Taking the delicate porcelain spoon from Qi Biao and holding it over the soup bowl he was carrying, Mama Liu dipped the spoon lightly into the bowl, scooped up a small amount of broth, and brought it close to her nose. She inhaled deeply and said, “Mmm, it smells wonderful. It seems the soup was made differently today—the flavor is unlike before. Come, Sixth Miss, have a taste. Isn’t it delicious?”
She then moved the spoon beneath Lin Fang’s nose, paused briefly, and lowered it to gently touch her lips. Softly coaxing, she said, “Would you like some, Sixth Miss? If you do, just open your mouth, and I’ll feed you. But we must agree in advance—you can’t have too much, lest your little belly gets too full and you feel uncomfortable later.”
Despite Mama Liu’s coaxing, Lin Fang remained unresponsive. Qi Biao grew anxious, but Mama Liu remained calm. She stirred the spoon in the soup bowl a few more times, this time scooping a slightly larger portion, and brought it to Lin Fang’s lips again. “Sixth Miss, if you don’t drink it soon, the soup will get cold. Didn’t you always prefer it warm? You once said that if it cools or is reheated, it loses its true flavor. If you don’t drink it now, we’ll have to remake it, and that would be such a waste. You always said wasting food is the worst—would you really let this soup go to waste?”
Whether it was Mama Liu’s words that worked or Lin Fang was on the verge of waking, Qi Biao, who had been watching intently, noticed Lin Fang’s chin tremble slightly, followed by a faint quiver of her lips. Mama Liu saw it too and quickly scooped another small spoonful. Seizing the moment when Lin Fang’s lips parted slightly, she poured the broth in. Though most of it spilled out, a little still made it into her mouth. Lin Fang slowly inhaled, her upper body shifting slightly, and her throat moved—she had swallowed the broth.
And so, between coaxing and feeding, half a bowl of soup was eventually consumed before Lin Fang stopped opening her mouth. Mama Liu, exhausted and panting, estimated that only a few spoonfuls had actually made it into Lin Fang’s stomach. She slipped her hand under the blanket, gently massaging Lin Fang’s belly a few times before settling her back down. Then she climbed off the kang, tucked Lin Fang in, and motioned for Qi Biao to follow her outside.
Once in the courtyard, Qi Biao looked at Mama Liu with confusion, waiting for her to speak.
Mama Liu knew Qi Biao well—she had practically raised him. Without wasting time, she said bluntly, “When Sixth Miss was little, she would also fall into deep sleep for days at a time. But unlike most unconscious patients, she could still eat. She could take food on her own, though only a few bites at a time. During the day, she needed to be fed at least six times, and twice more at night.”
Qi Biao had been reluctant to leave Lin Fang’s side, but seeing the look in Mama Liu’s eyes, he sensed she had something important to say. Knowing she had been Lin Fang’s closest caretaker and understood her habits better than anyone, he followed her out, though his gaze kept drifting back to the doorway. Only when Mama Liu finished speaking did he turn his full attention to her.
Mama Liu continued, “Once, out of curiosity, I asked the old monk why Sixth Miss could still eat while unconscious. He said that people like her usually suffered greatly in their past lives, struggling just to survive. Though they don’t remember their past lives after reincarnation, the lingering remnants of those experiences make them cherish their current life deeply, with an exceptionally strong will to live. That’s why they behave this way.”
Seeing Qi Biao’s expression shift from shock to anguish, Mama Liu sighed. “I don’t know what happened between you and Sixth Miss to bring her to this state. But from what I’ve observed, her feelings for you go beyond mere sibling affection. Forgive my bluntness, but I suspect yours for her are no different. I shouldn’t be the one to say this, but I’m no longer able to care for Sixth Miss alone.”
With that, Mama Liu knelt before Qi Biao and kowtowed. “I beg you, Young Master Qi, to show my lady more kindness. If only she can recover, I’d gladly give my life in return.”
As Mama Liu knelt, Qi Biao’s heart sank. He closed his eyes in pain, then opened them and said gravely, “Fang’er’s suffering is all because of me. Mama Liu, please rise. I don’t deserve your bow.” With that, he turned and went back inside.
After Qi Biao left, Tan Si helped Mama Liu to her feet. The two entered the kitchen in silence, where Mama Liu began preparing Lin Fang’s next meal while Tan Si went out to gather ingredients as instructed.
For the next few days, Mama Liu coaxed Lin Fang into awareness during the day, after which Qi Biao would feed her liquid meals—six times daily. At night, Qi Biao held Lin Fang as he tried to coax her himself. Whether due to his clumsy words or Lin Fang’s subconscious resistance, she ate less than when Mama Liu fed her, but she still managed a few bites.
At midday, Qi Biao still administered the medicine through mouth-to-mouth feeding. Since her acupoints had been unsealed, Lin Fang could now open her mouth and swallow on her own, albeit slowly. Much less was wasted, and her complexion visibly improved.
Three days passed with no sign of Lin Fang waking. Qi Biao, who had initially held onto hope, was now frantic. He and his men redoubled their efforts to find an exit while still ensuring Lin Fang was fed and medicated. He spent his days searching and his nights restless, his heart tormented far more than during wartime, despite the lack of immediate danger.
Back when Lin Fang had been poisoned, there had been an additional evening dose of medicine—far more complex in preparation and brewing than the daytime one. Master Shen had always brewed it himself. Though Qi Biao knew the prescription, he didn’t know the exact method. If brewed incorrectly, the consequences ranged from Lin Fang sleeping forever to instant death.
Now, without this medicine, Lin Fang remained unconscious. The longer this dragged on, the slimmer her chances of waking became.
That night, Qi Biao held Lin Fang close, murmuring, “Fang’er, please wake up. However you want to punish me, I’ll accept it. Even if you demand my life, I won’t hesitate. Just wake up, Fang’er. Please wake up.”
“Amitabha, Great General. The two of you are now separated by lifetimes. Even if you give your life, it will be useless.”
“Master, what do you mean? Fang’er is only unconscious—how can you say we’re separated by lifetimes?”
The old monk’s sudden appearance didn’t startle Qi Biao. Seeing the faint glow around him, Qi Biao knew the monk had transcended—whether he’d ascended to immortality was unclear, but he was certainly no ordinary mortal monk.
“Alas, since things have come to this, there’s no harm in telling you the truth. Fang’er was originally a soul from another world. By chance, she possessed the body of a Lin family infant who had already died—one who shared her name. But she retained memories of her past life. Her childhood episodes of deep sleep were due to her soul shifting between worlds. Though I used my powers to erase some of her most painful memories, my abilities at the time weren’t enough to remove them completely. When faced with heart-wrenching suffering, her soul would still drift away. The reason Fang’er still breathes now, as if asleep, is because she clings fiercely to this life, unwilling to let go.”
Qi Biao was speechless. Lin Fang’s behavior, so unlike that of an ordinary girl, suddenly made sense. She had never truly been an infant—the original child had been drowned by her grandmother. No wonder he’d always felt her gaze as a child was far too knowing.
The Lin family’s enterprises—knitwear, woolen clothing, black fungus cultivation—none of these existed in this dynasty. He’d once assumed the family had been inspired by Lin Fang’s playful curiosity, but now he realized she had deliberately introduced them.
Fearing she’d be seen as a monster, she had used indirect methods, letting others bring her ideas to life. She had lived with extreme caution, so much so that she’d nearly withered away, never daring to speak of her reincarnation.
Unfazed by Qi Biao’s turmoil, the old monk continued, “Fang’er came to this world because her husband and mother-in-law poisoned her with a slow-acting toxin. The poison was so potent it followed her soul into this life—the same poison you neutralized years ago with your blood, using poison to counter poison. The memories I erased were of her unbearable married life. Yet though you cured her poison, your antidote—itself a toxin—drove her soul from her body. Now, she has been reborn in her past life. You and she are separated by lifetimes.”
As the old monk spoke, Qi Biao’s heart twisted in agony. Clutching Lin Fang tighter, he asked hoarsely, “Is there any way to bring her back?”
“There is. Your soul must leave your body and journey to the past life where Fang’er has been reborn. You must win back her heart. But time is limited.”
“How?” Qi Biao felt his heart might shatter from the pain.
“I will separate your soul from your body. Your determination will guide you to Fang’er’s past life. Remember—you have at most seven days. Due to the flow of time between worlds, this will translate to seven years in her world. If you fail to win her heart within that time, Fang’er in this world will stop breathing, her soul lost forever. Your soul will then return automatically.”
Qi Biao said resolutely, “A life without Fang’er is worse than death. I will bring her back. If I fail, I’ll destroy myself in that other world—my soul will not return.”
The old monk, now detached from worldly emotions, still felt a pang at Qi Biao’s determination. After all, he had watched both grow up. He warned, “Fang’er in her past life had a photographic memory and extraordinary intelligence. Her family was the same as in this life—parents and two older brothers—but she was plain in appearance. Spoiled by her family, she was naive and unworldly. However, unlike in this life, she suffered from a severe congenital heart condition that could take her life at any moment. Remember this well.”
Qi Biao nodded solemnly. “I will heed your guidance, Master.”
He asked, “How will I find Fang’er in that world?”
The old monk clasped his hands. “If fate wills it, you’ll meet across a thousand miles. If not, you’ll pass each other unknowingly.”
Impatient, Qi Biao said, “Master, please begin.”
As soon as he spoke, the old monk’s aura blazed brilliantly. Qi Biao felt himself floating upward, catching only a glimpse of his own body still embracing Lin Fang before darkness swallowed him. Even his night vision failed. Gradually, his consciousness faded.
As the glow faded, the old monk muttered to himself, “Stubborn boy. If you fail to bring Fang’er back and ruin my chance to cook exotic dishes from her otherworldly recipes, I’ll make sure you regret it—emperor or prince, I’ll torment you to no end. Heh. After two lifetimes of suffering, Fang’er’s temperament will have changed. Let’s see how easily you find her.”
The mischievous grin on his face bore no resemblance to the profound sage of moments before—he was once again the playful, gluttonous old monk.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage