“Don’t be afraid.”
“I won’t let you go alone, Aiyun. Wait for me.”
No! No! No!
Lin Aiyun’s eyes snapped open. She stared at the ceiling, dazed for a long time.
Still adrift in her grief, her eyes gradually misted over with a thin layer of tears. Her throat ached with a raw, choking sensation, as if gripped by a massive hand—she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make a sound.
A double suicide—such an extraordinarily rare thing. Lin Aiyun had never imagined it would happen to her.
What a fool. How could he follow her into death?
After drinking his medicine, Xiao Cheng had held her frail, dying body in his arms as they lay together on the cold hospital bed, waiting for death to claim them both. He said it would let them walk the Yellow Springs Road together, be reborn together, and maybe even beg Granny Meng, out of pity for their old, devoted marriage, to let them skip the bowl of forgetfulness. That way, in their next life, he could find her early and they could be together sooner.
What an idiot. When people die, there’s nothing left.
Somehow, with that sensation of death still clinging to her, she found herself back in her old childhood room from decades ago. At first, she thought it was just her mind wandering through memories in her final moments—but this scene was lasting far too long.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
The furnishings before her—strange yet familiar. The faint aroma of cooking wafting at her nose. The soft bedsheet beneath her fingertips. The bright chirping of birds outside the window…
It all felt far too real.
After a long while, a ludicrous notion suddenly surged into Lin Aiyun’s mind.
As if to test its truth, she scrambled out of bed and ran to the round mirror hanging behind the door. In that moment, she saw her own face clearly—no longer a wrinkled old woman, but a young girl with firm, smooth skin. This was her at sixteen or seventeen!
Terrified, her legs gave way beneath her. As she looked up, her eyes fell upon the wall calendar, which bore the bold, clear date: March 25, 1949.
She had traveled back in time? And what about Xiao Cheng—had he come back too?
Lin Aiyun wished she could fly to Xiao Cheng’s side that very instant to find out. But in this era, with poor communication and transportation, and the two of them separated by a thousand li—one in the north, one in the south—it was utterly impossible.
Moreover, rebirth was too fantastical a notion. What if he hadn’t been reborn? Rushing up to him like that would only startle him. Or worse—would he punch her?
Xiao Cheng had told her that in his youth, he was no pushover—a well-known troublemaker.
But no matter what he was like now, Lin Aiyun had long since set her heart on him. She would never give up on their love.
Yet what if Xiao Cheng hadn’t been reborn? What if he didn’t recognize her? Would the young version of him still love her?
She wasn’t entirely confident. Because right now, he was the golden boy of the capital, standing high above the clouds, while she was just a humble village girl from Nangou Village. With such a vast gap in their circumstances, even meeting would be difficult, let alone making him fall for her.
In their previous life, if it hadn’t been for Xiao Cheng’s passionate pursuit, the two of them would never have ended up together.
This life…
But heaven had been merciful enough to grant her a second chance—not for her to wallow in self-pity. She had to seize this opportunity firmly, find Xiao Cheng early, and make up for all the years they had lost.
Just then, a snippet of conversation drifting in through the window snapped Lin Aiyun out of her spiraling thoughts.
·
At mealtime, plumes of cooking smoke rose from every household, carrying the warm scent of home-cooked food. A middle-aged woman in blue cotton clothing emerged from the kitchen and dumped the chopped vegetable scraps from her bamboo basket into the chicken coop. Over a dozen chickens flapped their wings and swarmed in.
“Wenhua, I just picked some peppers from the field. Do you want some?”
Hearing this, Zhang Wenhua followed the voice and looked past the fence. There she saw Li Gui’e from the house ahead, craning her neck and peering into the yard. Her beady little eyes darted about, no doubt scheming something.
That woman was notorious for her loose tongue, always gossiping about other people’s families. She could twist black into white. If you took something from her, word would spread through the village by tomorrow, twisted beyond recognition.
The moment Zhang Wenhua saw it was her, her expression soured. Her tone turned cold: “No need. Our family doesn’t care for spicy food.”
With that, she turned to leave. But Li Gui’e, undeterred, called after her, revealing her true purpose: “Hey, is your Aiyun really getting married off to Fengyuan Village? That place is desperately poor—the girl would be suffering if she goes there…”
Hearing this, Zhang Wenhua’s temper flared. She stopped in her tracks, rolled up her sleeves, and was about to give Li Gui’e a piece of her mind—to teach her that some things can be said and some cannot—when a soft, gentle voice came from behind her.
“Aunt Gui’e, who told you that? I’ll have my father go find him! Spreading rumors behind people’s backs, ruining a young girl’s reputation—that deserves a lightning strike and an early grave. Besides, who says I’m getting married? I certainly didn’t know about it myself!”
Zhang Wenhua and Li Gui’e both turned their heads toward the doorway not far away, only to see the very subject of their conversation standing on the stone steps, her almond-shaped eyes wide with anger.
Having spent much of her time studying in town, her accent had taken on a slightly refined, bookish quality.
She was about seventeen or eighteen, her blue tunic neatly tucked into black trousers. Perhaps because she was so slender, her impossibly narrow waist only made the curve of her chest seem more pronounced.
A few strands of hair, damp with sweat, clung to her fair, delicate face. She was as lovely as a lotus just out of water—truly like a beautiful girl straight out of a pictorial magazine. No wonder all the young bachelors in the village were flocking to the Lin family like they were bewitched, eager to propose a match.
“Oh, I just caught a bit of talk at the village entrance. As for who said it—how could I possibly remember clearly?” Li Gui’e clutched her basket nervously. Lin Aiyun’s father, Lin Jianzhi, was no pushover. If he came looking for trouble, her old man would skin her alive.
With that thought, Li Gui’e slapped her thigh and forced a flattering smile. “Well, since there’s no truth to it, that’s good. With Aiyun’s looks, she’ll never have to worry about finding a husband! Hahaha! My family’s waiting for me to bring their meal, so I’ll be going now.”
“…”
Watching Li Gui’e scurry off without a backward glance until she disappeared at the end of the path, Lin Aiyun pursed her lips. A classic bully—cowed the moment you stood your ground.
Lin Aiyun was just about to look away when she turned her head and met her mother’s gaze.
“Weren’t you the one going on about freedom in marriage, opposing arranged matches, saying you’d rather die than not marry? What’s with the change of heart today? Did the sun rise from the west? And you actually left that little room of yours?”
Three questions in a row left Lin Aiyun unable to lift her head. At the same time, she remembered the foolish things she had done in this period of her previous life.
Half a month ago, on a fine day, she had gone to the river with a few village girls to wash winter clothes. She hadn’t been paying attention and slipped, falling from the bank into the water. That part of the river was deep, and the girls couldn’t swim and were too scared to go in after her. After some hesitation, they sent two of their group back to the village for help.
But Lin Aiyun simply didn’t have the strength to hold on until help arrived. Just as she had choked on several mouthfuls of water and was sinking into despair, a strong man happened to pass by. He set down the firewood he had just chopped, jumped into the river, and pulled her out.
That man was Meng Baoguo.
The story of a hero saving a damsel in distress—no matter when or where—was always irresistibly romantic. Young Lin Aiyun, inevitably, developed feelings for Meng Baoguo at first sight.
After that, she frequently made trips to Fengyuan Village under the pretext of visiting schoolmates, always managing to “run into” Meng Baoguo. Over time, they grew familiar and had even met alone twice.
Everything was progressing step by step, becoming clearer and clearer. The thin paper screen in her heart was finally pierced when she heard that his family was looking for a wife for him.
Panicked, she first tried coaxing and cajoling her doting family. When that failed to win their support, she resorted to harsh words, even going on a hunger strike and locking herself in her room, refusing to come out or speak to them.
At the time, she thought she had done nothing wrong. But now, looking back, these extreme actions struck her as utterly childish—pushing away the parents who cared for her, trampling their sincere love underfoot.
At that thought, Lin Aiyun didn’t care that Zhang Wenhua was still holding the bamboo basket. She strode forward and threw herself into her mother’s arms.
“Mother.”
But the moment she spoke, large teardrops burst uncontrollably from her beautiful eyes.
Seeing this, Zhang Wenhua, who had been deliberately keeping a stern face, immediately panicked. She frantically wiped her daughter’s tears with her hands, her voice urgent: “Silly girl, why are you crying! If you really want to marry him, your father and I aren’t completely opposed.”
“I don’t want to marry, I don’t want to marry.” Hearing her mother relent, Lin Aiyun shook her head vigorously like a rattle-drum. Her vehement refusal stunned Zhang Wenhua. The change was too sudden—even shrewd as she was, she couldn’t fathom the twists and turns in her daughter’s heart.
Why doesn’t she want to marry anymore? Just two days ago, she was adamant about it, willing to die for it. What changed today?
But no matter how much Zhang Wenhua guessed, she could never have imagined that her daughter had already lived through one lifetime.
“I’ve thought it through. I don’t want to get married so soon. I want to stay by your side for a few more years.” Lin Aiyun looked at her young mother, her heart warm—yet also filled with guilt.
“I don’t have to repay a life-saving debt by offering myself in marriage.”
“Mother, I’m sorry. I’ve been so immature lately. You’re the adults—please forgive me for my foolishness?”
It had been so long since she had cooed softly to her mother. Lin Aiyun, now “old” in spirit, felt a little unaccustomed to it, two faint blushes of embarrassment appearing on her cheeks.
“Oh, you!” Zhang Wenhua poked Lin Aiyun’s cheek. The bamboo basket had fallen to the ground, but she couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. A sense of inexpressible relief welled up in her heart.
She didn’t know what had caused her daughter to change her mind, but in the end, it was for the better.
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