in the spirit mirror squeezing into a crevice. Within this crevice was pitch darkness. Occasionally she could sense some extremely dangerous presences. When the spirit mirror sensed them from afar, it would swiftly depart.

But sometimes, upon discovering danger, it could not be avoided.

Not knowing how long had passed, their luck ran out and they encountered an enormous colorful storm rapidly spreading through the darkness. Inside the spirit mirror, Yun Shuyao felt everything bizarre and dazzling, her soul body seemingly ready to explode. She had no choice but to close all six senses, completely falling into stupor. Before losing consciousness, she already had a premonition—the spirit mirror was slowly deteriorating. If they could not find a safe world crevice before serious damage occurred, there would be no afterward.

When Yun Shuyao regained consciousness again, it seemed a long time had already passed. Her body was wrapped in something, restrained, yet it was a reassuring restraint.

Wait, who am I?

Where am I?

Ah, I remember now…

Just remembering who she was took Yun Shuyao several months.

Then she learned where she was—she was actually in a womb, wrapped in amniotic fluid!

Although her eyes could not see, she instinctively knew she was not far from birth.

Had she reincarnated? Been reborn as human?!

Checking herself, she was still female. Where was her mirror?

Thinking of the mirror, her left wrist grew slightly warm. Touching it, nothing seemed amiss, but in her perception, her mirror was right there, merged into her bones and blood.

It was said the womb was one of the few times when innate energy existed. Could one cultivate here?

She tentatively began cultivating using the cultivation method “Changqing Jue” she had obtained after the spirit mirror fully recovered.

At that time, she had possessed a treasure mountain but could not cultivate. But now, she only tried, and a stream of innate energy was absorbed by her!

Yun Shuyao only felt her spiritual platform become even clearer. Moreover, faintly, she could also sense her birth mother’s movements.

However, after all, she was still very weak. Before long, she fell asleep again, but instinctively continued operating the cultivation method. Day by day, the innate energy grew increasingly robust, making her stronger and also benefiting her mother’s body.

The strength of innate energy made her perception more powerful—for instance, she could hear some sounds from outside. What Yun Shuyao most frequently heard was her mother’s gentle murmuring, which both delighted and puzzled Yun Shuyao.

“Baby, your daddy hasn’t returned yet. That sabertooth beast is said to be extremely formidable. I wonder if they successfully drove it back to the other realm.”

“If not, we’ll be in trouble.”

“Baby, you haven’t seen your daddy yet. Mommy tells you, he’s so handsome, and he’s a hero. Look, these are his photos and videos. Look at him—isn’t he very handsome?”

“Your daddy is very strong. When he was cultivating, he was the one with the most talent. He’ll definitely return safely.”

“Baby, shall we wait for him together?”

——

These words were all in Chinese. Moreover, photos and videos and such should be modern. But sabertooth beasts? Other realms?

Could this be a merged modern world? Or a modern world of spiritual energy revival?

Carrying various doubts, the time finally came when the fruit was ripe and ready to fall. Yun Shuyao very cooperatively gave birth.

Very smoothly—so smoothly that the delivering doctor smiled in surprise: “Congratulations, mother and daughter are both safe.”

Just seeing the child not crying, the doctor frowned, then skillfully patted the child’s foot. Yun Shuyao had no choice but to cry out: “Waaah—” Hearing the cry, the doctor nodded with satisfaction, checking small hands and feet. Then upon seeing the left hand, exclaimed in surprise: “Eh, this child has a birthmark on her wrist?”

A nurse leaned forward: “Ah, there really is. What do you all think it looks like?”

“Round, with some vague patterns on it.”

“A jade pendant?”

“No, I think it looks like a coin.”

“I actually think it looks like a mirror. Eh, look, she’s watching us. Her expression is so serious, as if she can understand what we’re saying.”

Author’s Note: The main text is complete, but the female lead’s life continues!