Chapter 1: Mysterious Rebirth
Her eyelids parted heavily, as if weighed down by invisible stones. Shadows clung to the damp walls of the cave, the oppressive darkness pierced only by the sputtering amber glow of a solitary torch. She pushed herself up, her muscles trembling with the effort, and surveyed her surroundings. It was stark—nothing more than a rough-hewn stone bed beneath her and a low wooden table nearby.
Her left arm and leg were bound in coarse linen bandages, secured at the ends.
While her right hand moved freely, a sharp ache flared whenever she shifted her right leg. Yet, the physical pain paled in comparison to the void in her mind. Her head felt empty and hollow; grasping for a name, a memory, or a reason for her presence in this cave yielded nothing but blankness.
Forcing herself to stand, she approached the table. A bundle of bamboo slips lay beside a clay bowl filled with a dark, stagnant liquid, alongside an assortment of dried provisions and preserved fruits. She unrolled the bamboo slips, her eyes tracing the elegant ink strokes.
The letter read,"Young girl, drink your medicine first. It will give you enough energy to return to your town. When you get out of the cave, go straight west, and when you see the road, go north. It's not far..."
Setting the slips aside, she reached for the bowl. The clay was still faintly warm against her fingertips. Pinching her nose, she downed the dark liquid in a single gulp. Her features twisted into a deep grimace as the sharp, astringent bitterness burned down her throat, forcing a harsh cough from her lips.
She stared toward the cave entrance. Perhaps this person left right before I woke, purposefully leaving directions to my hometown. A chill crept down her spine. Did he already know my memories were gone?
She picked up the bamboo slips again and continued reading, "I left a walking stick at the cave entrance. Your wounds have almost healed, and you will be fine. As for what happened to you and who you are, I do not know. An old friend brought this body here. She already died. He asked me to call your soul back to be reborn in this body. He gave up his life for that, and I buried him here as he had wished. When you go down, you will see his grave. He left you a letter and a box. I placed them next to his grave. Young girl, the direction of the town that I told you was the hometown of this body. She had a tragic fate, maybe because of this. My method of returning the soul this time worked. Not all people get a second chance in life like you do. Start a new life and be happy. I do not know if one day you will remember your memories; it all depends on your fate."
Her palm pressed hard against her temple. The characters echoed like thunder in her mind—"This body," "call your soul back," "second chance." What did that mean? Did it mean she had already died once, and the man who brought her back to life was dead because of her? But why? Who was she to him?
She forced her trembling fingers to uncurl from her scalp. One breath, then another.
She reached for the dried food and swallowed water in slow, rhythmic gulps until the shaking in her hands subsided. Then, stowing the bamboo slips into her sleeve, she walked out of the cave with small, measured steps. Halfway to the entrance, she paused, turned back to the table, and gathered the few dried apricots into her sleeve.
Stepping outside the cave, her breath caught. The world was a vibrant tapestry of lush, emerald foliage and wild blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze. It appeared to be the dawn of spring. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, letting the crisp, floral-scented air fill her burning lungs.
"Let's see what awaits me," she murmured.
She started down the incline, leaning heavily on the wooden walking stick left at the entrance. Fortunately, the cave was hidden away from prominent paths. When she reached the bottom, she spotted a mound of earth. The soil remained dark and damp.
A gravestone bore the carved inscription, "An old friend."
She thought this person did not want to leave his name in this world, leaving only the epitaph on the gravestone. But what about her? What was his relationship to her?
She picked up the wooden box resting at the base of the stone, found a bamboo slip placed beside it, and began to read.
"I feel no remorse for what happened. We were enemies; we had different paths and different ambitions. But two years after your death, I learned you were the only sister of that person. I owe him my life, your brother. If I had known that, I would never have tried to hurt you for his sake, but I did not know. Now, all I can do is ask my friend to do me a favor: bring back your soul. He said 'this is an old and dangerous method and requires a lot of energy.' If I were uninjured, perhaps I could have survived, but your soul could not hold on. It would vanish. I had one chance to try. Whether you returned to life and remembered your past or not is not my concern. I want to tell your brother I truly tried to correct my mistake and repay his life by giving up mine for you. I found this young girl's body at the bottom of the cliff. She had already died from blood loss, and I did not know who she was. She had the pendant I placed inside the box."
As she finished the letter, her brows drew together in a tight knot. Someone had surrendered his life to bring her back-not for her, but to repay a debt to her brother, who had died long ago. Worse still, this man might have been the very culprit behind her death in her previous life. He was simultaneously her killer and her savior.
She forced her erratic thoughts to calm. Since her memory was a blank slate, she resolved not to let the paradox consume her just yet.
She knelt, her gaze fixed on the rough stone, and whispered, "Thank you, Benefactor, for saving me."
Opening the wooden box, she examined its contents. Inside lay a beautiful jade pendant, though its curved edge was rough, indicating it was only half of a complete set. Beside it sat a weathered red sachet embroidered with the character 兄. She picked it up, running her thumb over the stitching, and brought it to her nose. A faint, lingering scent of azaleas clung to the fabric.
"Is this from my brother?" she whispered to herself.
She did not head straight for the town. Instead, she retreated to the safety of the cave. She needed time to fully recover her strength and carefully plan her next steps.
This time, she explored her surroundings thoroughly, discovering a small, crystal-clear underground river flowing deep within the cavern.
Kneeling by the water's edge, she studied her reflection. Almond eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, stared back at her. She had a small, straight nose, full pink lips, and flawlessly smooth, pale skin.
She touched her cheek, the water mirroring the gesture. "This face might bring a lot of trouble," she whispered.
She recalled the words from her savior's letter: he had stumbled upon this body at the bottom of a cliff. She wondered who could be cruel enough to push someone so beautiful. Or had she jumped? Was it murder, or a desperate escape?
With ample free time in the solitary cave, she passed the hours by finishing the provisions, starting with the tart apricots and ending with the sweet red bayberries.
Wrapped in a rough blanket on the stone bed, she decided she needed a starting point. The most logical step was to find the original body's home and family. She could not be entirely certain the fantastical story of her soul's rebirth was true, but since she inhabited this flesh, she owed it to the girl to uncover the truth of her demise.
Lost in her plotting, she did not realize when sleep finally claimed her.
In her dream, the wind howled as she plummeted from the jagged edge of a cliff.
She woke with a violent jolt, her heart pounding furiously against her ribs.
The cave was already bright with morning light. Staring at the golden rays streaming through the entrance, her racing pulse slowly settled.
What a terrifying dream... Was that my memory, or the memory of the girl who died?
She placed a hand over her chest, steadying her breaths. When she stood, she was relieved to find the agonizing ache in her left leg had faded to a dull throb. The medicine had worked its magic.
After washing her face in the icy river water, she twisted her hair into a simple bun. She paused to examine her hairpin, noting the chipped edges likely caused by the fall, though the craftsmanship suggested it was an item of significant value
The original owner's family must be wealthy, she concluded.
She cast one last glance at the empty clay bowls. All that remained were a few pieces of heavily spiced dried radish, which she had nearly choked on the night before.
She stepped out of the cave, finally ready to face whatever fate had orchestrated for her. She followed the letter's crude directions. It was not a vast distance, but her weakened body betrayed her; soon, she was breathless, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. Wiping her brow, she assumed this delicate body was unaccustomed to strenuous travel, and her muscles still ached deeply from the trauma of the fall.
She could not help but shake her head in amusement. If enemies were chasing me right now, I would be dead before my story even began.
A soft laugh escaped her lips as she pictured her pathetic attempt at a grand escape.
The sudden, thunderous drumming of galloping hooves shattered her amusement. Before she could react, a troop of armored riders tore past her at breakneck speed. The violent rush of wind and flying dirt threw her off balance. She tumbled backward, hitting the hard earth with a sharp cry of pain.
A harsh voice rose above the dust. "Halt!"
