Yu Xiang’an felt as if she were struggling in a dream, surrounded by darkness, with something weighing heavily on her body. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t—her thin eyelids felt as though Mount Tai were pressing down on them.
It was eerily quiet around her, or perhaps too quiet—so quiet that it filled her with panic.
Was this a nightmare?
Why couldn’t she wake up?
Yu Xiang’an wanted to understand what was happening to her. Yes, what exactly had happened?
She struggled to recall, and then it came to her—she and Lin Chuanbai had grown old, lived their fill, and presumably died.
But if she was dead, why did she still have thoughts?
Was this what death felt like?
Alone in the darkness, with nothing around her, it was as if she were floating in the void of the universe.
No… there seemed to be something else. What was it?
Yu Xiang’an strained to listen. The sound was somewhat familiar yet strange. What was it?
Her spirits lifted—at least it wasn’t complete emptiness.
—
In the hospital, Zhang Junli stood excitedly by the hospital bed, watching the doctor examine her youngest daughter. Her daughter had been in a vegetative state for over a year. Initially, the doctors had said the chances of her waking up were slim—it would take a miracle. But no matter how unlikely, Zhang Junli refused to give up.
The human brain was so mysterious—perhaps her daughter just hadn’t recovered yet. With time and care, she might still wake up.
She would never give up.
The word “miracle” existed because it had happened before. She had researched other cases—some patients had woken up after years, even decades, in a coma. The odds were tiny, but who could say her daughter wouldn’t be the next miracle?
The cost of care wasn’t a concern either. Their family could afford it, but they didn’t even have to—the family of the little girl her daughter and another kind-hearted young man had saved was wealthy and insisted on covering all medical expenses.
The little girl had been playing in front of a store when a heavy billboard suddenly fell. In that critical moment, the two rushed to shield her but were struck on the head. The girl was only frightened, but the two rescuers lost consciousness and nearly died. After intense medical intervention, their vital signs stabilized, but they remained unresponsive.
Now, they lay in the same hospital room, separated by a curtain—her daughter on the right, the young man on the left.
After lying unconscious for so long, both had grown thin.
Watching the doctor examine her frail daughter, Zhang Junli could barely contain her excitement.
Earlier, while washing her daughter’s face, she had noticed subtle reactions—her eyeballs had moved, her brows had furrowed, and her hand had twitched.
She had immediately called the doctor.
Eyeball movements happened occasionally, but frowning was rare. Combined with the faint struggle on her face, could this mean her daughter was fighting to wake up?
She was nervous but hopeful.
After examining her, the doctor said, “This is a good sign. Any reaction is positive. Keep observing closely.”
He instructed the nurse, “Notify me immediately if there are any changes.”
Zhang Junli nearly burst into tears of joy.
Then the doctor checked the young man next door, but he remained unresponsive, as if asleep.
Zhang Junli shared the good news with the family. After work, Yu Xiang’an’s eldest brother and sister-in-law, her older sister, and her father all came to visit.
They took turns speaking to Yu Xiang’an.
Yu Jiaofang stood by the bed, rambling, “Xiao An, why are you still lying there? Dad won’t stop you from opening your restaurant anymore. But if you don’t want to, don’t blame me—you’re the one giving up. Hear me? Wake up and tell me.”
Her eldest brother, Yu Chaoyang, said, “Little sister, stop sleeping. You’ve slept enough. Weren’t you always so vain? Let me tell you, you’ve gotten a lot uglier. If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll get even uglier. Hurry up and recover so you can eat something good to regain your strength.”
Her older sister, Yu Yingxia, added, “Xiao An, I have a boyfriend now. Did you know? You said you’d vet him for me. How can you go back on your word?”
After speaking to her, they also went to the young man’s bedside and said a few words.
He was pitiful—he had no family. Aside from the nurses, only they ever spoke to him.
He was a good person, and good people deserved good outcomes. So they looked after him too.
There were hired caregivers, but they were paid to do a job and sometimes lacked attentiveness.
Sadly, despite their words, the young man remained unresponsive.
Yu Yingxia sighed, “Why isn’t Xiao An reacting at all? Mom, are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”
Zhang Junli smacked her lightly, “Don’t say such unlucky things! Of course I didn’t imagine it. Maybe she’s just tired. If we keep talking to her, she’ll wake up.”
Her sister-in-law, who had been watching Yu Xiang’an closely, suddenly gasped, “Look!”
On the bed, Yu Xiang’an’s pale face twitched—her eyeballs rolled slightly, and her eyelids fluttered as if trying to open but failing.
—
In the darkness, Yu Xiang’an was startled by the noise. She could hear voices, but they were too faint to make out. What were they saying?
She strained to listen, but it was like overhearing whispers from another room—so soft they could easily be missed.
Could they speak louder? Before she could hear clearly, the voices faded. Yu Xiang’an was disappointed. Would they return?
Because of her reaction, the family was overjoyed and agreed to visit daily to talk to her.
For Yu Xiang’an, the voices eventually returned, slightly clearer this time. Though still indistinct, she felt reassured—if the voices kept coming, she would eventually understand them.
She told herself to be patient. The frustration of hearing muffled voices, like a scrambled signal, was unbearable.
In the darkness, she had no sense of time.
Sometimes she “slept,” other times she “woke” to faint sounds.
Gradually, the voices grew louder. She could now catch fragments—words like “little sister,” “daughter,” and “wake up soon.”
These words, repeated often, made her heart tremble.
—
In the hospital room, Zhang Junli now spent every day waiting for a miracle. Her daughter’s reactions to external stimuli were increasing, especially when they spoke. The doctors were optimistic.
That day, as usual, she chatted with her daughter, “People have been asking when your restaurant will reopen. Your lease was for a year and a half—the shop’s still there untouched. You’d better wake up soon, or your dad and I won’t renew it…”
She also mentioned the young man next door, Lin Chuanbai.
“The doctor checked on him yesterday too. He’s improving, just like you. Both of you are lucky. Hurry and wake up—lying in bed must be boring, right?”
Just then, visitors arrived—a woman with flaxen wavy hair and a little girl, the child Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai had saved.
Zhou Zhou brought a fruit basket and two bouquets, placing them by the beds to freshen the air.
Seeing them, Zhang Junli’s expression was complicated.
As a mother, she couldn’t help but resent the situation. Her daughter had risked her life to save someone else. She wanted her to be a good person, but not at such a cost.
If she could go back, she’d stop her.
The little girl piped up sweetly, “Sister, brother, wake up soon! Niu Niu hasn’t thanked you properly yet. Niu Niu is so grateful you saved me.”
The child’s innocent words brought tears to Zhang Junli’s eyes.
This time, Yu Xiang’an heard clearly.
She now looked forward to these moments—hearing their voices was the highlight of her days.
She had pieced together her situation.
She never imagined she’d hear her family’s voices again, urging her to wake up. She was trying—she wanted to open her eyes, smile at them, and say, “I’m back.”
To let them know they didn’t need to grieve anymore.
She also learned about Lin Chuanbai—he was next to her, behind a curtain, in the same state. Like her, his reactions were growing stronger.
This comforted her. It seemed they had returned together.
Hearing the little girl’s voice, Yu Xiang’an thought, *Hello, I heard your thanks. Be careful when you play, okay?*
Lin Chuanbai heard the child too. His lips twitched, and his hand tensed as if trying to move.
But after the effort, his hand remained still—his strength was spent.
When he first regained awareness, he had felt trapped, wrapped in something. Was this death?
He tried to enter his spatial pocket but failed. He shouted—no response. He was still in this empty darkness.
If his medicinal garden space, which was bound to him, was inaccessible, either it was gone, or he was dead.
He leaned toward the latter—he must be dead.
But if so, why could he still think?
Did souls truly exist?
Where were the underworld guardians to take him away?
If he wasn’t dead, where were his children?
Slowly, he heard his own heartbeat—*thump, thump*—like a hibernating creature’s.
Strange. What state was he in?
Gradually, beyond his heartbeat, he discerned voices. He waited patiently until he could understand them.
They were unfamiliar voices, referring to him as “the young man” and to someone else as “Xiao An”—the person he knew best.
They had returned.
These were her family members.
At this realization, Lin Chuanbai felt as if he and Xiang’an must have saved humanity in a past life.
How else could they be granted such fortune twice?
Yet he was also uneasy. If he had returned, what about her?
When she woke, would she be the twenty-something-year-old from before, or the woman who had lived decades with him in another world?
—
When Yu Xiang’an finally opened her eyes, over ten days had passed since Zhou Zhou and her daughter’s visit.
Zhang Junli was trimming her nails, chatting, “Your nails have grown again. Look at your hands—so much paler than before. You’d be happy if you saw how fair you’ve become. Girls like being fair, but Mom thinks a healthy glow is prettier. Once you’re better, go out and get some sun…”
“Mom, I… will.”
Her voice was faint, each word deliberate.
Zhang Junli’s hand jerked. She looked up in shock, then touched her daughter’s weakly curving lips. Tears fell like beads as she roughly wiped them away and shouted, “Someone! Someone! My daughter’s awake!”
She was a surgeon herself but forgot the call button in her excitement.
Doctors swarmed in for examinations. Every awakening from a vegetative state was a miracle—the longer the coma, the rarer the recovery. Over a year was a small miracle.
She was having difficulty speaking now, so the doctor asked her to blink to indicate yes or no.
Zhang Junli stood on the periphery. She was also a doctor, but a surgeon—this wasn’t her field, so she couldn’t interfere.
Yu Xiang’an looked at her through the doctors, her eyes crinkling into a smile. Before long, her eyelids grew heavy, and the doctor noticed, telling her to rest.
“You just woke up, and your body is still very weak. Sleep if you want to—don’t push yourself. Don’t worry, your condition is very optimistic. Don’t put psychological pressure on yourself.”
Before long, Yu Xiang’an fell into a deep sleep again, but Zhang Junli’s mood was now completely different from before.
She felt like she was riding a roller coaster—soaring through the clouds, taking in the grandeur of mountains and rivers, her heart filled with boundless tenderness.
Her youngest daughter had really woken up!
Everyone stepped out of the ward to talk so as not to disturb Yu Xiang’an’s sleep. The moment they left, Zhang Junli clasped her hands together in prayer. She had never been one to believe in gods or buddhas, but now she was willing to worship them all. “Amitabha, Guanyin, God—thank you for your blessings, thank you, thank you!”
Her daughter had finally woken up!
Then it hit her, and she immediately called Yu Jiaofang and the others.
Yu Jiaofang rushed over as soon as he got the call. Looking at his youngest daughter sleeping in bed, he couldn’t help but wipe his reddened eyes and patted Zhang Junli’s back to comfort her. “Xiao An is awake now, and the doctor said she’ll be fine. She just needs to recover. Once she’s better, she’ll be as strong as ever.”
Though it was a shame he couldn’t see his daughter wake up and interact with him in person, she had woken up after just one sleep. If he waited here, he’d see it eventually.
Yu Chaoyang looked at his sister’s emaciated figure and took a deep breath. “It’s good that she’s awake, it’s good that she’s awake.”
…
Lin Chuanbai opened his eyes the day after Yu Xiang’an woke up. He stared at the stark white ceiling, breathing in the scent of disinfectant, then turned his head with difficulty to look toward the hospital bed.
The curtain between them had been removed when Yu Xiang’an woke up, so he strained to turn his head, but his body was stiff and uncooperative.
Zhang Junli, who had been talking to her daughter facing his direction, noticed and gasped. This time, she remembered to press the call button to summon the doctor.
“The young man next door is awake too!”
Yu Xiang’an slowly turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met, and she smiled, her eyes crinkling.
It was wonderful—it was *him/her*!
Their gazes held a silent understanding before they quickly looked away.
For now, they couldn’t show any familiarity. They were still supposed to be strangers—there was no reason for them to know each other.
The two of them waking up one after the other drew quite a crowd.
This entire floor was filled with patients who had lost consciousness for various reasons—some had given up, while others, like Zhang Junli and her family, had persisted.
They came seeking good fortune, hoping their loved ones would wake up just like them.
Zhou Zhou also came with her daughter, Niu Niu. The little girl immediately took Yu Xiang’an’s hand and said, “Sister, Mommy told me you woke up—you and the brother both woke up! There’s something I *have* to tell you: I’m so, so grateful to you! I’ll remember this forever and ever!”
Zhou Zhou also expressed her sincere gratitude.
Yu Xiang’an shook her head. “It was just instinct. I would’ve done the same for anyone else.”
After they left, Zhang Junli sighed. “Thank goodness the people you saved had a conscience. When the accident happened, they called the ambulance right away—no time was wasted, and you got surgery in time. Over this past year, they’ve spent quite a bit of money.”
Yu Xiang’an smiled but didn’t say anything.
She had learned more by now. Her mother had originally been a busy surgeon, but she had voluntarily transferred to a less demanding department to have more time to care for her.
Her mother had loved her job, but now she had given it up, and her work had changed entirely.
Her father was still managing the traditional Chinese medicine clinic while continuing to study, hoping that the more he learned, the more he might be able to help her.
Then there were her older brother and sister, both in the medical field. Yu Xiang’an knew just how demanding that profession was, yet for all this time, they had visited her every week.
It took every ounce of her self-control not to break down in tears.
Being older and having experienced more had its advantages—she was much better at managing her emotions now.
“Mom, I’ve been lying in this hospital bed for so long—I’ve missed so much. Tell me, what’s happened?”
Zhang Junli’s expression softened. “Of course. What do you want to hear first? Let’s start with your sister. Her boyfriend actually has a bit of a connection to you—she asked a classmate for recommendations, and her classmate introduced him. They got to know each other over time…”
Yu Xiang’an shot a smiling glance at Lin Chuanbai, who was listening nearby.
This was something he’d have to deal with sooner or later—better to learn about it now to make things easier later.
The two of them were slowly adapting to their bodies. At first, they couldn’t even walk, relearning everything step by step like infants.
Fortunately, they hadn’t been bedridden for too long.
Those who had been in a coma for years often suffered from severe muscle atrophy.
Since waking up, Yu Xiang’an had been in high spirits. Even though relearning to walk and adjusting to her body was painful, she was *back*!
She had seen her parents, her older brother and sister again!
And it hadn’t been too long—she was back in her twenties, in the prime of her youth.
A young body was full of vitality. Feeling her strength return bit by bit, she reveled in the lightness of youth.
Having experienced the frailty of old age, the contrast made her feel almost weightless.
Lin Chuanbai felt the same. The two of them were often together, and to Zhang Junli and the others, they had naturally grown close.
During rehabilitation, they frequently encouraged each other and talked. It wasn’t strange—shared hardship created bonds, and how many people in life had experiences like theirs?
When they were alone, Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an exchanged information and discovered another delightful detail—Yu Xiang’an’s game farm and Lin Chuanbai’s medicinal garden space had followed them back.
They had previously cleared out some items from their spaces but had also stocked up on supplies, just in case they encountered another extraordinary situation where those items might be useful.
Yu Xiang’an’s warehouse was filled with all sorts of things—food, water, clothes, seeds, medicine, and more. These were preparations for worlds with scarce resources or apocalyptic scenarios. For peaceful times, she had also prepared money—RMB, USD, euros, and other currencies, totaling several million. There were also calligraphy and paintings, porcelain, and, most importantly, gold bars, gemstones, and other hard assets.
The paper money couldn’t be used directly—serial numbers might cause issues, making them counterfeit—but the gold, silver, and gemstones were safe.
They just needed to make a trip out of town and find a way to liquidate them.
For them, that was easy.
Because of their unusual familiarity, Zhang Junli sometimes found it odd.
They didn’t talk much, but when they did, they often seemed to communicate in half-sentences. She’d wait for the rest, only to realize—that was it?!
She didn’t understand, but the two of them clearly did. The conversation was already over.
Was this some kind of generation gap between her and young people?
She didn’t have this issue when talking to her older children.
Could it be that these two had some other connection she didn’t know about?
Yu Yingxia, being more perceptive, pulled her aside and asked teasingly, “Have you and that young man taken a liking to each other?”
Her tone was light, but her sister didn’t react with embarrassment at all. Instead, she nodded seriously. “Yeah, Sis, you noticed?”
Yu Yingxia: ???
Wasn’t this a bit too sudden?
“You’ve only known him for a short while. Do you really understand him? Do you know his personality?”
Yu Xiang’an thought to herself: *I know him better than anyone. We’ve been through thick and thin together for so long—of course I know him.* But outwardly, she just smiled sweetly. “Sis, do you believe in love at first sight? Honestly, I felt something the first time I saw him. I want to get to know him better—that’s how I’ll learn who he really is. You know a lot of people—help me vet him, observe his character?”
Yu Yingxia: “…”
She had no problem helping her sister assess a potential partner, but why did she feel like her sister wasn’t telling her everything?
Their rehabilitation was a success.
Some coma patients woke up with lingering aftereffects—slowed reactions, uncoordinated movements, and the like. The two of them had none of those issues.
When they were discharged, their attending physician remarked that their recovery was remarkable.
On the day of their discharge, Zhang Junli went out of her way to prepare a basin of fire and pomelo leaves to ward off bad luck. Since the young man next door had no family, she prepared a set for him too.
Yu Xiang’an’s heart ached with tenderness.
Her mother had never been one for such rituals before—she had been a staunch materialist.
Yu Xiang’an obediently followed the steps, then they went to a nearby hotel for a celebratory meal.
Zhang Junli invited the young man from next door as well.
Having shared such an ordeal and recovered together, their bond was undeniable.
After the meal, they all went their separate ways. Yu Xiang’an was now her parents’ precious treasure—they wouldn’t let her lift a finger, even though they knew she was fine. She didn’t rush things either, staying home to soothe her parents’ anxious hearts.
After staying home for nearly two months, her parents finally stopped calling her constantly whenever she stepped out.
By then, Lin Chuanbai had already traveled out of town to liquidate some assets, giving him a decent amount of cash.
His top priority now was to buy a house—otherwise, how could he have the nerve to ask for their daughter’s hand?
For Zhang Junli and Yu Jiaofang, life had finally returned to a long-missed peace.
Their youngest daughter had recovered, been discharged, rested at home, and was now reopening her private kitchen. Their eldest son was independent, and their eldest daughter’s relationship was stable. The only one left unattached was their youngest.
And then, their youngest daughter brought home that “fellow sufferer” young man…
Yu Jiaofang: “…”
This was so sudden. The last untouched cabbage in their garden was about to be claimed by a pig.
Zhang Junli’s gaze toward Lin Chuanbai shifted. So her earlier suspicions had been right—the two had taken a liking to each other back then. She kept a smile on her face but immediately began probing into Lin Chuanbai’s background.
If he was going to be her son-in-law, she needed to know what kind of person he was.
Everyone knew he had no close family, but what about everything else?
The results were acceptable.
He was an alumnus of her daughter’s school, had just bought an apartment in the new development across the street (with a down payment, though he still had a mortgage), and had money in the stock market, so loan payments weren’t a burden. He was also planning to pursue a master’s degree, which wouldn’t interfere with starting a family.
Studying was a good thing.
Yu Xiang’an’s older siblings had a Ph.D. and a master’s degree—hardly surprising, given their medical backgrounds.
They had originally wanted Yu Xiang’an to pursue further studies too, but she had refused.
Now that their future son-in-law wanted to, they could only support him.
Despite his preparations, Lin Chuanbai was sweating under the barrage of questions.
Some details were just too far in the past—he genuinely couldn’t remember.
Yu Xiang’an watched from the side, ready to “fill in the gaps.” If there was something he couldn’t recall, she smoothly redirected the conversation.
Once Lin Chuanbai passed the test, he was met with the classic “mother-in-law’s gaze”—the more she looked, the more pleased she was.
Yu Jiaofang didn’t say anything either.
What could he say? A grown daughter couldn’t be kept at home forever. He saw right through the topic changes but chose to play dumb—after all, the young man seemed decent, and his financial situation wouldn’t leave his daughter struggling.
Lin Chuanbai exhaled quietly and exchanged a glance with Yu Xiang’an. Both of them couldn’t help but laugh.
Who would’ve thought that after all these years as an old married couple, they’d get to relive the nervous suitor meeting the parents?
Once they had her parents’ approval, the two of them spent more time together. To her parents, it was just young love blossoming.
Lin Chuanbai buried himself in books, reviewing for exams.
His current knowledge level wasn’t just master’s degree material—he could probably mentor Ph.D. students. But his academic record was clear, and he couldn’t explain such a sudden leap in ability. He needed a plausible reason.
Switching fields was tough, but his exam results would speak for themselves. Once he started classes and received guidance, his knowledge wouldn’t stand out as much.
Meanwhile, Yu Xiang’an reopened her private kitchen while dabbling in the stock market. The stock market was unpredictable.
Here, seasoned brokers could make fortunes, but newcomers had the same opportunity.
One moment, soaring profits; the next, devastating losses.
If she made money here, people would simply chalk it up to luck—no one would look deeper.
Though many details differed across parallel worlds, the broader trends remained consistent.
She had lived through multiple bull and bear markets.
There was a major market crash coming up soon, and she used the several million Lin Chuanbai had obtained from selling gemstones as capital to short-sell.
If something originally worth 100 was contracted to be sold at a certain price by a set date, and its value plummeted to 1 by then, she could buy it at that price to fulfill the contract, pocketing the 99 difference.
This was just an example—she didn’t make *that* much, but she still multiplied her initial investment over twentyfold.
She didn’t stop there, continuing to seek opportunities to grow her capital. What seemed like a lot now was, to some, just the cost of a few luxury cars or a few rounds of gambling.
Money isn’t everything, but without money, you can’t do anything. Their journey in this life still has a long way to go…
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage