He Yiyao stared at the round antique mirror displayed inside the glass cabinet, unable to bring herself to blink. She was completely drawn in by its beauty.

“If you like it, you can take a closer look,” the antique shop owner spoke with a gentle smile. His warm tone carried a natural charm, making him easy to trust.

He Yiyao nodded eagerly, though she knew the price was likely beyond her reach, but that did not matter. She wanted to hold it and feel its texture in her palm.

The owner unlocked the cabinet and carefully took out the bronze mirror. “This is a rare fish-patterned bronze mirror from the Han Dynasty. Most Han bronze mirrors feature dragon, tiger, phoenix, and bird motifs. This one, with its green and red oxidation is remarkably well-preserved. It’s said to have been a treasured possession of the famous Han general—Huo Qubing. You have a keen eye, miss.”

He Yiyao carefully cradled the bronze mirror. The four carved koi fish swam in delicate relief, each one lifelike, each one unique. The curves and lines gave them motion, as if they drifted through water.

The mirror was about the size of her palm, thin, and very light, much lighter than she had expected. She wondered if it was a replica, but when she flipped it over and saw the mottled surface, her certainty wavered.

The mirror surface was still relatively smooth but marked by scratches, each one representing the relentless passage of time. She could faintly see her own blurred reflection in the mirror. The beauty in its obscurity made He Yiyao reluctant to put it down.

She had wandered into the antique shop by chance on her way to a tutoring class. The name, however, had caught her attention with its unusualness, Ya She—a name that could also be known as Silent House.

Curious, she asked the owner why the shop was called Ya She. 

The owner replied, “Every item here has its own story, one that has been carried through the years but remains unheard. It is impossible for them to talk. That is why it is called Ya She.”

Even though the shop was shabby and had little business, He Yiyao knew that if everything inside were genuine, the prices would be far beyond what a third-year high school student could afford.

Just as she was about to leave, she spotted the very antique mirror.

She wanted it. But how would that be possible?

She was unwilling to let go of the mirror; the cool touch felt oddly comforting, as though it had stirred something warm inside her.

An absurd excuse flashed through her mind. “Sir, our school’s drama club is putting on a play and we need an antique mirror. Could we rent this one for a month?” She told herself it was just a whim, and by the time a month had passed, she might no longer care for the dirty old mirror.

However, she felt like her request was too much. Just as she was about to say more to salvage the situation, she unexpectedly heard the young antique shop owner answer, “Sure.”

He Yiyao was stunned for a moment, then eagerly began asking what collateral she needed to provide and how much the deposit would be. To her surprise, the owner only asked for her student ID for registration and nothing else.

“10 yuan, let’s just call it a token amount,” the antique shop owner casually said.

So cheap? 

He Yiyao somehow felt regretful; if she had known, she would have just asked for the price directly. 

Perhaps she was overthinking, and this bronze mirror was actually a replica. But since she had already said she wanted to rent it, she stiffened her resolve and signed her name in the register. She decided that if she still liked the mirror after a month, she would definitely return to ask for the actual price.

The young owner glanced at the name she had registered, his slender eyes narrowing further. His long fingers traced over the character “Yao” in her name, and he said ambiguously, “Oh, by the way, there’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?” He Yiyao, still engrossed in the mirror, reflexively looked up at his words.

“You must remember this—never, under any circumstances, should you clean the mirror. Never.” As he said that, He Yiyao vaguely noticed a strange smile on the otherwise ordinary-looking owner’s lips.

But she did not pay much attention. At that moment, she was too focused on carefully wrapping the mirror and putting it in her bag, eager to get to her tutoring class.

After finishing her homework that evening, He Yiyao turned on her small desk lamp and carefully examined the antique mirror in her hands.

“How did historical women even do their makeup with such a blurry mirror?” He Yiyao muttered softly as she stared at her indistinct reflection. 

She noticed the mottled scratches and initially wanted to use an alcohol wipe meant for cleaning computer screens to clean it. However, as soon as her hand touched the mirror’s surface, the antique shop owner’s warning suddenly echoed in her mind.

“You must remember this—never, under any circumstances, should you clean the mirror. Never.”

Reluctantly, He Yiyao put down the alcohol wipe. It seemed the mirror really was a replica, and the owner was just worried she’d make it look too new if she cleaned it. Absolutely ridiculous!

As she was about to put the mirror down, a casual glance made her heart skip a beat.

She realized that the blurred figure in the mirror… it did not seem like her. At the very least, there was no way she would have an extra hairpin on her head, and the figure did not move along with her.

“Who… who are you?” He Yiyao could not help but question aloud.

No response.

She sighed in relief and rubbed her eyes, ready to dismiss it as just her vision playing tricks on her. But just as she was about to give up, a faint, ethereal voice suddenly echoed through the still room.

“Who… who art thou?”

The voice was so soft that He Yiyao almost convinced it was her imagination. But in the next moment, she stared intently at the mirror in her hand.

“Who… art thou?”

The voice was clearer this time, and it was unmistakably coming from the mirror.

Under the light of the desk lamp, the scratches on the mottled surface were even more obvious. But this time, He Yiyao was certain that the blurred figure in the mirror was not her own.

“Who art thou?” The figure in the mirror seemed to have noticed her as well and exclaimed in surprise.

“I am no stranger… I am He Yiyao,” she replied softly in ancient language, her face instantly darkened in disbelief. 

Was she losing her mind? Or… could it be that this bronze mirror was genuine, and there was a ghost trapped inside?

“I am Huo Qubing.” This time, the voice from the mirror responded much faster, much clearer than before. It was unmistakably a man’s voice.

Clang!

The mirror slipped from her hands and crashed onto the table with a loud crash.

“Xiao Yao! You’re still awake? It’s already 10:30! Don’t you have classes tomorrow?” Her mother knocked on the door. He Yiyao hurriedly tucked the antique mirror between a book and then switched off the light.

However, as she lay in bed, she tossed and turned with her mind never stop racing. 

Was that actually the spirit of someone from a thousand years ago? 

Could the great General Huo Qubing be trapped inside an antique mirror?

She soon realized that no matter how she handled the bronze mirror during the day, it never reacted. It was only at 10 o’clock at night that the mirror would come to life.

“You’re Huo Qubing, right? The famous general from the Han Dynasty?”

“General? I am presently a commandery captain, though I shall soon rise to the rank of general!”

“The book says you’re a general though,” He Yiyao said, flipping through the Han Dynasty history book she borrowed from the library. 

Could it be a ghost with the same name?

“Ha! I know not of the book thou speakest. And what of thee? How didst thou meet thy end? Why dost thou reside within the bronze mirror my aunt gave me?”

The words from the mirror startled He Yiyao.

Was she dead? When did she die?

She quickly pinched her cheek hard. 

Ouch! That hurt!

“I’m very much alive! I’m still in school! I’m still studying!”

“Really? And what dost thou claim I am dead? I am still alive! I still ride horses! I still shoot arrows!”

He Yiyao was stunned. She was not dead, and neither was he. So… could it be that this mirror connected two worlds across time and space?

“Hey! Since thee claim not to be a ghost, show thyself! Hide not behind that deathly appearance, lest thou fear being seen!”

He Yiyao had long forgotten the antique shop owner’s warning not to wipe the mirror’s surface. With a sense of curiosity, she began to gently clean the mirror.

With each stroke, the mirror became slightly brighter. Just as her hand grew tired, she heard the mocking voice from the mirror, “Oh! With disheveled hair, and yet thou claimest not to be a ghost?”

Clang!

He Yiyao slammed the antique mirror into a book, ignoring the voice that kept calling out from within. She went to bed and tried to sleep.

She left it there for three whole days. Between the extra classes and the homework assigned by her school teachers, she had no time to think about anything else.

It was not until she casually flipped through some reference books that she noticed the bronze mirror had slipped in between the pages. It had been a while since she heard his archaic “I” and “thou” for several days, and strangely enough, she missed it.

He Yiyao placed the bronze mirror against her reference book and was about to start her homework. Seeing her long hair falling down, she remembered what Huo Qubing had mentioned before. With a shrug, she decided to tie her hair into a neat ponytail before getting back to her studies.

As 10 o’clock approached, the mocking voice from the mirror echoed, “It hath been a long while! A month, perchance? Hmm? Thou hast tied thy hair? Is it not said that ghosts cannot touch their own hair?”

The mechanical pencil on He Yiyao’s hand snapped with a loud noise. 

“You’re the ghost! Wait, no, what do you mean a month? It’s only been three days here!” She looked into the antique mirror and noticed that the reflection was clearer than before. She could vaguely see a flickering candle and the silhouette of a man on the other side.

“Hey, woman, thou… you try to wipe the mirror again. After you wiped it last time, I could see a bit more clearly.” Huo Qubing attempted to mimic He Yiyao’s modern speech. Although it felt a bit awkward, he found it oddly fascinating.

He Yiyao glanced at her completed homework, then decided to grab the cloth on the desk and start wiping the mirror. “You said you haven’t seen me for a month? What’s happened? When could you see me before?”

“At first, it was the 1st day of June. Then the next time was the 11th of June, and today is the 11th of July. I remember it clearly. On the 1st of June, I was hunting in Shanglin Garden, got thoroughly drunk, and when I returned, I found you in the mirror.”

He Yiyao frowned. “Huh? Could it be that our timelines aren’t in sync? Maybe this mirror is like a camera, connecting two different time periods! But the network connection is probably super laggy. Why’s there no lag when we talk though?”

“Woman, please speak in words I can understand! What is a ‘camera’? What is a ‘network connection’?” Huo Qubing listened intently but realized he had no idea what she was talking about.

“A camera is a lens connected to a computer… Never mind, forget I said anything.” He Yiyao rolled her eyes, realizing how absurd it was to explain a camera to a historical person who only understood Tong Tian Mirror—a mythical mirror in Chinese legends that could see across different realms.

“Hey! You should wipe it too! Don’t leave all the work to me.”

“Wipe it? The mirror I have is new and already quite clear! What’s there to clean?” Huo Qubing tapped the bronze mirror, “Woman, does it hurt when I flick the mirror? They say that if you damage an object, the ghost residing inside will feel pain!”

“Like hell it hurts!” He Yiyao grumbled, scrubbing the mirror as if it were Huo Qubing’s face. I’ll rub harder! “I’m not a ghost!”

“I know, that’s why I call you ‘woman’!” he replied in a dismissive tone.

He Yiyao gritted her teeth in frustration, scrubbing the mirror with vengeance. After a while, that irritating voice came through again.

“I can see you now! What nonsense! Those old men lied! A ghost shouldn’t possess beauty; it ought to be frightful instead.”

Smack!

He Yiyao flipped the mirror face down on the table and struck it a few times with a book in frustration.

She looked frightful? 

He Yiyao could hardly believe it. She turned to the mirror on her vanity, where a delicate and adorable face reflected back at her.

That guy must have vision problems! And he dared to talk about horse riding and archery? It would be a miracle if he did not end up shooting his own people!

The mirror continued to emit calls of “Woman! Woman!”

He Yiyao traced the patterns on the back of the bronze mirror, recalling the fleeting image of a handsome face she had glimpsed before flipping the mirror.

Why was she blushing? Who cared about that guy anyway? 

Lights off! Sleep!

“Hey! Woman, are you there?” At exactly 10 o’clock, the voice from the bronze mirror came through again. This time, however, it lacked its usual flippancy; it sounded rather solemn.

He Yiyao hesitated for only two seconds before turning the mirror back over. She had to admit, having an online friend from over two thousand years ago was pretty cool, especially when it was the famous General Huo.

The mottled surface of the mirror had fewer scratches now, revealing a handsome and spirited face. Though still somewhat blurred, those piercing eyes, sharp and deep as they shone in the dim light, held her gaze captive, making it impossible for her to look away.

But where was he looking?

He Yiyao glanced down at her camisole nightdress and cursed the little pervert under her breath. She quickly grabbed a jacket to cover herself. This kind of attire was probably too stimulating for a historical man. 

But—man? 

He Yiyao poked Huo Qubing’s face on the mirror and curiously asked, “How old are you?”

“This young master, right here, is 16 years old this year. What of it? They forbid me from taking up arms!” Huo Qubing took a swig from his wine vessel. “I am more than ready to fight on the battlefield! Don’t tell me you also deem me too young!”

16 years old? 16?

No wonder this online friend had such youthful features—he was still a teenager. He Yiyao raised an eyebrow and said, “Be good. Call me ‘big sister.'”

“I shall not! Woman, can you speak with me every day? I have to wait ten days each time! Can’t you appear at will?” Huo Qubing hiccuped, making a shameless request.

“I do talk with you every day!” He Yiyao pouted. 

Appear at will?

Did Young Master Huo think she was a Hogwarts graduate who had mastered Apparition?

“It would seem that a day in the heavens is ten upon the earth!” Young Master Huo sighed wistfully.

“Did you just say I’m some sort of a goddess? How charming!” He Yiyao said, playfully cupping her face with exaggerated sweetness as she deliberately misinterpreted the Young Master’s words.

For once, Young Master Huo did not bicker with her. He was somewhat intoxicated, muttering incoherently, “Woman, do you… wish to see… the sights beyond the frontier? Stay… stay by my side, don’t leave… I will take you… take you there.” By the end of his rambling, he had already fallen asleep on the table.

He Yiyao quietly watched the young general in the mirror, his once grand ambitions now clouded by drunkenness and defeat. Her chest tightened with an unfamiliar ache. She remembered that according to history, Huo Qubing had tragically died young at the age of 24…

Should she tell him? But if she did, he might dismiss it as a joke…

“Woman,” Huo Qubing’s voice echoed through the mirror. “I, Huo Qubing, was born a slave, raised amidst luxury, yet never indulged in opulence. A true man should die on the battlefield, defending his homeland!”

“Woman, do you know that the Xiongnu often harass our borders? Yet our emperor seeks peace through marriage alliances and dowries!”

“Woman, if I were to go to the battlefield, I would surely defeat enemies on all sides!”

“Woman… Hey! Are you listening to me?”

“I am, I am!” He Yiyao replied, digging at her ear and continuing to work on her revision notes.

This routine had been going on for several weeks. Every night at 10 o’clock, she would see her online friend from two thousand years ago through the bronze mirror for about half an hour before being forcibly logged off. As for Huo Qubing, he could only meet with her every ten days, it seemed like almost a year had passed.

“Who are you fooling? You can’t even be bothered to look at my face. Is that stuff you’re writing really that interesting? Is it more interesting than I am?”

This was her final assignment that was due tomorrow. Her extra classes would come to a close the next day, and the new school term was about to begin. 

However, He Yiyao blinked, looking at the desk calendar. She suddenly realized that she had to return the bronze mirror to the antique shop tomorrow.

Although Huo Qubing’s constant rambling was somewhat annoying, she had grown accustomed to hearing him vent every night. She felt an urge to glance at the bronze mirror beside her, its mottled surface reflecting his youthful but undeniably commanding features.

“You…” He Yiyao wanted to bid him a proper farewell, but the words stuck in her throat. This bronze mirror was undoubtedly genuine. Even if she wanted to buy it, it would be impossible for her to afford it.

Moreover, she really could not bring herself to continue talking with him like this anymore. During the entire month, she had refrained from telling him anything to avoid altering the course of history. She had only played the role of a listener, and now he probably still thought she was just a mere ghost living inside the mirror.

“Woman, you know, I rarely talk to people. But with you, I always have so much to say. Perhaps it’s because we don’t really know each other…”

He Yi Yao was utterly stunned, unsure of how to respond.

She had listened to his complaints these days. The Empress Wei was his aunt, and his uncle was General Wei Qing of the Han Dynasty. Huo Qubing insisted on wanting to fight on the battlefield rather than live a peaceful life in Chang’an.

She had always felt that it was a world completely separated from hers. However, with each bit of his daily words, she felt as if she were right there beside him. Through the still-blurry mirror, she saw him riding swiftly across the hunting grounds…

“Woman, do you remember I promised to show you the desert grasslands? In 10 days from now, I will take you there!” Huo Qubing said with great enthusiasm. He raised his brows so high they looked like two small knives cutting into the clouds, sharp and distinctive. “I have volunteered, and the emperor has appointed me as the cavalry commander to lead the troops out! Ten days from now, wait for me!”

The mirror had already restored its clarity, but Huo Qubing’s enthusiastic voice still echoed in her ears.

He Yiyao felt her heart soften. Resting her chin in her hand, she stared at the antique mirror. She remained silent; she was just a listener. 

That should be enough, right?

Tomorrow, she would visit the antique shop and ask the owner if she could continue renting the mirror. She could even empty out her piggy bank and pay for a year’s worth upfront.

It should work, right?

From then on, He Yiyao’s nights became incredibly fascinating. Through the antique mirror, she saw the enticingly clear moonlight of the frontier, the blood and gore of the battlefield, and the vast desert…

She flipped through the history records, while also glancing at the antique mirror.

From the lines of the history books, she saw the tumultuous battlefield unfolding in the mirror.

She said nothing, only accompanied him, encouraged him, and comforted him through the long days.

One of her days equaled ten of his.

In the 6th year of the Yuan Shuo era, he led 800 cavalrymen, galloping hundreds of miles across the vast desert in search of the enemy. His strategy of long-distance raids brought immediate success—he defeated over 2,000 enemy troops, killing one and capturing another of the another of the Xiongnu nobles closely related to the Chanyu.

He led his troops back unscathed. Emperor Wu of Han immediately conferred upon him the title “Champion Marquis,” praising him for his unparalleled bravery.

Through the mirror, she watched him ride tirelessly for hundreds of miles, dust rising under the hooves of his horse, and the blood streaming down his chest, enough to cover the entire long night in the mirror’s reflection.

He said this was his first time on the battlefield, and he had achieved an impressive feat.

She said nothing, silently staring at the bloodstains on the mirror, as this was the first time he had suffered such a heavy injury.

In the spring of the 2nd year of the Yuan Shou era, he was appointed as the General of the Cavalry, leading a force of 10,000 elite troops on an expedition against the Xiongnu. 

At just 19 years old, he launched a lightning-fast raid across the vast desert, moving through five Xiongnu tribes within six days. His relentless advance culminated in a life-and-death battle at Gao Lan Mountain. He achieved a bitter victory in this battle, slaying nearly 10,000 enemies, but only 3,000 of his 10,000 elite soldiers remained.

She watched through the antique mirror, not seeing the bloody scenes of battle. When they met again, it was already a victorious scene.

He said that to prevent her from witnessing the bloodshed, he deliberately chose the intervals between their conversations to coincide with the calm after the battle.

She said nothing. This time, there was no blood on the mirror’s surface. However, she noticed a deep cut on the back of the mirror.

She could see the cut on the antique mirror. But she could not see how many injuries he had sustained.

In the same summer, Emperor Wu of Han decided to initiate the battle to reclaim the Hexi Corridor. In this battle, he became the commander of the Han army, once again venturing deep into enemy territory and securing another great victory. 

At Qilian Mountain, his troops killed over thirty thousand enemies. The Han dynasty reclaimed the Hexi Corridor. From then on, the might of the Han army grew, and at the age of 19, he became a war god feared by the Xiongnu tribes.

She watched through the antique mirror, looking at the Hexi lands beneath his feet, seeing him full of vigor, observing thousands of soldiers gazing up at him.

He said that he wished for her to stand by his side and experience everything with him.

She said nothing because she knew that was impossible.

In the autumn of the same year, King Hunxie and King Xiushe sought to surrender to the Han Dynasty, and he was sent to the Yellow River to accept their surrender. As he and his troops crossed the Yellow River, a rebellion broke out within the surrendered Xiongnu troops.

Remarkably, he charged into the Xiongnu camp with only a handful of personal guards, directly confronting King Hunxie and ordering the execution of the mutinous soldiers. 

King Hunxie had every opportunity to take him hostage or kill him in revenge, but ultimately, he chose not to. His fearless bravery not only cowed King Hunxie but also intimidated over 40,000 Xiongnu soldiers. The surrender at Hexi was successfully concluded.

She silently watched through the ancient mirror as he stood in the enemy’s camp that night, with flickering candlelight and an atmosphere thick with danger. With just a look and a gesture, he managed to control the 40,000 soldiers outside, along with the 8,000 rebellious ones. The world was astounded, hailing him as an invincible war god.

He said he had indeed taken a risk this time, but with her by his side, she was his guardian goddess.

She said nothing, only quietly releasing the corner of her clothes, which she had been nervously clutching.

In the 3rd year of the Yuan Shou era, Emperor Wu of Han had a splendid mansion built for him and instructed him to inspect it.

Through the antique mirror, she saw the young emperor’s esteem for him and the smiling princess beside him. She knew that Emperor Wu not only bestowed a mansion upon him but also intended to arrange a marriage between him and the princess.

He said that as long as the Xiongnu were not annihilated, there can be no home for him.

She said nothing, watching him as her hand rested on the mirror, her palm lines sharp against the cold surface.

For the first time, she extended her own hand, adjusting it against his. 

Their hands were separated by a cold mirror but by two thousand years of time, there was something intangible flowing between them.

In the 4th year of the Yuan Shou era, to completely annihilate the Xiongnu’s main forces, Emperor Wu of Han launched the unprecedented Battle of the Northern Desert. He led his troops deep into the northern desert, covering over 2,000 miles and annihilating over 70,000 enemies. 

To pursue the Xiongnu Chieftain, he continued all the way to Mount Langjuxu, where he led a grand ceremony to offer sacrifices to heaven and earth. After the ceremony, he continued to advance, reaching the area around Lake Baikal in Russia, achieving successive victories.

As a result of this battle, the Xiongnu retreated into the distance, leaving the lands south of the desert without a royal court—a region now known as southern Mongolia.

His act of performing the Victory Sacrifice at Langjuxu became the highest aspiration and lifelong pursuit of Chinese military strategists throughout history. That year, he was only 22 years old.

Through the antique mirror, she witnessed the highest ceremonial ritual of a warrior, watching him standing at the pinnacle of his life, basking in his supreme glory.

For six years of his battles, she had always been guarding by his side.

He asked, “Woman, are you truly a ghost? After all these years, your appearance remains unchanged.”

The mirror bore countless scars from blades, yet its surface grew ever clearer.

She could even see her own reflection in his eyes.

He said his dream of defeating the Xiongnu had been fulfilled. His dream of becoming a general had come true. He had fulfilled almost all his childhood dreams and could nearly have everything he wanted.

He said he wanted her.

She said nothing, silently shaking her head. Then, she placed the mirror in a sealed box and locked it away in the deepest part of the cabinet.

She told herself that was where it had to end.

She had stayed by his side for more than seven months, watching him struggle and ultimately reached the prime of his life. That was all it should have been.

They were from different worlds. She would rather he believed she was a ghost, forever stripped of her powers, having dissipated into nothingness, never to be seen again.

She needed to forget him.

She buried herself in her studies, focusing all her attention on her books. She refused to give herself any spare moments to think about him.

However, her heart would ache every night at 10 o’clock. It became a habit to glance at the spot where the antique mirror used to be, only to force herself to look away.

What was he doing?

What was he thinking?

Who was he with?

She gritted her teeth, knowing that he was no longer a part of her life.

How could she bear to watch him slowly deteriorate, weaken, and eventually die?

She had grown exhausted from only watching him through the mirror; unable to do anything, unable to touch him.

She admitted to her own cowardice, that was why she rather chose to escape.

Life continued as it always had—attending school, extra classes, and completing homework. Yet each morning when she woke up, her face was streaked with tears.

Finally, the National Higher Education Entrance Examination ended. She performed well and told her parents she was likely able to attend the university she had dreamed of since childhood. They were overjoyed. 

But once the door shut behind her, a profound sadness settled over her.

With the exams over, she finally had time to herself. Without the excuse to keep studying, she could no longer suppress her longing for him.

Unable to resist, she eventually took out the box locked away in her cabinet, and gently stroked the antique mirror she had not seen in so long.

This time, she was determined to tell him.

Although they could never be together, she needed him to know.

She liked him.

The room felt hollow and lonely as she sat in quiet anticipation, waiting for 10 o’clock to strike.

She never got to hear his voice, only the clear sound of something breaking—the antique mirror in her hand had suddenly created a fracture without warning.

Then, she saw a silk cloth draped over the other side of the mirror.

There were several powerful bold characters written on it.

“Ah-Yao, we must meet again in the next life.”

She broke down in overwhelming sorrow.

“Sir,” He Yiyao opened the box as she stood at the counter. The antique mirror now had a crack on its surface. It was the first day of her university semester, marking exactly one year since she had rented the mirror. “How much is this mirror? I’ll buy it.”

The young antique shop owner looked at the cracked mirror without much surprise on his face. “There’s no need. Your rental fees have covered its price.”

“Really?” He Yiyao could not believe it. To her, the mirror was priceless. Even if the owner had given an astronomical figure, she would find a way to pay it off.

The owner closed the box and pushed it back to her with a smile. “It’s yours now.”

He Yiyao lowered her gaze and carefully picked up the box.

This was her most treasured possession.

“By the way, there’s something else that came with this mirror. Let me find it.” The shop owner said as he walked into the back room. After some rummaging, he eventually walked out with a piece of yellowed, tattered silk cloth.

He Yiyao’s heart dropped as she tremblingly received the silk cloth.

With a slight quiver, she unfolded the fabric, revealing the powerful bold characters written on it—Ah-Yao, we must meet again in the next life.

Holding the box with the antique mirror and clutching the silk cloth, she somehow made her way out of the antique shop. The next thing she knew, she was already being taken to her university campus by her parents.

The freshman orientation was a cacophony of voices, but she felt as though she were standing in a different space, in a different time.

In her daze, someone bumped into her, causing her to fall to the ground. She clung desperately to the antique mirror, but the silk cloth fluttered away.

A hand reached out to pick the silk cloth for her—a hand with distinct, well-defined knuckles.

Her heart suddenly tightened, and she felt too weak to summon the strength to stand.

She lifted her head and saw a familiar face. This time, there was no antique mirror separating them, no vast expanse of two thousand years, no war horses neighing, no clash of weapons, no billowing dust… His face was finally clear and real.

The difference was that he was not wearing his ever-present armor, only a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans.

Tears silently rolled down her cheeks.

He walked up to her, unfolding the silk cloth. It seemed as if he was reading the words on it by chance, yet he spoke them with force as if he already knew what they said.

“Ah-Yao, we must meet again in the next life.”

Every item here has its own story, one that has been carried through the years but remains unheard.

Yet, they were all still waiting…