Chapter 30: Reunion with an Old Acquaintance

She lowered her gaze, her eyes gently sweeping over Yun Chu…

Before the fall of the Wei Kingdom, the Left Minister had already returned home due to mourning obligations. At that time, Yun Chu was still just a prince and had not entered the court or engaged in political affairs, so he was unfamiliar with Gongliang Chong’s handwriting.

He looked at the note, trying to discern any clues from it.

But he soon gave up.

In his previous life, Gongliang Chong had never appeared before him. Despite ten years of hardship on his path of revenge, the Left Minister had never been by his side.

This man was an unknown variable.

After just one meeting today, Yun Chu couldn’t guess Gongliang Chong’s intentions.

But he was certain of one thing—he definitely wasn’t here to help him seek revenge.

Otherwise, he would have appeared in his past life.

Yun Chu cast a complicated glance at the sleeping Li Yunli, then crumpled the note and envelope into a ball of waste paper.

He moved closer to the candle stand and set it alight.

If the meeting wasn’t about revenge, then it must be about the unresolved matter of Baotou Mountain from earlier that day.

Meeting him once wouldn’t hurt.

Yun Chu held the burning paper ball, watching as the flames devoured the inked words before tossing it into the incense burner.

Then he straightened his clothes and stepped out.

Hongcui Tower was not far from the state government office. Gongliang Chong had chosen his location well—closer than even the bustling marketplace they had passed today.

Yun Chu carefully exited through the side door. Looking up, he could see the red lanterns hanging from the eaves of Hongcui Tower.

The economic downturn in Yongzhou had affected business at Hongcui Tower. The attendant at the entrance leaned idly against a red lacquered pillar, looking around absentmindedly.

As soon as he spotted Yun Chu, he immediately straightened up and approached him, as if he had been expecting him.

“Sir, are you here for a drink? Flowing water passes eastward; a guest has arrived today.”

The secret code matched. Yun Chu turned his gaze to the attendant and asked, “Which floor is Mr. Gongliang on?”

“Please follow me.”

The attendant led Yun Chu inside, stepping through the grand entrance of Hongcui Tower.

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Meanwhile, Li Yunli was not sleeping soundly. Her arm had gone numb from being pressed under her body, yet she was trapped in a dream, unable to wake.

The scent of burning paper lingered in the air. She sniffed unconsciously, and in her dream, she saw a bonfire burning.

The surroundings were dim, and the ground was damp. Li Yunli instinctively shrank closer to the fire.

On the other side of the fire, a man tore a page from a book, throwing it into the flames.

The fire blazed a little brighter.

Li Yunli heard her own weak voice chuckle, then ask, “You burn sacred scriptures to keep me warm—little monk, is it worth it?”

She saw that the book in his hand was a scripture. The man wore a worn monk’s robe, his face obscured by the dim light, but she could tell he was bald.

He chuckled as well. “With my defiance of the scriptures, how could I ever enter the Buddha’s gate? Just like you, Your Highness—merely playing a role.”

“Yongqing Temple is a century-old monastery, a place of purity, yet it produced a rebel like you.”

“Your Highness is no less rebellious.”

The young monk tossed the remaining half of the scripture into the fire.

They sat in silence for a long time.

Li Yunli’s consciousness remained quiet. She understood now—this was a memory from the original owner of her body, from when she was in Yongzhou.

She silently observed the figure before her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make out his face.

It was said that one rarely saw faces clearly in dreams. So instead, she lowered her gaze and watched the fire consume the monastery’s ancient scriptures.

Then she heard herself speak again, her voice laced with regret and lament.

“You took a life today.”

“To save others, I killed one. Even Buddha would understand my sincerity,” the monk said, unbothered but with a hint of regret. “I just didn’t expect that Yongqing Temple’s peculiar location would end up saving so many people. If I had known, this festival should have been even grander.”

That way, more lives could have been spared.

Li Yunli smiled weakly. “But you’re just a young monk, not capable of such grand plans.”

The monk sighed. “That’s true.”

Li Yunli only half understood his words but was unable to ask further.

As she pondered, memories surged into her mind like a flood.

It was the third year of Yuanhe. Floodwaters ravaged Yongzhou. Li Yunli, who was assisting in disaster relief, was caught in the disaster herself.

Yongzhou had already been in dire straits. On the day of the temple festival, the sudden flood swept through the city, sparing only those who had gathered at the temple.

The princess led the survivors up the mountain. Many of them had been soaked in the flood, their wounds prone to infection. The monastery had little medicine.

She herself was injured—a wound on her thigh from debris in the floodwaters.

The bleeding had stopped, but she had developed a fever.

Most of the refugees were suffering from the cold. The young monk gathered herbs to make medicine, only to discover a pregnant woman among them, her body too weak from the ordeal.

So he secretly defied his master, snuck into the mountains, caught a pheasant, and made soup for her. That act saved her life.

In her haze, Li Yunli heard the monk sigh deeply and recite a Buddhist verse.

“Everything arises from emptiness.”

She didn’t understand its meaning, only that her head felt heavier.

Drowsily, she asked, “Little monk, what’s your name?”

“Jing Kong.”

He answered softly, then crushed some herbs into a paste and applied them to her wound. “Don’t sleep yet. If you sleep, you might not wake up. I just killed a chicken for soup—you have to bear witness for me before Buddha.”

Her consciousness was slipping away, but she still managed a weak smile. “You’re certainly not a proper monk.”

She struggled to stay awake but couldn’t control her body. The world turned black, and silence enveloped her.

She was trapped in darkness, unable to see her hand before her face.

“What’s going on? Is anyone there?”

She called out. No one answered. No wind stirred.

This wasn’t the first time she had dreamed of the original owner’s memories, but it was the first time she was unable to wake up.

Was there a connection between this dream and her current reality?

Why was she dreaming about this now?

Her mind sharpened.

The first time she had such a dream was after meeting Xiao Linjia—Yun Chu had mentioned the general in that dream. At the time, she thought it was just a nightmare.

The second time was right before the assassination attempt—her dream had shown Yun Chu and her fighting together, and in reality, they had analyzed the situation together.

Now, this was the third time.

Nothing happens without reason.

Li Yunli was a pragmatist but wasn’t one to dismiss signs.

And given that she had transmigrated into a novel’s world, she couldn’t ignore the possibility of supernatural events.

She began searching for a pattern.

And so, in the infinite darkness, she sat down cross-legged.

The only face she had ever clearly seen in these dreams was Yun Chu’s.

At that thought, realization struck her like a flash of lightning!

Suddenly, the scent of burning paper returned.

Li Yunli opened her eyes!

The window was open, wind and rain blowing in. Her thin robes did little to shield her from the cold.

She shivered.

“Yun Chu?”

She looked around. The room was unchanged—except Yun Chu was gone.

Smoke rose from the incense burner, filling the air with an acrid scent.

She opened the lid. Inside, a partially burned letter still smoldered.

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Meanwhile, at Hongcui Tower…

Yun Chu pushed open the door.

Gongliang Chong rose and greeted him with a Wei court bow.

“Third Prince, it has been a long time.”