The Company

Chapter 2: Dumb Shop - Ancient Mirror

He Yiyao gazed mesmerized at the circular ancient mirror inside the glass display case, unwilling to even blink.

"You can take it out for a closer look if you like," the antique shop Boss said with a light chuckle, his gentle tone instantly making him likable.

He Yiyao nodded repeatedly. Though she knew she probably couldn't afford this ancient mirror, she still wanted to hold it in her hands and feel its texture.

The Boss unlocked the display case and took out the bronze mirror. "This is a rare fish-patterned bronze mirror from the Han Dynasty. Most Han Dynasty bronze mirrors feature Dragons, tigers, phoenixes, or the four celestial guardians. This piece with its red and green patina is exceptionally well-preserved. Legend says it was a cherished possession of the famous Han general Huo Qubing. You have excellent taste, miss."

He Yiyao carefully cradled the bronze mirror, her eyes fixed on the four slightly raised carps on the back that appeared remarkably lifelike. The carved patterns were simple yet fluid, each fish having its distinct posture, truly resembling them swimming freely in water. The mirror was only about the size of her palm, surprisingly thin and light - much lighter than she had imagined. Just as He Yiyao was wondering if this might be a counterfeit, she flipped it over and saw the mottled mirror surface, which made her uncertain again.

The relatively smooth surface was covered with scratches, each marking the relentless passage of time. She could vaguely see her own blurred reflection in the mirror. Captivated by this hazy beauty, He Yiyao found herself unwilling to put it down.

She had stumbled into this antique shop on her way to tutoring class, drawn in by its unusual name - "Dumb Shop."

Curious, she asked the Boss why it was called Dumb Shop. He replied:

"Every antique here has its own story, carrying years of history, but no one to listen. Because they cannot speak. Hence the name Dumb Shop."

Though the place was shabby and didn't seem to get much business, she knew that if everything here was genuine, the prices would be far beyond what a high school senior like her could afford.

But just as she was about to leave, she had spotted this ancient mirror.

She wanted it - what should she do? She didn't want to let go of the mirror, finding its cool touch particularly comforting, as if it had touched something soft deep in her heart.

Suddenly, a ridiculous excuse flashed through He Yiyao's mind: "Boss, our school club is putting on a play and needs an ancient mirror. Could we rent it for a month?" She thought she was just caught up in the novelty - after a month, she might have already lost interest in this grimy old mirror.

However, even she felt her request was too much. Just as she was about to say more to salvage the situation, she unexpectedly heard the young antique shop Boss say a single word: "Okay."

He Yiyao stared blankly for a moment, then began excitedly asking what collateral or deposit would be required. To her surprise, he only asked for her student ID to register and demanded nothing else.

"For the rental fee, let's just make it symbolic - ten yuan," the antique shop Boss said casually.

So cheap? He Yiyao felt some regret, thinking she should have just asked the price directly. Maybe she had overthought this - perhaps the bronze mirror was just a counterfeit after all. But since she had already asked to rent it, she had no choice but to steel herself and sign her name in the registration book. She decided that if she still liked the mirror after a month, she would definitely come back and ask how much it cost.The young boss glanced at the registered name, his slender eyes narrowing even further as his long fingers traced over the character "Yao" on the register. He said ambiguously, "Oh, right, there's one more thing."

"What?" He Yiyao was admiring herself in the mirror when she reflexively looked up upon hearing his words.

"One thing you must remember—this bronze mirror must never be wiped. Absolutely never." As these words were spoken, He Yiyao vaguely noticed what seemed to be a strange smile curling at the corners of the ordinary-looking boss's mouth, but she paid it no mind. At that moment, all she cared about was carefully wrapping the bronze mirror and placing it in her bag before rushing off to her tutoring session.

That evening, after finishing her homework, He Yiyao turned on her desk lamp and took the ancient mirror in her hands, examining it closely.

"It's so blurry—how did ancient women even use this for makeup?" He Yiyao muttered softly as she gazed at the indistinct reflection in the tarnished mirror. Noticing the mottled scratches on its surface, she initially thought about cleaning it with an alcohol wipe meant for computer screens. But just as her fingers touched the mirror, the antique shop boss's warning suddenly echoed in her mind.

"One thing you must remember—this bronze mirror must never be wiped. Absolutely never."

Resigned, He Yiyao set aside the alcohol wipe. Perhaps the mirror really was a counterfeit, and the boss was afraid it would look too new if she cleaned it. Hah!

As she was about to put the mirror down, a casual glance made her heart skip a beat.

Because she realized that the blurry figure in the mirror... didn't seem to be her.

At the very least, she would never have a hair bun on her head, and moreover, the figure didn't move as she did...

"Wh-Who are you?" He Yiyao couldn't help but ask aloud.

No response.

She let out a sigh of relief and rubbed her eyes. Just as she was chiding herself for seeing things and about to give up, she suddenly heard a faint, ethereal voice in the silent room.

"Thou... who art thou?"

The voice was so soft that He Yiyao almost thought it was her imagination. But the next second, she stared intently at the mirror in her hand.

"...Who art thou?"

This time, the voice was clearer, and it was indeed coming from the mirror.

Under the desk lamp's glow, the scratches on the mottled mirror surface became more pronounced. But this time, He Yiyao was certain—the blurry figure in the reflection was not herself.

"Who art thou?" The person in the mirror seemed to have noticed her as well and exclaimed in surprise.

"I am not 'who'... I am He Yiyao," she replied softly in classical Chinese, her face darkening with confusion. Was she losing her mind? Or was this bronze mirror not a counterfeit after all, but instead housing a trapped spirit?

"I am Huo Qubing," the voice from the mirror replied much more quickly this time, and it was noticeably clearer. She could now tell it was a man's voice.

Thud! The mirror slipped from her hand and fell onto the desk with a loud clatter.

"Xiao Yao! Aren't you asleep yet? It's already 10:30! Don't you have class tomorrow?" He Yiyao's mother knocked on her bedroom door. Hurriedly, He Yiyao tucked the ancient mirror between the pages of a book and turned off the light.

But as she lay in bed, she tossed and turned, her mind racing. Was that a spirit from a thousand years ago? Could it be that the great general Huo Qubing was trapped inside an ancient mirror?He Yiyao discovered that no matter how she handled the bronze mirror on ordinary days, it remained unresponsive. Only at 10 p.m. would the mirror undergo changes.

"Are you Huo Qubing? That famous Han Dynasty general?"

"General? I am currently a captain, but I will soon become a general!"

"The books say you're a general." He Yiyao flipped through the Han Dynasty history book she had specifically borrowed from the library today. Could this be a ghost with the same name?

"Haha! I don't know what book you're referring to. What about you? How did you die? Why are you in the bronze mirror your aunt gave me?"

The words from the mirror shocked He Yiyao. She died? When did she die?

She quickly pinched her cheek hard. Ouch! That hurt!

"I'm perfectly alive! I'm attending school! I'm studying!"

"Eh? Then why do you say I'm dead? I'm perfectly alive too! I'm riding horses! I'm practicing archery!"

He Yiyao was stunned. She wasn't dead, and he wasn't dead either. So... could this mirror connect two worlds across time and space?

"Hey! Since you claim not to be a female ghost, show me your face! Don't hide because you look like a corpse!"

He Yiyao had completely forgotten the antique shop owner's warning not to wipe the mirror surface. Carried by curiosity, she began gently wiping the mirror.

With each wipe, the mirror surface grew slightly brighter. When her hand was almost sore from exhaustion, she heard the annoying voice from the mirror teasing: "Oh! With your hair all disheveled, and you still say you're not a female ghost?"

"Clang!" He Yiyao sandwiched the ancient mirror between her books and went to bed, ignoring all calls from the reflection.

She left it like this for three full days. Between cram school and homework assigned by school teachers, she had no time to think about anything else.

It wasn't until she occasionally flipped through her reference books these past few days that she suddenly discovered the bronze mirror tucked inside. Not hearing his archaic "I" and "you" for several days actually made her feel nostalgic.

He Yiyao propped the bronze mirror against her reference books and was about to lower her head to do homework when she noticed her hanging long hair. Remembering what Huo Qubing had said earlier, she properly tied her hair into a ponytail before starting to study.

At 10 p.m., the teasing voice indeed came from the bronze mirror: "Long time no see! It's been a month, hasn't it? Eh? You actually tied up your hair? Female ghosts can't touch their own hair, can they?"

The lead in He Yiyao's mechanical pencil snapped with a "crack." "You're the female ghost! Wait, what do you mean a month? Only three days have passed here!" She looked at the ancient mirror and noticed the surface was clearer than last time, vaguely revealing a flickering candle flame and a man's silhouette on the other side.

"Hey, woman, you... try wiping the mirror surface again. After you wiped it last time, I could see a bit more clearly." Huo Qubing followed He Yiyao's example and switched from the archaic "thou" and "I" to modern pronouns. Though somewhat awkward, it felt refreshingly novel to him.

He Yiyao looked at her completed homework, then simply picked up the cloth on the desk and started wiping. "You said you haven't seen me for a month? What's going on? When were you able to see me before?""It started on the first day of the sixth month, then the time before last was the eleventh of the sixth month, and today is the eleventh of the seventh month. I remember clearly—on the first day of the sixth month, I went hunting at Shanglin Park, got completely drunk, and when I returned, I found you in the mirror."

"Eh? Could it be that our timelines don't match? Maybe this ancient mirror is like a camera connecting two different eras! It's just that the 'cable' might be a bit too long, causing some lag. But then, why is there no delay when we talk?"

"Woman, speak in a way I can understand! What is a camera? And what is a cable?" Huo Qubing listened intently but found he could hear the words without grasping their meaning.

"A camera is a lens connected to a computer... Never mind, forget I said anything." He Yiyao rolled her eyes, realizing it was pointless to explain modern gadgets to an ancient person. They only understood terms like "heavenly mirror"!

"Hey! You wipe it too! Don't leave all the work to me."

"Wipe? The mirror in my hand is brand new! It's already shiny! What is there to wipe?" Huo Qubing flicked the bronze mirror's surface. "Woman, does it hurt when I flick the mirror? They say if you damage an object, the spirit dwelling inside will feel pain!"

"Pain my foot!" He Yiyao scrubbed the mirror vigorously, imagining it was Huo Qubing's face—scrubbing hard and with force! "I'm not a female ghost!"

"I know, that's why I call you 'woman'!" someone replied in a thoroughly dismissive tone.

He Yiyao gritted her teeth in frustration, venting her anger by scrubbing the mirror even harder. After a while, that annoying voice spoke up again.

"I see you now! What nonsense! Those old men lied! Female ghosts aren't supposed to be stunningly beautiful—they're supposed to look terrifying!"

Clang! He Yiyao flipped the mirror over and slammed it face-down on the table, then took out her frustration by pounding it a few times with a book.

She looked terrifying? He Yiyao couldn't help glancing at her reflection in the dressing table mirror, which showed a delicate and lovely face.

That guy must have something wrong with his eyes! And he boasts about riding and archery? He'd be lucky not to shoot his own allies!

The mirror continued to emit calls of "Woman! Woman!"

He Yiyao traced the patterns on the back of the bronze mirror, recalling the glimpse of a handsome face she'd caught before flipping it over.

Why was her face flushing? Why should she care about that guy? Lights out, time to sleep!

"Hey! Woman, are you there?"At ten o'clock in the evening, the bronze mirror emitted someone's voice again, though this time it wasn't as flippant—it sounded somewhat deeper.

After only two seconds of internal struggle, He Yiyao flipped the mirror back over. She had to admit, having a pen pal from over two thousand years ago was pretty awesome, especially when it was the famous General Huo.

The mottled mirror surface, now with fewer scratches, reflected a dashing and handsome face. It was still somewhat blurry, but those bright, spirited eyes—clear and shining with a profound light—instantly captivated He Yiyao's heart, making it impossible to look away.

But where was he looking?

He Yiyao glanced down at her spaghetti-strap nightgown, silently cursing him as a little pervert, and immediately threw on an outer garment. This kind of attire was probably too stimulating for a man from ancient times. But, a man? He Yiyao poked at Huo Qubing's face in the mirror and asked curiously, "How old are you?""I'm sixteen this year, so what? They rejected me from joining the army!" Huo Qubing grabbed his wine jug and took a swig. "I'm perfectly qualified to fight on the battlefield! Don't tell me you're like them, thinking I'm too young!"

Sixteen? No wonder this netizen looked so youthful—he was just a minor. He Yiyao raised an eyebrow and said, "Be good now, call me big sister."

"No way! Woman, can't you chat with me every day? I have to wait ten days each time! Can't you be available whenever I call?" Huo Qubing let out a drunken burp, making an unreasonable demand.

"I chat with you every single day!" He Yiyao pouted. Available on demand? Did Young Master Huo think he was a classmate of Harry Potter, having learned Apparition or something?

"Seems like one day in heaven is ten days on earth!" Young Master Huo sighed regretfully.

"Were you just praising me as a fairy? Oh, you!" He Yiyao deliberately misinterpreted his meaning, playfully covering her cheeks in mock embarrassment.

For once, Young Master Huo didn't argue back. He was too drunk and disoriented, mumbling incoherently, "Woman, do you... want to see... the scenery beyond the frontier? Stay... by my side, don't... don't go... I'll take you... take you to see it..." Before he could finish, he slumped over the table and fell asleep.

He Yiyao silently watched the young general in the mirror—a youth with soaring ambitions now drowning his sorrows in drink—and felt a tightness in her chest... She remembered that historically, Huo Qubing died young at twenty-four...

Should she tell him? But if she did, he'd probably just laugh it off...

"Woman, I, Huo Qubing, was born a slave's son and raised in luxury, but I've never been obsessed with wealth and status. A true man should die on the battlefield, defending his home and country!"

"Woman, do you know? The Xiongnu keep harassing our borders, yet the Emperor maintains peace through marriage alliances and tributes!"

"Woman, if they let me on the battlefield, I'd surely cut down enemies left and right!"

"Woman... Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm listening, I'm listening!" He Yiyao picked at her ear and continued working on her review questions.

This had been going on for several weeks. Every night at ten, she could see this netizen from two thousand years ago through the bronze mirror for about half an hour before being forcibly disconnected. Meanwhile, Huo Qubing could only see He Yiyao once every ten days, so from his perspective, nearly a year had passed.

"Who are you trying to fool? You won't even look at my face. Is that thing you're writing so interesting? More interesting than me?"

This was her final assignment due tomorrow—the last day of cram school before the new semester began! But He Yiyao blinked and looked up at the desk calendar, suddenly realizing she was supposed to return this bronze mirror to the antique shop tomorrow.

Although Huo Qubing's constant grumbling could be annoying, she found she'd grown accustomed to hearing him vent every night. She couldn't help glancing at the bronze mirror on her right, its mottled surface reflecting his youthful yet undeniably commanding face.

"You..." He Yiyao wanted to properly say goodbye, but the words stuck in her throat. This bronze mirror was undoubtedly genuine—she could never afford it even if she sold herself.Moreover, she truly couldn't continue chatting with him like this any longer. Over the past month, to avoid altering the course of history, she had said nothing to him, obediently playing the role of a listener. By now, he probably still thought she was merely a female ghost dwelling in the mirror.

"Woman, do you know? I rarely speak to people. But with you, I always have endless things to say. Perhaps it's because I don't know you, and you don't know me..."

He Yiyao froze, unsure how to respond.

She had listened to all his complaints these past days. Empress Wei Zifu was his aunt, his uncle Wei Qing was a great general of Han, he wanted to go to the battlefield and fight enemies, unwilling to live a peaceful life in Chang'an... She had always felt these were matters from another world unrelated to her. But through his daily, gradual sharing, it was as if she had witnessed it all firsthand—standing by his side, watching through the still somewhat blurry mirror as he galloped across hunting grounds... "Woman, remember I said I'd take you to see deserts and grasslands? In ten days, I'll take you there!" Huo Qubing said excitedly. He Yiyao could see his soaring eyebrows, sharp and unique like two small knives piercing the clouds. "I've volunteered and asked the Emperor to appoint me as a Piao Xiao Colonel to join the expedition! In ten days, wait for me!"

The mirror surface had already cleared, but Huo Qubing's exhilarated voice still seemed to echo in her ears.

He Yiyao's heart softened. Resting her chin in her hand, she stared blankly at the ancient mirror. If she didn't say anything unnecessary and just remained a listener, that should be acceptable, right? Tomorrow she would go to Dumb Shop and ask the Boss if she could continue renting the ancient mirror. She could take all the coins from her piggy bank and prepay for a year—that should be fine, right?

From then on, He Yiyao's nights became extraordinarily vivid. Through this ancient mirror, she saw the captivating, clear moonlight beyond the frontier, witnessed bloody battles on the battlefield, and gazed upon the vast, endless desert...

She flipped through history books while watching the ancient mirror.

She read about the shifting tides of war in the mirror through the lines of historical texts.

She said nothing, merely accompanying him, encouraging him, comforting him through the long, slow passage of time.

One day for her equaled ten days for him.

In the sixth year of Yuanshuo, he led eight hundred cavalry, galloping hundreds of miles across the vast desert in search of enemy traces. His long-range raid tactics achieved initial success, resulting in over two thousand enemy casualties—one of the Xiongnu Chanyu's uncles was killed, another captured alive. He returned with his troops unscathed. Emperor Wu of Han immediately enfeoffed him as "Marquis of Champion," praising him for being the bravest among all three armed forces.

Through the ancient mirror, she watched him travel hundreds of miles, the dust raised by his horse's hooves, the blood flowing from his chest—enough to cover the entire mirror surface throughout the long night.

He said this was his first time on the battlefield, and he had already achieved remarkable feats.

She said nothing, only quietly watched the mottled bloodstains on the ancient mirror, because this was the first time he had been so severely wounded.

In the spring of the second year of Yuanshou, he was appointed as a Piaoqi General and independently led ten thousand elite troops on an expedition against the Xiongnu. Just nineteen years old, he launched lightning raids across the thousand-mile desert, engaging five Xiongnu tribes within six days while advancing fiercely. At Gaolan Mountain, he fought a brutal life-and-death battle. In this engagement, he achieved a costly victory—though nearly ten thousand enemies were slain, only three thousand of his ten thousand elite soldiers remained.She gazed through the ancient mirror but saw nothing of his battles. When they met again, it was already a scene of victory.

He said that to spare her the sight of bloodshed, he had deliberately chosen the intervals between their conversations to wage war.

She remained silent. This time, there was no blood staining the mirror's surface. Yet she discovered a deep blade scar newly etched on the back of the mirror.

She could see the scar on the ancient mirror.

But the wounds he bore upon his own body—those she could never see.

In the summer of the same year, Emperor Wu of Han decided to launch the campaign to reclaim the Hexi region. In this battle, he became the commander of the Han army, once again leading his troops deep into enemy territory and achieving a great victory. At the Qilian Mountains, his forces slaughtered over thirty thousand enemy soldiers. The Han dynasty recovered the Hexi Plain. From then on, the Han army's prestige soared, and the nineteen-year-old him became the God of War who struck fear into the hearts of the Xiongnu.

She watched through the ancient mirror, gazing at the land of Hexi beneath his feet, witnessing his high spirits, and seeing his thousands of soldiers looking up to him...

He said he truly wished she could stand by his side to experience it all.

She said nothing, because she knew it was impossible...

That autumn, the Hunye King and the Xiutu King sought to surrender to the Han dynasty. He went to the Yellow River to accept their surrender. As he led his troops across the river, a sudden mutiny broke out among the surrendering Xiongnu troops. Incredibly, he charged into the Xiongnu camp with only a few personal guards, confronted the Hunye King directly, and ordered the execution of the mutinous soldiers. The Hunye King had every opportunity to take him hostage or kill him for revenge, yet ultimately refrained. His fearless aura, daring to risk his life alone, not only subdued the Hunye King but also awed over forty thousand Xiongnu soldiers. The surrender in Hexi concluded smoothly.

Through the ancient mirror, she watched that night of flickering candlelight, chaotic circumstances, and lurking dangers—how he stood in the enemy's tent, using merely an expression and a gesture to quell forty thousand soldiers and eight thousand rebels outside. The world was astonished, hailing the God of War as invincible.

He said he had truly taken a risk this time, but with her by his side, she was his guardian goddess.

She said nothing, only silently loosening the badly crumpled corner of her garment on her side of the mirror.

In the third year of Yuanshou, Emperor Wu of Han built an exquisite mansion for him and instructed him to inspect it.

Through the ancient mirror, she saw the young emperor's high regard for him and the smiling princess beside him. She knew Emperor Wu intended not only to grant him a mansion but also to arrange a marriage between him and the princess.

He said, "Until the Xiongnu are destroyed, I shall have no home."

She said nothing, only watching as he spoke, her hand resting on the mirror's surface, its palm lines clearly visible.

For the first time, she reached out her hand, pressing it against his.

Their hands were separated not only by a cold mirror but also by two thousand years of time.

Yet something still flowed silently between them.

In the fourth year of Yuanshou, to completely annihilate the main forces of the Xiongnu, Emperor Wu of Han launched the unprecedented Battle of Mobei. He led his troops deep into the northern deserts, covering over two thousand li and annihilating more than seventy thousand enemy soldiers. In pursuit of the Xiongnu Chanyu, he advanced to the Langjuxu Mountain, where he conducted a ceremony to worship heaven and earth. After the Feng Langjuxu ritual, he continued his advance, pushing all the way to the area of Lake Baikal in Russia, winning consecutive victories along the way. Following this battle, the Xiongnu fled far away, and there were no royal courts south of the desert. His "Feng Langjuxu" henceforth became the ultimate aspiration and lifelong dream for military strategists throughout Chinese history. That year, he was merely twenty-two years old.

Through the ancient mirror, she watched this highest military ceremony of worship in history, seeing him standing at the peak of his life, witnessing his supreme glory.

Throughout his six years of campaigning, she had always been by his side, guarding over his heart.

He said, "Woman, are you truly a ghost? All these years, your appearance hasn't changed at all..."

On the mirror, countless mottled blade marks scarred its surface, yet the reflection grew increasingly clear.She could even see her own reflection mirrored in his eyes.

He said his dream of pacifying the Xiongnu had been fulfilled. His general's aspirations had also become reality. He had nearly accomplished all his childhood ambitions, and he could obtain almost everything he desired.

He said he wanted her.

She remained silent, merely shaking her head quietly before placing the bronze mirror inside a sealed box and locking it away in the deepest part of her cabinet.

Enough, she told herself.

Having accompanied him for over seven months, witnessing his arduous journey step by step until he finally reached the pinnacle of his life—that was enough.

They ultimately belonged to different worlds. She'd rather he continued believing she was a female ghost who had permanently lost her powers, whose spirit had scattered beyond recovery, never to meet again.

She needed to forget him.

She buried herself in studies, channeling all her attention into textbooks, refusing to allow any spare moment for thoughts of him.

Except every night at ten o'clock, when her heart would constrict with pain. Her gaze would habitually drift to where the bronze mirror used to rest before she forced herself to look away.

What was he doing now? What was he thinking? Who was he with?

She gritted her teeth. He no longer had anything to do with her.

How could she bear to watch him gradually fall ill, weaken, and eventually die?

She was tired of only being able to watch him through the ancient mirror, unable to do anything, unable to touch him.

She admitted her own cowardice, thus choosing escape.

Daily life resumed its ordinary rhythm—school, tutoring sessions, homework... except each morning she awoke with tear stains covering her face.

Finally, the college entrance exams concluded. She had performed exceptionally well. When she told her parents she'd likely be admitted to the university she'd dreamed of since childhood, they were overjoyed. She closed her door and wept in silent sorrow.

With exams over and free time abundant, lacking the excuse of studying, she could no longer suppress her longing for him.

Eventually she couldn't resist retrieving the tightly locked box from her cabinet. Gazing at the long-unseen bronze mirror, she gently traced its surface.

This time, she must tell him.

Even if they couldn't be together, she must let him know.

She loved him.

The room stood empty and lonely as she sat waiting quietly until ten o'clock.

Instead of hearing his voice, she heard only a distinct shattering sound—an unexpected crack had appeared across the surface of the ancient mirror in her hands.

Then she noticed a silk cloth covering the mirror's other side.

Embroidered upon it were powerfully written characters:

—A Yao, in our next life, we must meet again.

Sobs overwhelmed her.

"Boss," He Yiyao stood before the counter, opening the box to reveal the bronze mirror with its newly formed crack. Today marked both her university orientation and exactly one year since she'd rented this ancient mirror. "How much for this mirror? I want to buy it."

The young antique shop owner examined the cracked mirror without showing much surprise. "That won't be necessary. Your rental fees have already covered its full price."

"Really?" He Yiyao didn't believe this at all. To her, the mirror was priceless. Even if he'd quoted an astronomical sum, she would have found a way to pay it off gradually.

The boss closed the box and slid it back toward her, smiling. "Now, it belongs to you."

He Yiyao lowered her gaze, carefully picking up the box.

This was her most precious possession."By the way, there's one more thing that came with this ancient mirror. Let me find it." The Boss walked into the back room and, after some rummaging, emerged slowly holding a yellowed, tattered piece of silk cloth.

He Yiyao felt as if struck by lightning, trembling as she received the silk cloth.

Her hands shook slightly as she unfolded the fabric, revealing several powerfully written characters: "A'Yao, in our next life, we must meet again."

Clutching the mirror box and gripping the silk cloth, she didn't know how she left the Dumb Shop. The next thing she knew, her parents had already delivered her to the university campus.

The freshman reception area was bustling with noise and excitement, yet she felt as if she stood in another dimension.

In her daze, someone bumped into her, causing her to fall. She desperately hugged the ancient mirror, but the silk cloth fluttered to the ground.

A hand picked up the silk cloth for her - a hand with distinct, well-defined knuckles.

Her heart suddenly tightened unbearably, leaving her without the strength to stand up.

Raising her head, she saw a familiar face. This time, there was no ancient mirror between them, no two thousand years of separation, no warhorses neighing, no clashing weapons, no clouds of dust... His features were clear and real.

The difference was, he wasn't wearing his ever-present armor, just a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans.

Tears quietly slid down her cheeks.

The young man walked up to her, unfolded the silk cloth, and spoke the words as if he had just noticed them by chance, yet also as if he had always known what was written there, saying with determination:

"A'Yao, in our next life, we must meet again."

Every antique in the Dumb Shop has its own story, carrying years of memories with no one to listen.

But they are all waiting...

(End of Chapter)