Duan Ling stepped in front of Lin Ting and spoke plainly, “She’s not dead. This is not resurrection. The strange illness made her appear dead. We didn’t know and almost buried her.”
Lin Ting had wanted to tell them this herself, but he spoke first.
Many gaped in disbelief.
They glanced at Lin Ting skeptically, “She only looks dead?”
Could such a thing exist?
Duan Ling took Lin Ting’s hand, now back to normal temperature, “More than one doctor said her pulse was abnormal. The death pulse could dominate, taking her life, but it could also suddenly vanish.”
He scanned the crowd, noticing their expressions, “We could invite those doctors here to see if what I say is true, if such a pulse can cause a state of apparent death.”
Madam Feng withdrew her gaze from the dagger without drawing attention.
Her mind was in turmoil as she clutched the Fengzhu on her wrist, decisively saying, “Let’s return to the Manor first, then summon those doctors to examine Leyun.”
***
Back at the Duan Family Manor, Lin Ting sat in the main hall still draped with the Spirit Hall’s decorations, letting doctor after doctor take her pulse.
As before, others waited outside the hall for results.
The doctors ultimately confirmed Duan Ling’s words.
Lin Ting had indeed appeared dead due to the strange illness, but now was fully recovered.
Even more happily, her death pulse had completely disappeared.
Everything was settled.
Lin Ting felt at ease, finally free to live as she wished, no longer fearing being erased by a system or forced to complete all sorts of tasks.
She tilted her head to Duan Ling.
Taking advantage of everyone’s attention on the speaking doctor, she tugged at his sleeve.
Duan Ling naturally held her hand.
Their joined hands were hidden beneath her sleeve.
He did not look down but fixed his gaze on her lively eyes, repeatedly confirming she was alive.
Elsewhere, Madam Feng nearly cried with joy after hearing the doctors’ verdict, generously rewarding them with gold for their service.
She immediately ordered the removal of all funeral items and dismissed those who had come to mourn.
More than that, she planned to scatter silver coins at the front gate for several days, spreading wealth to ward off disaster.
Lin Ting stayed with Li Jingqiu and the others for a long while before reluctantly returning to her room.
Madam Feng prepared pomelo leaf water for her to take a thorough bath, symbolizing the dispelling of illness and misfortune.
Duan Ling followed her closely, never leaving her side.
After bathing, Lin Ting collapsed onto the bed, holding Duan Ling.
She knew he had barely slept, resting at most an hour a day.
“I’m tired. Stay with me for a while.”
He did not close his eyes.
Lin Ting saw this, reached out, and covered his eyes with her hand, “Close your eyes. Sleep.”
Duan Ling’s long lashes fluttered beneath her palm.
Lin Ting’s fingers itched, but her chest felt heavy.
“I told you to close your eyes, didn’t you hear?”
The bed was surrounded by the scent of pomelo leaves.
Their fragrance drifted into Duan Ling’s nose.
He pulled down Lin Ting’s hand and obeyed, closing his eyes as she wished, “If this is a dream, then don’t let me wake.”
Lin Ting sniffed and bumped her head against his chest, “Why are you becoming like my mother and Ling Yun? Always talking about dreams.”
Duan Ling wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Because I’m afraid. Afraid it’s all a lie, afraid that when I wake up, you’ll still be lying in the coffin, and no matter what I say, you won’t respond.”
Lin Ting fell silent.
Soon, Duan Ling fell asleep.
She observed him closely from nearby, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes had deepened considerably.
In truth, Lin Ting wasn’t sleepy.
She had just found an excuse to let Duan Ling rest.
Now that he was asleep, she no longer needed to pretend.
So, she did nothing but lie beside him until night fell, then went out for dinner with Li Jingqiu and Madam Feng.
***
That night, Madam Feng arranged a reunion dinner to celebrate Lin Ting’s recovery.
However, before the meal, news came from the palace that Emperor Jiade wished to see Duan Father.
He had to go to the palace reluctantly.
The reunion dinner was missing Duan Father, but Madam Feng saw no problem with this.
Without waiting for his return, everyone ate and drank as usual.
After dinner, Lin Ting escorted Li Jingqiu back to the Yuanfan, then took Duan Ling to find Jin Anazi.
After her death, Lin Ting had visited Madam Feng’s Yuanfan and heard Duan Father mention the Medicine Man.
She knew Medicine Men were immune to all poisons but had short lives.
Emperor Jiade knew how to restore Medicine Men to normal humans but would not easily share this knowledge.
Lin Ting did not pin her hopes on the Emperor and decided to ask Jin Anazi instead.
Jin Anazi was well-traveled and knowledgeable, likely familiar with Medicine Men, as many strange things came from the Jianghu into the palace.
Though she wanted to ask Jin Anazi this immediately upon awakening, no chance had arisen until now.
Lin Ting hurried toward the Study.
She had lain in bed for seven days, her bones softened, and wanted to walk more—refusing to take a carriage.
Duan Ling, with his long legs, easily kept up, gripping her wrist in his palm.
“Why do you want to take me to see Young Master Jin?”
Lin Ting quickened her pace, explaining as they walked, “I don’t want you to have a short life. I want to ask Jin Anazi if he’s heard about Medicine Men, to find a way to restore you to normal.”
“How did you know?”
Lin Ting did not look back, “Why do you care how I know?”
She only knew becoming a Medicine Man involved great suffering beforehand but didn’t know what happened afterward; otherwise, she would have acted sooner.
Just as they arrived at the Study, Jin Anazi came out, pushing the door open.
He had been busy the past few days, sneaking outside the city to deliver messages to Ta Xuening about the rebels.
He only stayed at the Duan Family Manor because of the funeral arrangements.
Now Jin Anazi was free and planned to visit Ta Xuening to check on the latest news.
Seeing them arrive, he was slightly surprised.
Lin Ting had just awakened; shouldn’t she be resting at the Manor?
Jin Anazi asked in confusion, “You…?”
Lin Ting cut straight to the point without waiting for his question, “Have you heard of Medicine Men?”
Ta Xuening had never mentioned Duan Ling’s condition to Jin Anazi, so he only vaguely knew, “I’ve heard a little. Rumors say that blood from Medicine Men can make the Elixir of Immortality.”
She urgently asked, “Do you know how to restore Medicine Men to normal humans?”
Jin Anazi hadn’t paid much attention to this matter, “I know a Jianghu person who might know about Medicine Men. I’ll ask him for you, but even if he knows, he might not have a solution.”
Lin Ting understood, “Thank you.”
Her gratitude was twofold—for Jin Anazi’s willingness to inquire and for all he had done since her death, even agreeing to the absurd act of grave digging.
She feared awakening too late, so she had left a contingency.
Lin Ting had thought about asking Duan Ling to dig her up, but he didn’t know she could come back to life.
In Great Yan, grave digging was a kind of desecration.
She feared Duan Ling would agree but be unable to carry it out.
Matters of life and death were not to be gambled with.
So she entrusted Jin Anazi without telling Duan Ling, afraid he would object.
The wind chime swaying in the Study brought Lin Ting back from her drifting thoughts.
She looked at Jin Anazi, who held the chain used to lock the Study door.
“Are you going out?”
Jin Anazi knew they came to find him and would not enter the Study, so he locked the door and said, “Going to see Lord Ying.”
He shifted his tone, “Within a month, the Shijian Marquis will lead troops to attack Jingcheng. If you want to stay away from this place of trouble, leave now. If you don’t leave, it’s best not to go far—you might not be able to return for a while.”
Lin Ting hesitated, then asked, “Are you really going to let Xie Wu Gongzi become emperor?”
Jin Anazi replied, “Who they want as emperor doesn’t matter to me. But after dealing with the Shijian Marquis a few times, I see he’s ambitious—not someone who would bow to others easily. Who ends up on the throne is still uncertain.”
The Shijian Marquis?
So Xia Zimo’s father wanted to be emperor.
Lin Ting pondered briefly.
“Go ahead. We won’t hold you up.”
Jin Anazi donned his mask and said, “If I hear anything about Medicine Men, I’ll come to find you.”
“Good.”
Lin Ting retraced her steps back to the Duan Mansion.
***
The Duan Mansion was silent in the dead of night.
Moonlight spilled through the open window, falling on the bed.
Duan Ling, who had just fallen asleep, suddenly opened his eyes and instinctively looked beside him.
Lin Ting was not there.
He threw back the covers and called her name but received no answer.
Was her coming back to life just a dream?
A shadow flickered in Duan Ling’s eyes as his hands gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his fingertips digging into the wood until they bled.
He got out of bed, still wanting to run out and search.
Before he could reach the door, Lin Ting pushed it open, holding a lantern.
The faint candlelight suddenly pierced the darkness.
The scene looked like a midnight dream—beautiful but unreal.
A cold wind slipped through the door crack, brushing her skirt and Duan Ling’s bare feet on the wooden floor.
He had risen so hastily he forgot to put on his shoes.
Duan Ling’s eyes locked onto Lin Ting’s, greedy yet repressed with a sickly intensity.
Lin Ting guessed what had happened and was about to put down the lantern and walk toward him when he strode forward and hugged her tightly, like a rope soaked in poison winding around her, never letting go, yet not harming her—just wanting to keep her close.
Two bodies pressed tightly together through thin inner garments.
Their heartbeats gradually synchronized, and the sickness in Duan Ling’s eyes faded.
Lin Ting was truly not dead.
She was still by his side.
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