Wish You All the Best - Extra Chapter 7

Extra Chapter - If the Past Could Be Rewritten (Part III)

Half a month after the Crown Prince’s grand wedding, the Emperor of Wei granted his youngest son the title of Prince of Yunzhong and ordered the Ministry of Rites to oversee his marriage to Pei Wenjing, the daughter of the Duke of Wei.

In the spring of the following year, the Emperor of Wei passed away due to illness, and the Crown Prince ascended to the throne. Three months later, the new Emperor, citing ancestral tradition, sent the Prince of Yunzhong to his fiefdom in Wuding, Yunnan.

Whispers circulated through the court that the Prince of Yunzhong was loathed by the new Emperor. On the day he departed the capital, save for a scant few including Pei Xian, there was no one to see him off.

After months of trekking, Xiao Lie and his entourage finally entered Yunnan, immediately pressing onward without rest toward his fiefdom in Wuding.

At that time, Wuding was merely a chaotic city on the southwestern frontier. It had only come under the imperial court's jurisdiction a dozen years prior and was far from the prosperity and stability it would see decades later. The roads were dilapidated, the people’s livelihoods were destitute, and bandits ran rampant. They had not been in the territory for even a day when they encountered two separate groups of robbers on the wild mountain paths. The bandits were vicious and lawless, but fortunately, Xiao Lie had heard rumors of them beforehand and had stayed by the side of Pei Wenjing’s carriage, never leaving it for an instant. Before the bandits could even get close, he and his guards had cut them down on the road.

The news of the Prince of Yunzhong’s arrival spread like wildfire. The bandits fled upon hearing the wind, and for the following days, the road remained peaceful.

As the carriage carrying the Princess was nearing Wuding City, heavy rain made the roads bumpy and treacherous. A wheel sank into a muddy stone pit, and the axle snapped, rendering it unable to proceed.

There were no villages ahead or shops behind, and as dusk was approaching, Pei Wenjing transferred to the baggage cart following behind to avoid spending the night in the wilderness. Crammed into a corner, she finally entered the city and reached the Prince’s residence before nightfall.

The Prince’s residence was the former site of the city administrator’s office. Although it was large, it had been burned during the wars a dozen years ago when the imperial court reclaimed the land. Over half of the buildings were damaged, and they had not been repaired in all the years since. Upon entering the main gate, what greeted their eyes was nothing but ruin and decay.

The room where Xiao Lie and Pei Wenjing stayed that night was the best in the residence, but the rain was torrential. In the middle of the night, the tiled roof in the corner began to leak. The rainwater seeped slowly down the walls, pooling under the bed and flowing into a hole in the ground. Mice hidden there scurried out, and finding no exit from the room, they panicked and scurried up the bed frame to the top of the canopy, crawling back and forth while emitting squeaky chirps.

The exhaustion of travel, the dilapidation of the fiefdom, the bleakness of their future... none of these could cool the hearts of the two young people, which remained tightly knit together. The young man’s energy was seemingly endless; having just shared a moment of intimacy, he was still yearning for more, but seeing his beautiful wife was truly exhausted, her starry eyes half-open and half-closed, he could not bear to force her and let her sleep.

Pei Wenjing was just drifting into a hazy slumber when she was suddenly startled awake by the mice crawling above her head. She let out a cry, her sleepiness vanishing instantly, and dove into the arms of the man beside her, her jade-like arms wrapping tightly around him, refusing to let go.

Xiao Lie laughed, kissing and comforting her. Finally, he wrapped her in the quilt, climbed out of bed, drew his sword, and chased the mice away, finally evicting the uninvited guests. He pulled back the curtains and returned to bed, seeing her still huddled under the quilt, head and all. Only when she heard the motion of him returning did she poke a pair of bright, beautiful eyes out from the covers, cast a quick glance at the canopy, and ask him if the mice were gone.

Xiao Lie had originally intended to tease her a little more, just so she would burrow into his arms again and hold him, refusing to let go.

He loved the feeling of being held tightly by her, seeking his protection, as if he were her entire world.

But the moment he met her beautiful eyes, his emotions suddenly plummeted.

She had been the apple of the Pei family’s eye, like a rare and delicate orchid, deserving of the most precious care in the world. Yet now, she had followed him far away from the bustling capital to this southwestern frontier, forced to endure so much hardship.

He was called a Prince, and she was his Princess. Yet, he could not even provide her with a room where she could sleep securely when she was tired.

The smile on his lips gradually faded.

"A-Jing, blame my incompetence for making you suffer with me..."

He said in a low voice.

Throughout this journey of hardships, she, who had been coddled since childhood, had not uttered a single complaint.

In the depths of his heart, his guilt only grew.

Pei Wenjing met his gaze, and a smile slowly blossomed on her lips.

"I have never felt even a shred of suffering. I am your wife. Wherever you go, I go as well. We are together, and we shall never be separated."

Her voice was soft, but every word carried a strength of resilience that reached straight into the depths of his heart.

The young Prince of Yunzhong gazed at the face beside him on the pillow—a face that had haunted his dreams since his youth—and leaned over, pulling her tightly into his arms and kissing her tenderly, as if she were the most precious treasure in the world.

Indeed, she was the most precious treasure he possessed in this world.

He had nearly lost her—lost her forever—yet tonight, he lay in bed with her. How fortunate he was.

The prince who had once known no sorrow was gone, never to return.

In this moment, he swore in his heart that for the rest of his life, he would do everything in his power to offer her the best of everything he could give.

...

Three years later, the old Duke of Wei, who had been stripped of his position and was living in leisure, passed away. Xiao Lie petitioned to enter the capital to attend the funeral, but Emperor Tianxi denied the request. Subsequently, Xiao Lie was accused before Emperor Tianxi of conspiring in high treason. Following this, the Prince of Shun’an accused Pei Xian, who had only recently inherited his father’s title, of participating in the treason as well. Emperor Tianxi was enraged, throwing Pei Xian into prison, stripping Xiao Lie of his princely title, and ordering troops to capture and bring him to justice. Xiao Lie issued a proclamation to the world, justifying his innocence and claiming that, to protect himself, he was leading his troops in revolt.

According to the Records of Wei, at the beginning of the Ancestral Emperor’s uprising, his forces numbered no more than a few tens of thousands, while the imperial army numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Everyone said it was like a mayfly shaking a tree and that he was bound to fail. Unexpectedly, the heavens lent their aid. The following year, just as the Ancestral Emperor’s situation was becoming critical, news came from the palace that Emperor Tianxi had died of a sudden illness. It was claimed that before his death, he had passed the throne to the Prince of Shun’an, who had always been in the Emperor's favor. The entire court was in an uproar; rumors flew, and all suspected the Prince of Shun’an had staged a palace coup, murdered Emperor Tianxi, and usurped the throne. Xiao Lie seized the opportunity to win the hearts of the people, rising against the tide. With support from many sides, three years later, he marched his forces into the capital, was enthroned as Emperor, and established the era name "Zhaoping." He was known as the Ancestral Emperor.

That year, Xiao Lie was only twenty-five. He and Empress Pei already had a son and a daughter, and they lived in happiness.

On the first Lantern Festival after his enthronement, he took Empress Pei’s hand, and they stood side by side on the summit of the Zhaixing Pavilion, gazing afar at the city full of brilliant lanterns. Recalling the Lantern Festival night when they were fifteen, they looked at each other and smiled, both filled with nostalgia.

That night, the Emperor and Empress talked until dawn, unable to sleep.

In the Emperor’s mind, the dream within a dream—the one that had awakened him years ago in the military camp on the wilderness outside the Great Wall—surfaced once again.

The gaze of the young man in that dream remained deeply etched in his mind even now, impossible to forget.

He would never be able to forget it for the rest of his life.

The person in the dream surely shared some connection with him that he did not understand, a connection that ran deep into the marrow, impossible to sever.

The Emperor’s intuition convinced him of this.

He wanted to know who he was, and for what reason he had entered his dreams to fulfill his destiny with his beloved, thereby changing both their lives.

He wanted even more to know where he was now and what he was doing. In this lifetime, would he ever be able to see him again?

...

The year after Xiao Lie ascended the throne, Zhaoping Year 1, in Quanzhou City on the southeastern coast, a wealthy merchant family named Zhen was full of joy.

The grandfather of the Zhen household had bestowed kindness upon an official surnamed Meng in his early years, so Master Meng had given one of his daughters in marriage to the Zhen family. The young couple’s affection was deep and sincere. They had already had one son, named Zhen Yaoting. On this day, Madam Meng successfully gave birth to a daughter, who was as beautiful as jade and snow, clever and bright. They named her Jiafu, and the couple raised her as the apple of their eyes.

Years flew by, and the Zhen family’s business grew larger and larger, making them the wealthiest family in Quanzhou. The Zhen daughter blossomed as well; at only five or six years old, she was already a consummate beauty, and everyone who saw her loved her. That year, Madam Meng brought her children to the Jinxian Temple on South Mountain to pray and make offerings, wishing for her husband’s safety on the seas—ever since she married into the Zhen family, every time her husband sailed, such pilgrimages were a pious necessity for Madam Meng.

The Golden Buddha Temple was located on South Mountain outside the city. It was a thousand-year-old monastery. It was said that a thousand years ago, the Chan master who had traveled to build the temple had attained the Great Way there and become an Arhat, hence the name Golden Buddha. The mountain was covered in strange peaks and overlapping ranges, with clear springs singing in the ravines. In the temple, there were green pines and cypress trees, with birds singing among them—a secluded and wonderful place with a unique Zen atmosphere.

Because there was a Dharma assembly that day, Madam Meng finished her pious worship and went to listen to the teachings. At noon, she had a vegetarian meal. Seeing that little Jiafu was tired, Madam Meng took her two children to a quiet room for a nap, instructing the servants to accompany them while she went to the front to continue listening to the sermon.

Little Jiafu’s brother, Yaoting, was mischievous by nature; how could he lie still? After struggling to close his eyes for a moment, seeing that his mother had left and taking advantage of the fact that the servant watching over them was not in the room, he quietly shook his sister awake, leaned to her ear, and said he had discovered a fun place in the rear of the temple that morning, offering to lead her there to play. Little Jiafu was thus led by her brother to the rear of the temple.

The temple was crowded with pilgrims that day, and it was the season for spring outings, with peach blossoms in full bloom. Visitors came and went incessantly. Her brother, like a restless monkey, darted back and forth through the crowds. Jiafu, with her short legs, could not keep up. When she turned back, she found his figure gone. Suppressing the panic in her heart, she searched for a while. Not only could she not find her brother, she realized she had unknowingly walked into a desolate and empty area. She could not find her way back, nor could she see another soul. Fear welled up in her heart, and she could not help but shed tears.

Wiping her tears as she went, she called out for her brother, but he remained nowhere to be found. She felt as if she were walking further and further astray. Finally, she dared not walk any further and stopped on a mountain path, wailing. Just as she was crying in anguish, she suddenly heard a gentle voice beside her ear: "What is wrong with you?"

Jiafu raised her eyes, and through her tear-blurred vision, she saw a strange youth standing beneath a peach tree by the roadside.

He looked about the same age as her brother. His clothes were washed until they were pale, but they were clean and spotless. He held a book in his hand, as if he had been reading nearby when he was drawn over by her crying.

He was as lean as bamboo, extremely good-looking, with black, bright eyes—so bright that Jiafu could almost see her own reflection in his pupils.

For some reason, the moment she saw him, all her panic and fear suddenly vanished.

Deep down, she felt as if she had met him somewhere before, but she could not recall where.

Jiafu forgot to cry and just stared blankly at the person in front of her.

"Do not be afraid. I will take you back now."

The youth put down his book, squatted down, and used his own sleeve to gently and lovingly wipe away the tears and snot she had just cried, not minding at all that she was dirty. He then broke a branch of peach blossoms for her and handed it to her.

Little Jiafu broke into a smile through her tears, accepted the peach blossoms he had picked for her, looked up at this gentle and handsome little youth, and asked, "Who are you? Where do you live?"

The youth looked at the chubby little girl in front of him, who was looking up at him with her small face, and remained silent, deep in the bottom of his eyes lay a thousand strands of gentle light.

In her previous life, she had sought his help in her time of desperation. After that brief meeting, they had no further contact, each walking the path of their own life.

She was ultimately buried alive in the underground palace, and he also died early in a lonely city beyond the Great Wall while still in the prime of his youth.

People said he was a natural talent. Not only was he known as a young Prime Minister and an eminent scholar, but later, he had assisted the Emperor to the throne as the primary meritorious official, reaching the pinnacle of officialdom.

He was both a Confucian minister and a grand commander. In the years before his death, he had intimidated the frontier, causing the Hu to return north, never daring to turn back. He had also educated the common people, established medical clinics, and pacified the nation, causing all sides to submit to his rule.

He died from a bowl of poisoned wine.

He knew that once he drank the medicine, everything in this life—all the glory and the shame—would come to a sudden halt on that snowy night in the lonely city, buried forever.

But he drank it anyway.

That bowl of poison had long been within his expectations.

He had also prepared for that day.

It was not because he feared the one who wanted him dead.

It was because he had no desire to contend for it.

In that world, he could not think of anyone or anything that still tethered him.

He was, after all, a superfluous person; to leave was merely to return to his place.

He departed very peacefully, but at the very moment before his death, he did not know why, but a scene surfaced in his mind: the cousin he had met briefly many years before, the moment she had found him and begged him for help, those tearful eyes filled with fear and gratitude.

After that war, the cousin he had once helped was said to have unfortunately died in the chaos of battle, with no sign of her remains, and there was no news of her after that.

He had thought he had long forgotten, but it turned out that after so many years, the scene of the day she had run to him for help had always been imprinted deep in his mind. He had never forgotten it, and in the moments before his death, those beautiful eyes had surfaced once more.

After he died, the people built a temple for him and offered incense, preventing his soul from dissipating. It was only then that he finally learned that she hadn't died back then; she had been hidden in the deep palace and finally buried alive underground. Her fate was so thin that even the Arbiter of Life could not bear it, and thus he ordered her to be reincarnated and reborn.

Fortunately, in the world where she was reborn, after undergoing many trials, she had finally achieved a good union with the self of that world. That self of hers had also attained completion in life because of her arrival.

While feeling comforted, deep in his heart, he could not help but secretly envy the self who was lucky enough to have her company day and night.

Even if his spirit did not dissipate after death, even if he lived as long as the heavens, what difference was there between him and a lonely ghost if his heart had nowhere to return, gazing upon the azure seas and the desolate heavens, morning and night?

In this lifetime, there were too many regrets. Whether it was her, his birth parents who gave him life, or his relatives of the Pei family who had raised him, all had been subjected to tragic fates.

He told the Arbiter of Life that he was willing to abandon his immortal spirit in exchange for a life without regrets for all of these people.

...

The youth remained deep in thought for a moment and smiled. "I live right here. You can call me Brother You'an."

"Brother You'an..."

Jiafu read his name seriously once and nodded. "I will remember."

She liked this young brother named You'an and smiled at him, her eyes curving into two crescent moons.

When the youth led her back to the front, Madam Meng was incredibly anxious, having the family and the temple monks search everywhere for her daughter. Suddenly seeing Jiafu running toward her, she hugged her tightly, weeping with joy.

In her mother’s arms, Jiafu looked back and saw Brother You'an nodding at her with a smile before turning to leave, his figure gradually disappearing into the crowd.

Once Madam Meng’s emotions had settled, she remembered the youth who had brought her daughter back. She looked around, but the person was already gone.

Judging by the youth’s attire, he seemed to come from a poor background. Madam Meng was grateful to him for bringing back her daughter and described the youth to the monks in the temple. The monks listened, smiled, and told her that the youth was an orphan with no father or mother. When he was still in swaddling clothes, he had been brought from outside by a Chan master—a grand-uncle wandering abroad—and was adopted into the temple. The child had been exceptionally clever since he was young; at three, he began to read and had a photographic memory. The master had originally intended to take him as his final disciple, but later, for some unknown reason, he gave up this plan, giving him the national surname and bestowing upon him the secular name, You'an. Two years prior, despite his young age, he had been recorded as a xiucai (a scholar) with the highest marks in the prefecture. This had shocked the entire prefectural academy. The academic official personally came to the temple to test his knowledge and intended to take him into the academy, but he was politely refused. Now, he still lived in a hut on the back mountain, eating porridge and reading books all day, remaining poor and upholding the Way.

When Madam Meng returned, she told her husband about this.

Master Zhen had also heard of the talented youth’s reputation in the Golden Buddha Temple. Since there was such a coincidental opportunity, he personally went to the temple to visit him. He saw that the youth, although young, was generous, dignified, and neither arrogant nor servile. He liked him very much and was even more convinced that although the youth came from a poor background, he would certainly not be a fish in a pond for long in the future. After returning, he could not stop thinking about it. One day, while holding his daughter on his lap, he suddenly had an eccentric idea: to take the youth as his son-in-law.

He was a man of action; once the thought occurred, he immediately told Madam Meng. Madam Meng naturally agreed. Master Zhen informed his mother, and then they rushed to the Golden Buddha Temple, found the grand-uncle Chan master who had adopted the boy that day, and explained their intentions.

He looked at the Chan master anxiously, fearing the master would refuse. Unexpectedly, the master heard him out, offered no objection, and simply led him to the hut where the youth lived, asking if he was willing to be recruited as the Zhen family’s son-in-law.

The youth was sitting behind a desk, holding a scroll. He put down the book, stepped over the threshold, faced Master Zhen, and without the slightest hesitation, knelt down squarely, kowtowed, and called him "Father-in-law."

Master Zhen was overjoyed and established the marriage contract on the spot. From that day on, he frequently visited, sent people to bring rice and clothing, and treated this youth as his own flesh and blood.

Thus, time flew like an arrow. From the day Jiafu met him on the back mountain of the Golden Buddha Temple when she was six, thousands of days flowed quietly through their fingertips like flowing water.

She and her Brother You'an were childhood sweethearts, their days peaceful and beautiful.

That year was already Zhaoping Year 13. Jiafu had turned thirteen, her bloom like a pomegranate flower, her peerless beauty just beginning to emerge, and he had also turned sixteen, growing into a handsome, elegant, and refined young man.

She remembered that when they were small, every time her father brought her to see him, Jiafu loved to follow by his side, calling him "Brother You'an," "Brother You'an." Wherever he went, she had to follow, even if she did nothing but watch him read and write at the window for half a day, never wearying, never willing to leave.

Later, as she gradually grew up and understood that he was her future husband, and after she learned to be shy, she no longer sought him out as often as she did when she was small. But deep in her heart, she was always thinking of him. Sometimes when he came to the Zhen house, she would hide in the shadows and secretly watch him; even if she only saw his figure from afar, her heart would be filled with sweetness, pounding like a deer.

Father said that after she came of age, he would hold the wedding for her and Brother You'an, making them husband and wife.

That year, he, at sixteen, was to participate in the provincial examinations. Because it was a matter of great importance, Jiafu’s father canceled his originally scheduled ocean voyage, deciding to stay home and wait until he finished the provincial examinations.

What Master Zhen did not expect was that because of this temporarily changed plan, his life was saved.

A few months later, the fleet of another family that had originally agreed to sail together encountered an unpredictable, violent storm and raging waves while sailing in the outer seas. The ships capsized. Finally, except for one sailor who grabbed a mast floating on the sea and was luckily rescued by someone, no one survived.

When the news arrived, Master Zhen was saddened, but he was also thankful that he had escaped such a disaster.

If he had gone to sea at that time, whether or not he could have returned was truly unknown.

Master Zhen escaped a disaster. Once You'an finished the provincial examinations, in November, good news arrived.

He passed the provincial examinations, becoming the youngest juren (successful provincial candidate) in the history of Quanzhou.

Guests from all directions came to offer congratulations incessantly, and the Zhen family’s faces were filled with joy all day long.

By the next year’s spring palace examinations, Xiao You'an entered the capital for the metropolitan examinations. Just then, the situation in the north had begun to stir again after being stable for more than a decade. The Emperor ordered all scholars in the world to use this as a topic for their policy essays. His article was profound and incisive, based on reason and evidence, and could be called a strategy for supreme victory. The examiner was amazed and marked it as zhuangyuan (top-ranked scholar), sending it to the Imperial presence for review. After reading it, the Emperor was overjoyed. He also learned that the person who wrote this article was only seventeen years old that spring. He was even more surprised and, unable to wait, immediately summoned him to the palace for an audience.

That year, Xiao Lie had been Emperor for more than a dozen years, nearing forty.

At the first glance of this young scholar named Xiao You'an, the Emperor was stunned.

He recognized at a glance that this seventeen-year-old youth in front of him was the same young man who had entered his dream and guided him many years ago.

Although he had not yet grown into the appearance of the young man in his dreams, his facial features were already extremely similar.

Especially that pair of bright eyes that one could never forget; they were exactly the same. He would absolutely not recognize him wrongly!

Xiao Lie was incredibly shocked. After the morning court session, he summoned the youth alone in the Imperial Study, asked him about his life in detail, and learned that he was an orphan who grew up in the temple. Sighing with emotion, he summoned Empress Pei.

Empress Pei had long known about the strange dream her husband had experienced in those years.

Throughout these years, she also often dreamed, and in her dreams, she saw another child. She wanted to see that child clearly, but there was always a blur in front of her. After waking up, deep in her heart, it was as if a corner was missing, and she often felt filled with regret.

At this very moment, seeing this youth, for some unknown reason, a feeling of both sadness and joy slowly grew in her heart, as if he were the son she had lost for many years in her dreams. Her tears could not be controlled and burst forth, and she personally went over to help him up.

Without any opposition, this seventeen-year-old youth was announced at the Golden Palace and ranked first as the top scholar.

Once the list was posted, the whole world knew. The news that the Zhen family’s son-in-law, who had once been ridiculed behind his back as a man who married into his wife’s family, had become the top scholar soon spread to Quanzhou. The Zhen family was as lively as the New Year. Master Zhen personally set off firecrackers outside the gate and posted celebratory scrolls. People who came to offer congratulations arrived one after another from morning to night, almost trampling the threshold of the Zhen family.

With the husband’s noble status, the wife became noble; thus, overnight, she also became the luckiest person most envied in the eyes of everyone.

However, in the days when she waited for his return, in Quanzhou City, some rumors slowly began to circulate again.

It was said that the Emperor highly appreciated him and entrusted him with important tasks. He had achieved success at a young age, and his future was boundless.

It was also said that in the capital, officials with daughters of marriageable age were either hiring people or speaking out personally, all wanting to recruit him as a son-in-law.

So some people said that the youth was not what he used to be; now that he had leaped through the dragon’s gate, the Zhen family was merely a merchant family. They feared the youth would despise the Zhen family’s lineage and would never return.

Such rumors spread more and more widely. Finally, even the Zhen family knew about it.

Her parents were very annoyed and even more afraid that their daughter would be heartbroken. Jiafu, however, smiled at it. Not only that, she comforted her parents instead.

From the very first moment he appeared in front of her, Jiafu had developed a deep trust in him.

She trusted him completely and firmly believed that even if she and he were separated by thousands of mountains and rivers, in the darkness, it was predestined; a red line had tied him and her together.

In the year she was six, that red string had brought him to her side.

Her Brother You'an—whether he was a poor scholar in the Golden Buddha Temple or the top scholar known throughout the world today—would definitely return to marry her. On this point, Jiafu had no doubts.

Her total trust was rewarded.

In the autumn of that year, the poor youth who had once lived in the ancient temple achieved great success and returned home in glory. As the news spread, it shocked the entire city. Countless people crowded to the street corner, just to get a glimpse of the young top scholar’s elegant demeanor. That day, he rode his horse into the city and went straight to the Zhen family. While he was still an arrow’s distance away, he dismounted and walked, arriving in front of the Zhen family’s gate. Facing Master Zhen, who had come out to welcome him upon hearing the news, he respectfully performed the ritual of a son-in-law. Countless rumors were broken without attack. Everyone said that Master Zhen not only did business well, but for many years, his boat voyages had been blessed by the heavens, and his eye for choosing a son-in-law was also higher than others. When the youth was poor, he had snatched the opportunity to set the marriage contract. Otherwise, given his status today, how could the Zhen family have climbed so high as to have him as a son-in-law?

The following year, after Jiafu had completed her coming-of-age ceremony, at fifteen, she had her wish fulfilled and finally married her Brother You'an.

The hibiscus brocade canopy was fragrant and alluring; before the jade hall, the feelings were like water. The festive candles flickered, reflecting the two figures snuggling together inside the brocade canopy.

"Brother You'an, the first time I saw you when I was a child, I felt you looked familiar. Had I met you somewhere before?"

The young bride stretched out a jade-like arm, hugging the waist of her beloved young lord, opened her eyes, and asked him curiously.

For a long time, this feeling had troubled her, and tonight she was finally able to ask.

He gazed at her beautiful, blushing cheeks, and a smile gradually welled up in the depths of his eyes. He smiled without answering, and finally, he pulled her into his arms, using a kiss to block her small mouth that kept asking questions.

He had sacrificed all his previous lives to come here alone, accompany her as she slowly grew up, all just to wait for this day.

He would marry her as his wife, grow old with her, protect her, and let her live without worry or fear, living in peace and happiness in this life.

In another world, he and she were living together happily, and in this lifetime, he and she would do the same.

(The End)