Chapter 3:

The delicate and exquisite pavilions and towers, surrounded by green willows in the courtyard, exuded a unique tranquility and beauty.

A sharp voice suddenly pierced the peaceful atmosphere, “Qin Xianxian, how long has it been since you last saw Father? Oh dear, look at me—how could I bring up such a painful topic for my dear sister? Hehehe…” Covering her mouth with a handkerchief, she giggled softly. Had it not been for the venom in her words, she might have appeared as a gentle and lovely young lady. Unfortunately, her demeanor betrayed her true nature.

The girl named Qin Xianxian remained engrossed in her book, her head still bowed, her eyelids unmoving, showing not the slightest ripple of emotion. It was as if she hadn’t heard the mocking words directed at her.

Watching Qin Xianxian ignore her, Qin Chuchu seethed with anger, her eyes filled with malice as if she wished to pierce through the girl with her gaze. She was nothing more than a neglected daughter, someone Qin Chuchu could trample upon at will. How irritating it was to see her feigning indifference all the time!

But Qin Chuchu wouldn’t give up this little amusement. Hmph, so what if she was the legitimate daughter? In the end, she was still beneath a mere concubine-born like herself!

Qin Chuchu’s maid, Cuiliu, eagerly chimed in, “Exactly! How could Miss Xianxian compare to you? You’re the most beloved daughter of the master!”

She even raised her fingers in a delicate gesture, disdainfully pointing at Qin Xianxian, making her contempt and loyalty abundantly clear.

Flattered by her maid, Qin Chuchu felt a surge of satisfaction. The one thing she hated most in life was her status as a concubine-born daughter, and that hatred extended to Qin Xianxian, who had stolen her rightful place as the legitimate daughter. Despite being less favored, Qin Xianxian still held that title, always pretending to be aloof and unaffected. Qin Chuchu couldn’t stand her!

Seeing that Qin Xianxian remained unresponsive, Qin Chuchu grew bored. Suddenly, she remembered that today was the day of the Hundred Flowers Banquet hosted by Princess Changping, where she would also have the chance to see the dashing Prince Qin.

At the thought, Qin Chuchu could no longer stay. Prince Qin was far more enticing than tormenting Qin Xianxian. She waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go. I’ll visit my ‘dear sister’ again tomorrow!”

After Qin Chuchu left, the girl who had been calmly reading finally lowered her book and gazed out the window at the spring scenery in the courtyard. Spring had come again. She wondered how her life would unfold from here.

She missed her mother…

Qin Xianxian was the legitimate daughter of the Qin family. Once, she had lived a blissful life, doted on by her loving parents. But everything changed when she was five. Her mother, the legitimate daughter of a high-ranking official, had married her father out of love. Their early years together had been harmonious, but as the saying goes, “Loyal women often meet faithless men.” After Qin Xianxian turned five, her father’s affections gradually shifted. Unable to bear the change in her husband, her mother fell into despair, consumed by sorrow until she became gravely ill. She passed away when Qin Xianxian was eight.

From then on, Qin Xianxian became an invisible presence in the Qin household, forgotten by all. She spent the next twelve years in this quiet courtyard. If not for her half-sister’s constant provocations, she might have even forgotten that she was once the eldest daughter of the Qin family.

~

The sky was dark, the surroundings silent except for the occasional chirping of insects. In the pitch-black room, the figure lying on the bed suddenly opened her eyes. Qin Chaoyu slowly sat up. Why had she dreamed of her past life? What was happening to her?

She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear her mind.

Oh!

Right—where was her master? She still needed to tend to her ailing master. How could she have slept for so long?

Qin Chaoyu bolted upright, but the sudden movement made her dizzy. Her body swayed slightly, but that didn’t stop her from rushing to her master’s room.

She flung the door open—only to find it empty.

She collapsed to the floor. So… it hadn’t been an illusion after all.

Qin Chaoyu let out a low, bitter laugh. How foolish of her. Why couldn’t she accept reality? They were all gone… all gone.

Someone like her didn’t deserve true happiness.

In a daze, Qin Chaoyu recalled the day she buried her master.

The weather had been fitting—a light drizzle, the rustling of leaves in the wind… She had dug a grave with care, neither too big nor too small, then reverently laid her master to rest in the earth she had shaped. She had chosen the spot meticulously—a beautiful place with mountains and water, one her master would have loved.

She didn’t know how long she had knelt there—perhaps an hour, perhaps just a few minutes—before standing up. She needed to sort through her master’s belongings, preserving them carefully. They were the last things he had left behind.

Qin Chaoyu began by thoroughly cleaning the house, leaving no corner untouched.

Then she opened a drawer to organize its contents when her gaze froze on a letter. It was addressed: “To my disciple, Chaoyu.”

For… for her!

She carefully unfolded the letter.

After reading it, the tears Qin Chaoyu had held back while burying her master, the tears she had suppressed when facing the reality of his passing, now fell freely, one after another, tracing paths down her cheeks.

Master… Master… I’ll follow your wishes. I’ll go to Yuzhou, attend the university you arranged for me, and restore our sect’s reputation!

Wiping her tears, Qin Chaoyu continued sorting through the belongings.

By the time she finished, it was already noon. Though grief still weighed on her heart, her resolve had strengthened after reading her master’s letter. She headed to the kitchen to prepare lunch. She needed to take care of herself—her master would be watching over her from above, like a mother.

In the kitchen, Qin Chaoyu spotted the box her master had handed her on his last day. She had completely forgotten about it after bringing it here.

As she picked it up—”Ah!”—something sharp on the box sliced her hand, and blood immediately began to flow.

She tried to drop the box to find herbs to stop the bleeding, but no matter how she shook her hand, the box wouldn’t fall. It was as if it had glued itself to her skin. Worse, she felt her blood draining faster, as though something was absorbing it!

Panic surged through her. What was this box? Even using her inner strength couldn’t pry it loose.

As more blood was lost, Qin Chaoyu’s face grew pale. Was she going to die like this, drained by this cursed object?

No!

She hadn’t fulfilled her master’s wishes yet!

Perhaps sensing her determination, the box suddenly fell from her hand, cracking open upon impact. A jade thumb ring tumbled out, its emerald-green hue dazzlingly beautiful.

Qin Chaoyu hesitated to touch it after the bizarre ordeal. She had never encountered anything so eerie.

But the ring gave her no time to hesitate. A blinding white light erupted from it, forcing her to shut her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself in an unfamiliar place—one so breathtaking it seemed otherworldly, shrouded in an ethereal mist. Before her stood a bamboo house, strikingly similar to the one she had shared with her master, filling her with a sense of familiarity.

An inexplicable pull drew her toward the bamboo house. Inside hung a portrait of a stunning woman, her beauty surpassing even Qin Chaoyu’s own. Before the portrait lay another letter. Qin Chaoyu picked it up.

After reading it, she understood.

This was the legendary divine sanctuary, and the jade ring was the key to entering it. The conditions for entry were stringent—only those with a unique fate, those who had “died yet lived again,” and possessed unshakable willpower could enter. Qin Chaoyu, reborn in this life, fit the criteria perfectly. The ring, sensing a suitable candidate, had cut her hand, absorbed her blood, and opened this space.

This sanctuary was the secret of the Divine Physician Valley, the key to its revival. It housed countless lost medical texts and rare herbs. The woman in the portrait was the valley’s founder.

Grateful for this divine gift, Qin Chaoyu knelt before the portrait and kowtowed three times.

As she rose, she felt an inexplicable connection to the space—as if she were its deity, capable of traversing its expanse in an instant.

Exiting the sanctuary, Qin Chaoyu felt a pang of regret. If only it had appeared sooner, perhaps her master wouldn’t have left her.

Shaking off her melancholy, she returned to preparing lunch.

After eating, exhaustion set in. The ordeal had drained her physically and mentally, and the blood loss left her weak.

Recovering fully would take time. Calculating the months until her university began—three months remained—she decided to leave a month early. The next two months would be spent recuperating.

This world was vastly different from her past life. Women could attend school, live independently, and held equal status to men. Qin Chaoyu found this deeply satisfying. In her previous life, books had been her only solace during her neglected years. She loved reading, immersing herself in the thoughts of authors, feeling a fleeting sense of freedom and happiness.

In this life, studying medicine under her master had kept her from experiencing school life, a regret she carried. Yet, given the choice again, she would likely make the same decision.

In truth, Qin Bingwen had worried for her future. His disciple was brilliant, with a rare talent for learning. To nurture her gifts, he had kept her from wasting time in conventional schooling. But after his passing, he couldn’t bear the thought of her wasting away in the mountains. Over eighteen years, he had raised her as his own child. How could he let her live a dull, unfulfilled life? Thus, in his final moments, he had urged her to revive their sect and arranged for her to attend university in Yuzhou.

Ah, such is the heart of a parent.