Chapter 50

In the modern world, Gu Wan had a happy and fulfilling family. The abundance of positive energy throughout her upbringing became the source of her unwavering optimism, no matter what life threw her way. Even when she awoke to find herself imprisoned, awaiting exile, she uttered a startled curse, but quickly rose to contemplate how to escape her predicament, eventually thinking of Xie Ci.

She once had a wonderful boyfriend. Gu Wan considered herself fortunate: in her previous life, when she nearly succumbed to her greatest setback, she met someone who never let go of her hand, who led her out of despair and helped her reclaim justice.

Her parents' fate came late; after a nine-year courtship, they finally married, welcoming a pair of twins in their early thirties. Gu Wan was the elder sister, and she had a twin brother. She was lively and cheerful—a ray of sunshine—while her brother was gentle and affectionate, the apple of their parents’ eye. Their stern father could never suppress a smile when watching them, and their mother would kiss their cheeks every evening after work. Grandparents from both sides filled their home with laughter and warmth.

Of course, there were times when tempers flared, but overall, they were happy. Gu Wan grew up joyfully to the age of fourteen, her childhood ambition always to become an outstanding criminal investigator like her father. School and martial arts training kept her busy and content.

The first tragedy struck when she was fourteen. Her brother was in a car accident: his leg was broken, and he could no longer walk. Though the siblings were close, they had their own friends and interests as they grew older. Boys and girls, once inseparable, gradually drifted into their own circles after middle school.

Gu Wan’s brother did nothing wrong. He and his classmates were waiting for the light to change on the sidewalk when a runaway truck crashed into them. Disaster is unpredictable. After surgery, a metal plate was inserted into his leg, and he could never walk briskly again.

His dream, like Gu Wan’s, was to become a criminal investigator. After the accident, that was no longer possible. He broke down and cried, but eventually, he forced a smile, telling the family he’d pursue something else. He admitted that he wasn’t as skilled as his sister in martial arts and would likely never be as excellent a police officer as her.

But the family had no idea that this accident was the seed of future tragedy. Among twins, one is usually stronger than the other—so it was with Gu Wan and her brother. She was the robust one, born at a healthy weight, energetic, with a natural talent for sports; even the master at her martial arts school decided to take her as a formal pupil. Her brother, however, was more frail, born under four pounds, suffered from asthma, and was prone to illness during seasonal changes. Sensitive and delicate, he required much reassurance after the accident to regain his spirit.

But fate cannot be fought. His leg injury was severe; those familiar with such cases know that children or adolescents with serious leg fractures requiring metal plates must undergo repeated surgeries as they grow, replacing the plates for proper bone development. It often results in unequal leg lengths. Gu Wan’s brother’s injury was even worse, with damage not only to the tibia and fibula but also to the knee joint, requiring multiple plates. The doctors warned of another major surgery after he turned eighteen, critical for his mobility as an adult.

Their parents spared no effort, consulting specialists and securing the best doctors. When he came of age, he underwent three consecutive surgeries, but the outcome was disappointing. He was left with a limp—not pronounced, but noticeable—a devastating blow.

Their mother took a leave of absence, rented an apartment near his university, and cared for him. She was a doctor, who had studied psychology for years, and became the key to maintaining his mental health. Their father, busy with work, drove long distances after each shift to visit, and Gu Wan flew home every weekend to be with her brother.

Yet, the family’s efforts could not withstand the malice of the world. Her brother was handsome, with delicate features and fair skin. From middle school, he was admired as the school's heartthrob. Despite his aloofness and reluctance, his academic excellence and cool demeanor made him the focus of attention.

Teenagers’ malice is straightforward and fueled by jealousy. After the accident, he became withdrawn and sensitive, and after several conflicts, these classmates became vicious adversaries.

At that time, he suffered from depression. The second year after his limp, during his sophomore year, a conflict with those classmates erupted. That afternoon, he jumped from the thirteenth floor of the teaching building and died instantly.

Gu Wan would never forget that dusk, the moment the news arrived. She fainted at once, revived only after someone pressed her philtrum. She couldn’t recall how she got into the car or made it to the university town. Only the memory remained: the fading sunlight, a pool of blood, the blue cloth covering her brother’s body soaked in dark red. Her mind buzzed as she struggled past the barriers, lifted the cloth, and collapsed in a dead faint.

Looking back now, Gu Wan finds it hard to remember how she survived those days—chaotic, agonizing. But what suffocated her most was the forensic report: suicide. The city’s criminal investigation team, her father’s colleagues and subordinates, spared no effort, but found no conclusive evidence.

The first verdict: those classmates were acquitted of murder; Gu Xi’s death was ruled a suicide, and the accused were released in court.

Now, in retrospect, Gu Wan understands it wasn’t the forensic’s fault; their professionalism lies in strict adherence to physical evidence. The investigators did all they could, but the city had case after case, and they couldn’t endlessly dwell on this relatively minor event. She had long made peace with it.

But at the time, she was nearly driven mad. Just the day before, her brother had told her he would take his medication diligently, aiming to recover enough to stop by next semester. After years of healing in a loving family, his eyes had regained clarity and innocence, and he smiled at Gu Wan with a small tiger tooth, looking so youthful.

How could Gu Xi have killed himself? Absolutely impossible! Gu Wan refused to believe it.

She had always been positive and energetic, faltering only once, nearly unable to rise again. She even lost faith in the profession of forensic science. Due to repeated surgeries, the siblings were three grades apart. She was about to graduate, having passed the provincial bureau’s assessment, and was soon to become a forensic investigator with the provincial criminal investigation team.

Gu Wan gave it all up. It was the lowest point of her life. She desperately told everyone her brother couldn’t have committed suicide, but the evidence and forensic report were clear. Her uncles and friends could only comfort or advise her to accept reality.

Her father, deputy director in charge of criminal investigations, went half grey in a few months, aged years. That resolute man, who had spent his life commanding respect, knelt for the first time, sobbing uncontrollably. That day, he hoarsely told her to let go.

But Gu Wan wouldn’t! Her brother would never commit suicide!

In her moment of despair, a single person stood by her and said, “I believe you!”

If you say Xiao Xi didn’t kill himself, I believe it.

He took a leave of absence, held her hand, encouraged her, and together they spent a year investigating, exhausting every avenue. Finally, during a careless conversation among the suspects, they confirmed the truth: it was not suicide.

From the recording of a girl who had been bullied by the group, they discovered an original tape revealing how the group deliberately humiliated and provoked Gu Xi, inciting him to an episode and then coaxing him to jump.

That person was Gu Wan’s boyfriend, Chen Feiyang.

He was two years her senior, a fellow student, both protégés of the renowned forensic expert Deputy Director Gong. When Gu Wan started her internship, her mentor assigned Chen Feiyang to guide her.

With charming eyes and a radiant smile, they were schoolmates and colleagues. Their story began romantically, not extraordinary at first, but it evolved into an unforgettable love story.

The group was brought back to court. The second trial found them guilty of intentional homicide, citing extreme severity and social harm, sentencing them to death with suspended sentences of two to five years, stripping them of political rights for life. The defendants collapsed, terrified and weeping.

Gu Wan cried uncontrollably. Outside the High Court, the sunlight was blinding. She lay on Chen Feiyang’s shoulder, releasing a year’s worth of grief and determination.

After resolving this trauma, she quickly recovered. Originally, she had studied forensic science as a compromise after her father was injured and her mother objected to her majoring in criminal investigation. She thought, after all, many team leaders were former forensic experts.

After resigning, she moved on, deciding to partner with friends to open a private detective agency. If not for an accident with a flowerpot, she and Chen Feiyang would have been engaged by now.

After the rain, the sun emerged; April’s sunlight blazed, evening clouds tinted the sky and fields, coloring the thriving shrubs and grasses crimson.

Gu Wan sobbed openly, her heart pricked with pain, tears streaming down. She let herself cry.

She knew she was lucky—reborn, she had gained more than anyone. Who else gets a second chance at life? One must cherish blessings. Perhaps fate couldn’t bear to see a hero like Xie Ci meet a tragic end and sent her to save him, to save the Xie family.

She understood all this; the hardest times were behind her, and she had reasoned herself through it. When she traveled north to Xiangzhou, she often sat under the moon hugging her knees, eventually deciding, inspired by Xie Ci and mutual affection, to let go of the past, settle in this dynasty, and live earnestly, continuing a meaningful but not ordinary life.

That was good enough, wasn’t it?

Gu Wan almost believed she had let go, but today, she realized she hadn’t. She still missed the past.

She missed Chen Feiyang, missed her parents, though she knew they would not be left alone. Her father had adopted several children from fallen comrades, and their home was always full of kids, the compound bustling like an airport.

Without her, they would look after her parents in old age, and her parents had ample pensions. Once they recovered from the blow, their later years would be comfortable.

But she still missed them dearly!

Gu Wan’s arrival had been under such extraordinary circumstances: locked in a death cell, then transferred to the Iron Lattice Temple’s outer prison. The whole family, young and old, suffered—little Niuniu had a convulsion and nearly died. There was no time for her to reminisce.

After that ordeal, Xie Ci endured so much yet kept going, and even when he urged her to cry, she couldn’t.

She simply moved on.

This time, it was a long-delayed cry; Gu Wan finally broke down, letting herself weep freely.

Damn it! After everything settled, she had often fantasized about the future: taking a horse, a sword, perhaps a flask of wine, wandering the mountains and rivers alone. When tired, she would rest; when refreshed, she would continue. When she missed them, she would return to see Xie Ci and Qin Ying.

By then, she would be healed, and her memories of her previous life would surface only rarely, perhaps in dreams or when wandering the landscape. She’d leave behind a smile tinged with regret and melancholy, and move on.

But now, she realized it wasn’t so easy. Before, she didn’t think of it, but now, as she let herself remember, she found a part of her heart still aching, rooted deep, growing stronger the more she dwelled on it, twisting up inside her.

She sobbed, "It’s all your fault, all your fault!"

She had been fine, so what was the point of confessing? Was she so wonderful? How could he silently fall for her? Even rejection didn’t work; he clung to her, making her recall all these things.

Her heart hurt terribly, and she beat Xie Ci, crying and blaming him, “It’s all your fault, all your fault!”

The tent was suffused with the glow of the sunset. Her tears were devastating. Xie Ci had never seen her cry like this; at most, he’d witnessed a few tears of joy, quickly wiped away with a smile.

She had never cried, but now she sobbed so fiercely, losing all composure. Xie Ci’s heart was breaking; panic-stricken, he wiped her tears, fetched a handkerchief, but her tears would not stop.

At dusk, her tearful eyes held a sorrow that Xie Ci could not comprehend. He was deeply pained; at this moment, he forgot everything—love, affection, all his feelings were cast aside. All he sensed was the burning heat of her tears.

Xie Ci said, "Yes, yes, yes, it’s all my fault! I’ll change, just please don’t cry!"

His own tears fell unknowingly. As long as she stopped crying, as long as she stopped hurting, he would do anything. “Please, don’t cry, don’t cry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault!”

“Maybe, maybe I misunderstood, perhaps it’s not what I thought, maybe I was wrong—let me think again,…” Xie Ci babbled on, offering comfort, but nothing seemed to help. Finally, he blurted out something unexpected.

Gu Wan:

Huh?

Her grief was halted by reality; she stopped crying abruptly, looked up, and hesitated, "Really?"

She was tear-stained, her eyes swollen, shining with moisture in the fading light. The whites of her eyes were streaked with red, making her look finally like the young girl she was.

Xie Ci’s chest ached, but he immediately replied, "Yes, I should! As long as you stop, I’ll do anything!"

Gu Wan’s tears were heart-wrenching. Only now did Xie Ci realize she had a vulnerable side; she wouldn’t always smile, she could cry, she was just an ordinary girl—she wouldn’t always be strong.

Was loving someone worth disregarding her wishes?

Xie Ci only wanted to bring her happiness, never to make her cry. It felt as if a hand had reached into his chest and gripped his heart sharply, but without thinking, he held her hand and nodded, "Let me think it over again, alright?"

The ruby ring was wrapped tightly in his palm; he clenched it, not letting her see it again. "This time, I’ll definitely figure it out."

Let’s pretend today never happened, shall we?