Lu Qianqiao had fainted and hadn’t woken up since.
The way Si Lan and Li Yan looked at her made Xin Mei feel as if she had died many times over…
And so, that night, for the first time in her sixteen years—Xin Mei had a nightmare.
She dreamed she had been captured by a group of War Ghosts and forced to be buried alive, stuffed into a cold stone coffin, lying side by side with the dead Lu Qianqiao, his body icy and stiff.
She remembered lightly tracing her fingers over his familiar features, only for her fingertips to meet not warm skin, but the coldness unique to the dead.
That chilling sensation seemed to pierce through her skin, straight into her heart.
Xin Mei jolted awake in terror, her vision blurred and damp, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Dazed, she hugged the blanket and sat up, her throat clogged as if something were stuck there, making it hard to breathe. She was even a little frightened by her own reaction, sitting in stunned silence for a long while.
Suddenly, the tent flap was lifted, and Si Lan walked in, his face ashen. “Get up! The general’s… the general’s mother has arrived.”
…Was she here to settle the score? Xin Mei’s rare moment of vulnerability instantly plunged her heart into an abyss. Come to think of it, Lu Qianqiao might have been fine if not for her—what if that rock she threw had caused some unforeseen accident?
After hastily freshening up, she stepped out of her small tent and saw a snow-white carriage parked in front of Lu Qianqiao’s tent.
This was where she first met Lu Qianqiao’s mother, who was nothing like she had imagined.
Li Chao Yang was dressed in pristine white, stepping down from the carriage with an air of quiet grace. Her jet-black hair and brows made her seem as if she were sculpted from ice and snow.
Xin Mei had assumed all War Ghosts had red-eyed Double Pupils, but that wasn’t the case. Only those under twenty-five had red eyes. Once they successfully passed their Transformation Tribulation, their appearance became indistinguishable from ordinary humans—only when their killing intent surged would the crimson of blood erupt in their eyes.
Before entering the tent, Li Chao Yang seemed to glance back at her, though Xin Mei couldn’t be sure. The woman’s expression was too hollow, too absent, as if veiled in mist, making it impossible to discern her true emotions.
Behind her was the long-unseen Li Min, glaring daggers at Xin Mei—he still remembered the humiliation of being knocked out by a handful of Sichuan pepper powder in the Imperial Mausoleum.
Uneasy, Xin Mei glanced at Si Lan beside her and asked, “Do you think… cough … that Lu Qianqiao might fail his Transformation Tribulation because I hit him with that rock?”
Si Lan kept a straight face. “I don’t know.”
“…Just say ‘It’s not your fault’! I’m worried, guilty, sad, and desperate right now!”
“I don’t know.”
Xin Mei could only pout and turn her anxious gaze back to the tent, her brows furrowed with worry.
Inside the tent, Li Yan carefully turned the unconscious Lu Qianqiao over, pointing indignantly at the lump on the back of his head. “Madam, look—this is where the general was hit by the rock. That’s why he fainted.”
At the time, the young master had been surging with power, reveling in the blood-soaked frenzy of a War Ghost’s rebirth… and then a rogue rock came flying, shattering it all!
Li Chao Yang said nothing, merely sitting gently by the bedside. She pulled on a pair of snow-white silk gloves and lightly touched Lu Qianqiao’s forehead.
His body was still warm, his breathing steady, his skin reacting to her touch—his senses should have returned. Yet, he remained asleep, refusing to wake.Li Yan was still seething with anger: "It's all Miss Xin's fault for complicating things by knocking him out with a stone!"
Li Chao Yang gave him a cool glance: "Blaming others shows your immaturity. How could our clan be so fragile? A War Ghost who could be killed by a mere stone isn't worth keeping alive."
Li Yan fell silent.
"The tasks I assigned to you and Li Min—you've failed every one. Get out. There will be consequences when we return."
Li Yan left the tent with a pale face.
Li Chao Yang sat quietly by the bedside for a long time before suddenly moving. She removed her gloves and hesitantly, slowly, even awkwardly, reached out to touch Lu Qianqiao's cheek.
From his birth until now, at twenty-five years old, she had never touched him so gently and quietly.
Looking at his face, so similar to that person's, Li Chao Yang felt a wave of nostalgia. Back then, when he died, he had been just as still, resting his face in her hand as his breathing quietly ceased. Now, his son lay before her in the same posture, giving her a long-lost sensation—as if she were witnessing his death all over again.
Her pitch-black eyes instantly turned blood-red. Not blaming others? How laughable. Even she couldn't manage that.
She turned and called, "Li Min."
The War Ghost outside the tent immediately understood. He bowed to Xin Mei and said coldly, "Miss Xin, the Madam requests your presence."
...The ugly daughter-in-law was finally going to meet her in-laws.
Xin Mei hesitated for a moment before lifting the tent flap and slowly stepping inside.
She met a pair of icy, blood-red eyes and froze slightly. But she didn't look away, holding the gaze calmly.
After what felt like three autumns, Li Chao Yang finally spoke in a low voice.
"...If he doesn't wake by the last day, he never will."
Xin Mei wrestled with herself for a long time, holding back, but ultimately couldn't resist asking softly, "Was it really because of that stone?"
Li Chao Yang didn't answer the question.
Though she was seated and Xin Mei was standing, the height difference between them small and the distance not far, Xin Mei felt as if Li Chao Yang were perched on some distant, lofty height, looking down at her with emotionless eyes.
"If he doesn't wake, it's the same as death. I've already ordered his tomb chamber in the Imperial Mausoleum to be prepared. Did he like it there?"
...What did that mean?
"In life, I couldn't give him what he loved. In death, I'll send him everything he ever cherished."
Li Chao Yang's distant gaze finally focused slightly, settling on Xin Mei's face. "Including you."
Xin Mei opened her mouth, hesitated, and thought she might ask about being buried alive with him. But what came out instead was: "He won't die."
Li Chao Yang had no interest in such baseless sentimental talk and turned away dismissively. "Miss Xin, please wait outside for news."
"I'm not leaving."
Her reply was firm yet gentle.
"I'm not leaving. I'll stay right here with him. Lu Qianqiao won't die. He'll wake up."
"I don't care for meaningless platitudes."
"You're his mother, yet you refuse to believe he won't die. This isn't a platitude—can't you see that?"
Blood-red eyes locked onto hers again, and Li Chao Yang's voice carried a hint of frost. "Miss Xin, the fearlessness of the ignorant is meaningless."
Xin Mei didn't respond. She simply sat by the bed, gently stroking Lu Qianqiao's hair. The warmth in his locks inexplicably calmed her unease.
She wasn't ignorant. She knew many things.She knew Lu Qianqiao enjoyed the leisurely and peaceful life in the Imperial Mausoleum; knew he liked making dolls in his free time; knew he actually disliked warfare; knew that although his words were often harsh and his expressionless face unappealing, his heart was warm.
"I'll stay with him."
The crimson in her red eyes gradually faded as Li Chao Yang let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
"Among our mixed-blood clan, it's not unheard of to survive the Transformation Tribulation. When Qianqiao previously asked that little immortal to investigate, he must have already learned this. The specific methods vary by individual and cannot serve as reference. But my son, Li Chao Yang's son, cannot be ordinary. Tell him I forbid him to die so cheaply."
The tent flap closed as she boarded the snow-white carriage once more, silently keeping watch outside.
As night slowly fell, Si Lan entered once to deliver food. His eyes reddened as he glanced at Lu Qianqiao, but he said nothing—only clenched his fists before leaving again.
Xin Mei gently patted Lu Qianqiao's cheek. "...Hey, getting crushed by rocks doesn't make you a hero. If you don't wake up, are you trying to shift all the blame onto me and make me feel guilty?"
No response.
"Listen, don't get any ideas about me joining you in death. I've got everything prepared—if you die, even if they bury me in the pit, I'll dig my way out and remarry. Hey, I'm serious about remarrying. Don't think I'm joking."
Still no response.
Xin Mei leaned back against the flexible tent wall where a large vent allowed fresh air. The night sky was beautiful—stars twinkling, silver light dazzling—but the scents carried by the evening breeze were less pleasant: gunpowder, blood, and from somewhere distant, the agonized moans of wounded soldiers.
Cradling his head in her arms, she gently ran her fingers through his soft hair, suddenly missing the Imperial Mausoleum.
Everyone was still waiting for them there.
The cool, refreshing summer breeze was waiting. The hillsides fragrant with wild grass were waiting. The starry sky and little moon were waiting too.
Their time together hadn't been long, yet it felt like ages had passed—as if they'd always been together. His ears that flushed red like agate at the slightest provocation, that gaze of his she still couldn't quite decipher—it all felt like it had happened just yesterday.
Turns out, she remembered everything. Not a single fragment forgotten.
Remarry? What a joke. Right now, she didn't want to marry anyone else—not a single soul.
The one destined for her, her fated match, was Lu Qianqiao alone.
Lu Qianqiao, when will you wake up?
Night passed, and dawn came.
Xin Mei quietly watched the fading moon through the tent roof when suddenly—the head in her arms moved. No, not just his head—his entire body shifted as if waking from sleep. He turned over, raised a hand to touch the lump on the back of his head, and opened his eyes in confusion.
The eyes were still blood-red.
She froze, holding her breath, round eyes locked onto him.
...Was this the usual Lu Qianqiao? Or that War Ghost who wielded his blade indiscriminately? Come to think of it, if it were the War Ghost, was it too late to run now?
Lu Qianqiao gazed at her blankly for a long moment—probably not fully awake yet—then simply yawned, wrapped his arms tightly around her, and murmured with closed eyes, "Xin Mei... stop messing around... let's sleep."Xin Mei was overwhelmed with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears and lips trembling. She spread her arms wide, ready to embrace him tightly and pour out all her worries and hopes over the past days. She had always believed he would wake up—she knew it, he really would.
But he just rolled over, bundled himself in the blanket, completely ignoring her, and fell back asleep.
Her outstretched hands instantly clenched into fists, slamming hard onto the bed frame—the fragile bed immediately collapsed under the force.
"You can't do this! You're already awake, what the hell are you still sleeping for?!"
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