Zhang Xianyu isn’t the type to get hung up on things.
This feeling was just too vague and elusive, so he simply tossed it aside and didn’t think about it anymore.
But Xie Dingxin’s words had stirred up a doubt that had long been buried in the depths of his heart.
He felt that maybe he really was a bit different from other people.
But exactly where he was different, or why, he couldn’t quite say.
He had been picked up and raised by Zhang Jianguo since he was little.
Zhang Jianguo always said he had a strong fate—his heartless parents had left him naked in a field, yet he hadn’t frozen or starved to death, and he cried louder and ate more than other kids…
Other than being lucky and having a good appetite, he didn’t seem much different from an ordinary child.
Actually, before today, he never felt there was anything special about himself.
Except for accidentally discovering the notes left behind by his Master and learning some techniques from them, the rest of the time he just followed Zhang Jianguo step by step, learning how to perform rituals, then went to school when he was old enough, and eventually moved to Jiangcheng for better job prospects.
With a faint sigh, Zhang Xianyu pushed down his doubts, tidying up the emotions that had slipped onto his face.
“Let’s talk about it when we get back.”
Xie Dingxin watched his expression, and seeing that he was still fairly calm, figured he’d gotten the message and didn’t bring it up again.
He’d said all that needed to be said—just to give Zhang Xianyu a heads up, because as long as he stayed here, the people from the Daoist Association would find out sooner or later.
Car.
Since he hadn’t done anything truly wicked, what was the point of hiding?
The two of them went down the mountain.
Jiuhuan Mountain was so remote, they couldn’t even get a taxi.
They waited at the bus station for half an hour before a slow-moving bus finally arrived.
After heading home to change into clean clothes, Zhang Xianyu hurried off to the hospital—he needed to check on Sun Han and Zhou Qian.
Xie Dingxin went along too—his ear had bled back in the mountains.
Although his hearing wasn’t affected, he wanted to get it checked for peace of mind.
“I’m coming too.”
Back in his body, Lin Wushui looked lazy and content, as if he’d just eaten his fill.
Seeing the two about to leave him behind for the hospital, he slowly reached out and tugged at Zhang Xianyu’s sleeve.
Zhang Xianyu paused, glancing back to see Lin Wushui’s half-lidded, drowsy eyes, looking nothing like usual.
He pressed his lips together and brought him along to the hospital.
Sure enough, Sun Han had woken up. Sun Zheli and Zhao Youxiang were by his side, nervously watching as the doctor examined him.
Although he’d survived three suicide attempts, the toll on his body was significant.
Sun Han was so thin he’d lost his shape, and even though he was awake, his expression was still dazed and unhealthy.
But the fact that he woke up at all was already a miracle.
Sun Zheli and his wife were overjoyed, hovering around their son’s hospital bed until Zhang Xianyu gave a light cough, finally drawing their attention.
The couple was surprised to see them, then, recalling how their son had suddenly regained consciousness, hesitantly asked, “Daoists, is it…is it all resolved?”
Zhang Xianyu nodded.
“It’s all resolved. There won’t be any more problems.”
The black energy around Sun Han had dissipated, with only the Jade Pendant on his chest still faintly glowing.
He turned to look at the window, catching a glimpse of a red shadow flashing by.
Thinking of Zhou Qian, Zhang Xianyu stepped forward and tentatively asked, “Can I borrow the Jade Pendant on your neck for a moment?”
Sun Han, still dazed, lifted his head.
His muddled eyes cleared a bit, and he clutched the Jade Pendant tightly, slowly but firmly shaking his head.
Seeing this, Zhao Youxiang wanted to persuade him, but Sun Zheli stopped her, shaking his head.
Zhang Xianyu wasn’t surprised.
Seeing Sun Han’s reaction, he thought for a moment and decided to be straightforward: “Zhou Qian has been dead for more than a year. Whatever was haunting you is gone. She can’t stay with you anymore.”
A flicker crossed Sun Han’s eyes, his thin fingers clutching the Jade Pendant even tighter.
“You still have a long road ahead, and she needs to reincarnate soon. Clinging like this isn’t good for either of you.”
Zhang Xianyu sighed.
“I’ll let you see her one last time. Say goodbye properly.”
At last, Sun Han spoke for the first time since waking up.
“Really?”
“Mm.”
Zhang Xianyu nodded, then looked at Sun Zheli and his wife.
“Can you let them say their goodbyes?”
Sun Zheli looked at his son, let out a heavy sigh, and led his wife out of the ward.
Zhang Xianyu pulled the curtains shut and closed the door, then took out a Mingmu Talisman he’d prepared earlier and gently rubbed it over Sun Han’s eyes.
Sun Han blinked slowly, his gaze searching the room.
“Qianqian?”
“Come out and see him one last time. You have to move on eventually,” Zhang Xianyu bent down and said to the Jade Pendant clutched tightly in Sun Han’s hand.
The faint glow of the Jade Pendant seemed to brighten.
A girl in a red dress with long black hair appeared at the bedside.
One was lying down, the other standing.
They looked at each other in silence.
Zhang Xianyu retreated to the door, giving them space to talk.
After a long time, Sun Han, eyes reddened, finally said, “I’m sorry.”
He’d always felt that if he hadn’t joined that stupid club, Zhou Qian wouldn’t have been tricked into going to Jiuhuan Mountain, and wouldn’t have lost her life.
Zhou Qian shook her head gently, her long black hair falling behind her.
Her red dress was spotless, and except for her pale face, she no longer looked frightening.
She’d always been introverted, and when she was with Sun Han, it was usually him who coaxed her into talking.
Now, separated by life and death, she didn’t know what to say.
In the end, she just lightly touched Sun Han’s fingers resting on the blanket and said softly, “You…live well from now on. I’m leaving.”
“Qianqian!”
Sun Han anxiously tried to sit up and grab her, but his outstretched fingers only grasped empty air.
Zhou Qian took a step back, gave him a shy smile, and softly said, “Goodbye.”
Her low voice still lingered in the ward, but her figure had already disappeared.
Sun Han stared blankly, his hand unconsciously reaching for the Jade Pendant at his neck.
The pendant, usually cold, now felt warm from his body heat, seeming no different from any ordinary Jade Pendant.
Zhou Qian was gone.
Was she?
Sun Han was slow to process it, rubbing the Jade Pendant for a long time, his unfocused eyes turning to Zhang Xianyu.
“She…went to reincarnate?”
“Mm.”
“Will she be reborn into a good family?”
He remembered that Zhou Qian’s family hadn’t been a happy one.
“Mm.”
Sun Han seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, finally showing a faint smile as he looked at the Jade Pendant in his palm and said hoarsely, “I hope she’ll be happier in her next life.”
While Zhang Xianyu was in the ward, Xie Dingxin went to get his ear checked.
Fortunately, there was no major issue—the doctor prescribed some anti-inflammatory medicine and told him to apply it on schedule.
Sun Han’s condition stabilized as well.
Although still weak and not fully recovered, his spirits had lifted, and it was only a matter of time before he’d be well again.
Sun Zheli and his wife thanked them profusely as they left.
Before leaving, Zhang Xianyu remembered what Sun Han had said and told Zhao Youxiang, “Sun Han was lucky to survive, all thanks to Zhou Qian protecting him. If you can, burn some paper money for her during festivals.”
Zhou Qian’s family didn’t care about her, and after her death, likely no one would pay respects.
If the Sun family was willing, she would find peace in the afterlife.
Sun Zheli and his wife agreed repeatedly, then asked for Zhang Xianyu’s bank card number and transferred him a hundred thousand yuan as a thank-you fee.
Zhang Xianyu didn’t refuse.
He sent fifty thousand to Xie Dingxin, then transferred twenty thousand to the Student Aid Account.
Later, he’d use Zhang Jianguo’s name to sponsor needy students.
The rest he left in his own account, planning to save up a bit more before returning to Tuanjie Village to renovate the small Daoist temple.
After that, he’d register on the APP and set up a proper Daoist temple.
With three days left of the Guo Qing Holiday, Zhang Xianyu didn’t have much to do, so he stayed home reading.
Lin Wushui’s leg was still in a cast, so he could only get around by wheelchair.
In the mornings, Zhang Xianyu would wheel him downstairs for breakfast, stroll around a bit, then pick up groceries on the way back.
For lunch, he’d make two dishes and a soup.
After eating, they’d each do their own thing, or nap if they felt sleepy.
In the evenings, they’d have dinner and then go downstairs for a walk to help digestion.
The three days passed peacefully.
Lin Wushui seemed a bit lethargic and lazy during this time, and Zhang Xianyu wondered if he was sick or in a bad mood.
But Lin Wushui just rubbed his stomach and said he’d overeaten and was having trouble digesting.
Remembering the fake Buddha he’d swallowed, Zhang Xianyu fell silent and didn’t ask any more questions.
After the Guo Qing Holiday, classes officially resumed.
Luo Danqing and Zheng Pang were so excited to see Zhang Xianyu that if he hadn’t stopped them, they probably would’ve hung up a banner reading “Warmly Welcome Classmate Zhang Xianyu Back to School.”
After a big class in the morning, the two dragged him to the cafeteria for lunch and asked about what happened in the air-raid shelter.
Since Zhang Xianyu had been in the hospital and missed military training, and then it was the Guo Qing Holiday, they’d only managed to visit him once and still had a lot of unanswered questions.
Zhang Xianyu gave them a brief rundown—he didn’t really hide anything, since Zheng Pang had seen it himself and there was no point pretending otherwise.
But his straightforwardness only left Zheng Pang more confused.
While shoving meat into his mouth, he mumbled, “That night felt like a dream to me.”
“Just treat it like a dream. Nothing wrong with that,” said Zhang Xianyu.
Zheng Pang sighed gloomily, “But that’s my manly medal of honor.”
Luo Danqing shot him a look of disdain and snorted, “Then don’t drag me to the bathroom with you in the middle of the night.”
Zheng Pang choked and glared at him: “…Are you really my bro?”
Luo Danqing: “I don’t have a coward like you for a brother.”
The three of them laughed and joked their way through lunch, then went back to the dorm for a nap.
Zhang Xianyu had just lain down when Lin Wushui messaged him, asking what he wanted for dinner so he could buy groceries in advance.
Zhang Xianyu instantly guessed what he was up to.
Yesterday, he’d told Lin Wushui he’d move back to the dorm.
After all, he couldn’t keep living at someone else’s place, and Lin Wushui refused to take rent, which made him feel awkward.
But the moment he brought it up, Lin always got upset.
His handsome face would turn gloomy, and he’d just look at him with those deep eyes, then after a while, reach down to touch his cast, sighing heavily.
He never said a word, but his meaning was crystal clear.
Zhang Xianyu thought he and Wu Shui really were siblings—both drama kings through and through.
Still, considering Lin Wushui’s leg wasn’t healed yet and it’d be inconvenient for him, Zhang Xianyu agreed to sleep in the Family Building at night, but would rest in the dorm at noon for convenience.
Lin Wushui was probably worried he wouldn’t come back at night, which is why he started messaging about dinner so early.
[Sweet and sour pork ribs, dry-fried shredded pork, tomato and egg soup.]
Zhang Xianyu squinted and smiled, sending him a reply.