Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Shen Anning found herself trapped in a painful, protracted, and chaotic dream.

She dreamt of being pursued by a ferocious beast in a forest. She ran and fled with all her might, only to be ultimately captured. Just as the beast lowered its head to sever her neck, she was rescued—Lu Suian descended as if from the heavens, saving her.

But before she could fully recover from her joy, someone seized her throat, choking her tightly. Lu Anran stood by her bed, raving madly, word by word: "Brother Ziyou is mine, Brother Ziyou is mine. Shen Anning, you should have died long ago. Go die!"

Lu Anran smothered her mouth and nose, cutting off her breath. As her last gasp escaped, her peripheral vision caught sight of someone watching from the side. Clutching the bedding beneath her, she broke all ten fingers, using every last ounce of strength to finally discern the face in the shifting light.

"Go die."

It was Lu Suian.

The next moment, Lu Suian raised an axe and viciously brought it down upon her.

"Madam, madam—"

Shen Anning clutched her neck, gasping violently for air.

Opening her eyes, she saw Bai Tao, Huan Xi, Hong Li, and Chun Qi all gathered around her canopy bed, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

Seeing her awake, they all wept with joy.

"Madam, you're finally awake! Oh, you scared us to death. It's all my fault—I shouldn't have left you alone that day."

"No, it's my fault, it should be my fault! If I had been more resolute, if I hadn't been intimidated by Princess Fuyang's guards, if I had stayed close to Madam, none of this would have happened."

"Thank goodness the heir was there."

Some were consumed by guilt, others by regret, while a few, with stern expressions, silently breathed a sigh of relief.

Some even alluded to certain individuals.

Finally, Chun Qi waved her hand and declared, "Alright, alright! Those who survive a great disaster are destined for good fortune. Madam will surely be blessed from now on. She hasn't eaten for a day and a night and has just woken up. Don't let your chatter overwhelm her again."

At Chun Qi's command, everyone finally snapped back to reality. Amidst tears, laughter, and commotion, they began to attend to their duties: some brought water, some tea, some food.

Shen Anning was indeed hungry, but she felt lightheaded and weak, her body still sore and fatigued from the high fever. She couldn't handle heavy food, so she had some porridge. As she ate, she gradually regained her senses and belatedly recalled the events of that day and night.

The scattered remains, the sharp axe, that demon-like face—they lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.

Aside from the day she was reborn, she rarely had nightmares.

But this incident had plagued her with terrifying dreams.

She shook her head forcefully, trying to banish the brutal, fearful memories from her mind.

Even though she was now in a safe place, she still felt a lingering dread.

That day, she had thought there was no escape, but she never expected—

Thinking of the figure that descended from the sky that night, Shen Anning's expression momentarily froze.

As she looked around, intending to inquire about the events of that day, she heard a respectful voice from outside: "Heir!"

Shen Anning was startled and looked up toward the entrance.

It was already late, dark outside, but the room was lit, the warm yellow light casting a cozy glow.

Lu Suian emerged from behind the screen, carrying a tray, his figure silhouetted in the shimmering light.

He walked around the screen, and their eyes met.

Lu Suian paused, standing still and gazing at her from a distance.

Whether it was due to the lighting or the distance, his expression seemed inscrutable. Light and shadow intertwined on his face, making it hard to discern his exact emotions.

Shen Anning lowered her eyes slightly.

She hadn't expected Lu Suian to actually come and save her in time.

This was something that had never happened in her previous life.

At that moment, Shen Anning had to admit that he had descended like a god.

Never did she imagine that, in this reborn life, Lu Suian would become her savior.

Yet, this sleep had been filled with heavy nightmares.

In her dazed state, she dreamed of many events from her past life.

She had tried to convince herself to forget the past and maintain a respectful relationship with Lu Suian in this life. But this murder case and the life-threatening danger of that day had made her dream again of the tragic death she experienced in her previous life.

On one side, there was the painful experience of her past life.

On the other, there was the life-saving debt.

Shen Anning was momentarily unsure how to face this person.

As she was lost in thought, Lu Suian walked over with medicine and sat down by the bed.

After a day, the anxiety and fear from the previous night had gradually subsided within him. Lu Suian had regained his usual composure.

After a moment of silence, they spoke simultaneously.

"Heir, what about the suspect?"

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

Shen Anning was asking about the case.

Lu Suian, however, was asking about—

Lu Suian pursed his lips, staring intently at his wife. He was asking about last night, specifically the latter half of the night, or early this morning—the overwhelming hatred in her eyes, the resentment in her words. But now, her expression was clear, and she only inquired about the case, as if she remembered nothing of what had happened the previous night.

Including their later... intimacy.

Naturally, Shen Anning remembered the events of last night—how could she forget a matter of life and death? Just as she was about to nod, Lu Suian suddenly raised a spoon and said, "Take your medicine first."

With that, Lu Suian brought the medicine to her lips.

Shen Anning looked at the medicine before her and at his act of feeding her personally, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

In her previous life, Lu Suian had kept a clear distance from her. His eyes were only on official duties. Aside from their obligatory marital relations, they had almost no personal interactions. Even during her two years of illness later, although Lu Suian would visit her, he never personally fed her medicine.

Now, Shen Anning took a sip.

When Lu Suian moved to offer her more, Shen Anning snatched the medicine bowl from his hand and gulped it down, glug-glug-glug, in a few quick swallows.

Having taken herbal decoctions for two full years in her previous life, no one had more experience with medicine than her. Good medicine tastes bitter, but it's best swallowed quickly—lingering over it sip by sip only prolongs the agony. It was far more satisfying to finish it all at once.

Thus, after downing the entire bowl in one go, Shen Anning didn’t even flinch.

But when she looked up, she found Lu Suian gazing intently at her, as if observing or scrutinizing her. His gaze was peculiar, and she expected him to say something like, “Aren’t you afraid of the bitterness, madam?” or “How impressively shrewd.”

Yet, he said nothing at all.

Instead, with his expression unchanged, he handed her a piece of preserved fruit and said, “The suspect from that day has been apprehended. The bodies of all six victims have been recovered and will be buried together on a chosen date.”

Lu Suian informed her of the case’s outcome.

Shen Anning immediately pressed, “Is Princess Fuyang unharmed?” and added hurriedly, “Why did the suspect kill? Was it out of rage, or did he truly believe he could resurrect himself through magic?”

She recounted the suspect’s absurd plan to swap bodies and be reborn.

The case had caused irreparable damage in both of her lifetimes, and though Shen Anning suspected the man was deranged or possessed, she still wanted to know his true motives—the reason behind such a horrific tragedy.

Lu Suian explained, “The murderer, named Li Yu, grew up in the Pear Garden, the abandoned theater from that night. He was talented and was once groomed for great things. But when the theater met with disaster the year he turned nine, the troupe disbanded—some died, others fled. Because of his talent, he was sold off cheaply.”

The buyer, however, was the ruthless head of an unscrupulous opera troupe who exploited him for profit. Li Yu had a beautiful voice, more delicate and enchanting than a woman’s, and earned the troupe master considerable wealth, gaining some fame. But when he turned thirteen and his voice began to change, the troupe master, desperate to maintain his earnings, conspired with a former palace eunuch to castrate him.

They had hoped his voice would grow even more delicate, but instead it became shrill and thin, ruining his vocal talent entirely. Once he could no longer earn money for the troupe, he became the target of abuse from everyone around him.

Men and women alike took turns tormenting him.

Perhaps tired of being a man, and equally weary of being neither man nor woman, Li Yu grew obsessed with becoming a woman.

In the end, whether truly mad or clinging to some shred of sanity, he fell for wild ghost stories circulating in the streets, leading to his belief in resurrection, revival, and soul-transference rituals.

Hearing this, Shen Anning stood frozen, unable to process her emotions for a long time.

She couldn’t quite describe what she felt.

The case that had haunted her across two lifetimes—she never expected this to be the answer.

Yet the answer was oppressively heavy and heartbreaking.

The world is full of suffering souls. If this were true, then Li Yu’s fate was even more tragic than her own past life. Though she had lost her family, she was fortunate—fortunate to have met Butler Meng, fortunate to have been taken in by her adoptive father Wu Youcai. They gave her a new lease on life. Though she lived in poverty, she had 15 years of peace. Even her eventual tragic death did not erase the fact that she had tasted both bitterness and sweetness in this world.

Yet, even as she sympathized, she reminded herself to learn from this example. In this life, she didn’t aspire to sainthood, but at the very least, she wanted to live with a clear conscience—to be worthy before heaven, earth, and herself. Suffering is everywhere; one thought can lead to enlightenment, another to damnation. She didn’t hope to become a Buddha—only to avoid being controlled by the demons of her past, to avoid becoming a monster. She would be content living as an ordinary person.

“So, madam, do you believe in the notion of rebirth?”

Just as Shen Anning was lost in these heavy thoughts, Lu Suian’s sudden question caught her off guard.

Perhaps Li Yu’s story had shaken her too deeply, or perhaps Lu Suian’s words struck like lightning—unexpected and jarring. For a moment, she was too stunned to react.

Startled, her hand trembled, and she accidentally knocked over the medicine bowl.

With a sharp “smash,” the bowl shattered into pieces on the floor.

The sound jolted Shen Anning back to reality.

She looked up abruptly, her eyes meeting Lu Suian’s deep, unreadable gaze.

Her heart raced.

For a fleeting moment, she thought he had discovered something, guessed something. Lu Suian was perceptive—few things in this world could escape his notice.

But now, his expression was calm, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Sitting there so composed, he was utterly inscrutable to her.

*It can’t be,* she thought.

Lu Suian was a staunch atheist. The only thing he believed in was the truth.

And in this lifetime, he would never find evidence of her rebirth.

Even if he suspected, what could he do?

Steeling herself, Shen Anning forced herself to calm down. After a moment, she managed a faint smile and said lightly, “You jest, my lord. You might as well ask if I believe in ghosts.”

She shrugged. “Of course I do—like the gluttonous ghost, the starving ghost, the annoying ghost.”

Her joke fell flat, and she shivered as if chilled by her own words. Inwardly, she added dryly, *Oh, and the freezing ghost.*

Lu Suian seemed momentarily taken aback by her sudden attempt at humor. A faint smile might have touched his lips—or perhaps not. His expression was so neutral that Shen Anning couldn’t tell.

After a pause, he unexpectedly took her hand and placed something in her palm. Casually, yet pointedly, he asked, “Why did you go to Linglong Pavilion that day?”

And why had she specifically sent for him?

Lu Suian pressed further.

But Shen Anning had prepared an answer long ago. The moment he asked, she replied clearly and logically, “It was nothing, really. I simply couldn’t stand Princess Fuyang’s arrogance. She took over the entire Linglong Pavilion and even drove away our carriage, along with all the commoners on the street—just like the bullies I encountered in my village days. I’ve always despised such people. Now that I represent not just myself but the honor of the Marquis’s household, I lost my temper and decided to confront her.”

Afraid she might be outmatched, she had sent for him to back her up.

Whether Lu Suian believed her or not, her explanation was reasonable and left little room for doubt.

Sure enough, he studied her for a long moment before suddenly rising. “Princess Fuyang is safe and sound. You need not worry. The case is closed, and the matter is over. Do not dwell on it. At the end of the month, there will be a royal hunt at Jiuyou Mountain. Once you’ve recovered, I will take you there to relax.”

Lu Suian had many questions, but after hearing her carefully crafted answers, he held them back.

Some words, some truths, could not be rushed. There would be time. He would find the answers himself.

After instructing the servants to attend to Shen Anning, he left her to rest and returned to his study. On his desk lay a talisman torn in two, inscribed with the characters for “misfortune” and “death to those who go out today.”

Lu Suian took out the account book from Shen Anning’s desk and carefully compared the handwriting on the talisman with the entries.

Once he was gone, Shen Anning let out a long sigh. Dealing with him was exhausting—more draining than facing the deranged Li Yu that night.

However, the news that Princess Fuyang had survived brought a slight smile to her lips and eased her mind.

Perhaps this was the meaning of her second chance at life.

At least one person in this world had been granted a longer life because of her.

Even if she had nearly lost her own, the price was worth it.

But when she opened her hand and saw the phoenix bracelet Lu Suian had placed there, her smile faded.

The bracelet had been returned to her, its hidden mechanism repaired, the blade inside reset—as if it had never been tampered with.

Yet, gazing at the flawless bracelet and recalling Lu Suian’s behavior today, an inexplicable unease stirred within her.