After Murong Feng was finally satisfied, he set about applying medicine to Luo Huanghun’s ankle.
Luo Huanghun was on edge, terrified he’d start something again. She was careful not to make a sound.
It was the first time Murong Feng had tended to her injuries. His rough fingers were surprisingly gentle as he massaged the medicine in, and it felt incredibly soothing.
Luo Huanghun pursed her lips and suddenly asked, “Murong Feng, why do you suddenly want to marry me?”
Murong Feng’s fingers froze. He looked up at her, his usually cold eyes showing a rare trace of tenderness. “Ling’er, have you really forgotten me?”
Luo Huanghun’s head shot up, her mind going blank.
What did he mean? How did he know her childhood name was Ling’er?
“Three years ago, on the back mountain of Baima Temple, you saved me. I was about to head off to war, but I promised myself I’d find you when I returned. Heaven favored me—I came back victorious, and before I could even look for you, I met you again.”
Murong Feng smiled and produced a sachet. “It was this scent. I recognized it in the cave.”
“I’ve finally found you.”
Luo Huanghun closed her eyes, and suddenly remembered.
Her grandfather had been a famous physician, but his son had no interest in medicine and became a scholar, eventually rising to lead the upright officials at court.
Luo Huanghun had always been rebellious, except when learning medicine from her grandfather—then she was obedient. She inherited all his medical skills.
Three years ago, after her grandfather’s death, she was angry at the Luo family for neglecting him and stubbornly stayed at Baima Temple’s back mountain to mourn him.
There, she had found Murong Feng, caught in a trap and wounded by a snare.
She treated his injuries, but then it poured rain and she fell ill with a fever. Half-conscious, she vaguely saw Murong Feng take her sachet and crawl out of the trap. Later, Luo Chenhui found her and brought her home.
After that fever, she forgot some things. She returned to the Luo family, became the gentle and proper young lady, never again as bold and unruly as before.
Only in her marriage did she defy her parents, insisting on marrying the Prime Minister’s son, Ren Jingsi.
The Prime Minister was ambitious. After eliminating his greatest rival, the warlord Prince Guangling, he set his sights on the upright Luo family.
Luo Huanghun was the breakthrough. The Ren family used her as leverage, forcing the Luo family to take sides and ultimately help the Prime Minister consolidate power.
Once the Luo family was no longer useful, Luo Huanghun was imprisoned to death by Ren Jingsi, Luo Chenhui died unjustly, and the Luo family was destroyed.
All these memories came flooding back.
As a wandering ghost, Luo Huanghun had witnessed all these scenes—tragedies she herself had set in motion.
In her past life, she hadn’t understood her parents’ silent endurance and worry. She’d been lost in romance, neglecting what truly mattered.
Luo Huanghun finally broke down in tears.
Murong Feng didn’t know why she was crying so bitterly. He could only hold her in his arms. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. If it’ll help, you can hit me a few times.”
Looking at Murong Feng’s helplessness, Luo Huanghun suddenly laughed through her tears, whispering, “Why did you come so late…”
Why hadn’t Murong Feng found her in her last life?
She’d been trapped in the mire for so long, she’d thought there was no more light in the world.
That’s why, when she finally saw a glimmer of hope, she’d thrown herself toward it without hesitation.
She was grateful for this second chance.
Murong Feng hugged her tighter. “As long as I’m alive, I’ll always find you.”
Luo Huanghun began to cry even harder.
How could she have forgotten? In her previous life, Murong Feng had never made it back.