Chapter 149: Absolutely Impossible

The mountain was much colder than the foot of the hill—not just cold, but also damp, as if the mist between the peaks had dispersed, leaving dew that soaked the surrounding air and lingered over the entire mountain.

A faint, cool fragrance filled the hall, unlike the sandalwood incense from the temple ahead, more reminiscent of wintersweet.

Lan Wu sat beside Chu Mingheng, her mind wandering for a moment before she quickly regained focus and watched Master Huifan take his pulse.

Nothing unusual could be discerned from the expressions on either of their faces, but the heavy silence was unsettling.

Master Huifan glanced at Chu Mingheng, then at Lan Wu, before gently withdrawing his hand.

“Your Majesty’s obsession runs too deep,” he sighed, as if there were no solution, and added, “This humble monk has said before that Your Majesty should let go.”

“If this continues, Your Majesty’s headaches will worsen, and one day, you may lose your senses.”

“Please take care, Your Majesty.”

These words could not be avoided in Lan Wu’s presence, so when she heard them, she instinctively tensed and looked at Chu Mingheng.

Chu Mingheng lowered his gaze slightly, saying nothing, until a warm touch spread from his palm.

He turned his head slightly and saw Lan Wu placing the hand warmer she held beside his hand, gripping his hand tightly, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at him.

He had not wanted to sadden Lan Wu, nor did he want her to worry about him, but now it seemed he could achieve neither.

“Master Huifan, how can His Majesty’s illness be cured? What medicine should he take?”

Lan Wu asked anxiously.

Master Huifan, however, gently shook his head: “There is no cure.”

Lan Wu’s eyes trembled, her pupils contracting sharply. Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Chu Mingheng’s hand. The warmth she had felt earlier seemed to vanish, replaced by a chilling coldness.

“No… cure…?” she murmured the words, understanding them yet refusing to accept them, unwilling to believe.

Chu Mingheng merely had two sets of memories that had not yet connected—how could it have reached the point of being incurable?

How could this be?

“Do not frighten her,” a familiar voice came from beside her. Chu Mingheng pressed Lan Wu’s hand in return, rubbing it gently before placing the hand warmer back into her palm. His tone was calm, as if he paid no heed to Master Huifan’s earlier words.

Master Huifan shook his head gently: “Your Majesty, this humble monk does not speak falsehoods.”

At this, he turned to Lan Wu once more, bowing his head slightly and speaking softly: “Has Your Ladyship never wondered why you opened your eyes again, why you returned from death?”

These words were like a heavy stone crashing onto the thin ice of an early spring lake, shattering the surface and splashing the frigid water beneath.

Lan Wu was stunned, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Why had she been reborn, why had she returned from death… She had thought about it before, imagining that her wrongful death had moved even the gods and Buddhas to pity, granting her a chance to live again.

She had felt joy and gratitude, resentment and unwillingness, but in the end, there was no answer.

Now, it seemed as though her rebirth was connected to Master Huifan… or even to His Majesty.

Her arm was gently lifted, half of her body rising. In her daze, Lan Wu saw Chu Mingheng’s face.

Chu Mingheng was staring coldly at Huifan, looking down from a position of authority, but the emotion conveyed in his eyes was icy and terrifying, as if one more word from Huifan would cost him his life.

“Lan Wu, do not listen to such nonsense. It is getting late, we should return to the palace.” Chu Mingheng wanted to take Lan Wu away, but as he spoke, he saw her hands gripping the edge of the table, stubbornly holding herself in place, unwilling to heed his words.

“Master, what do you know? Is there… another reason behind my revival?” Lan Wu had already guessed something, her voice trembling slightly as she asked softly, “Is it… related to Your Majesty?”

Master Huifan sighed softly, unafraid of the oppressive aura emanating from the emperor standing behind Lan Wu. He simply told her, “Your Ladyship is a person blessed with great fortune and should not have died so early.”

“But life and death in this world cannot be easily reversed. There must be a price to pay.”

“Lan Wu, there is nothing worth listening to here. What price or not? How can you believe such nonsense?” Chu Mingheng interrupted him, crouching down to gently turn Lan Wu’s face toward him. “I am perfectly fine. I merely prayed before the Buddha for some time. He is deceiving you.”

Lan Wu’s eyes reddened, tears welling up but refusing to fall.

She removed Chu Mingheng’s hand, turned her head aside, and whispered, “It is you who wants to deceive me.”

“If you will not tell me the truth, I will not believe you.”

After speaking each word deliberately, she added, “If you still wish for me to trust you, say no more.”

Lan Wu had always been the one at a disadvantage when facing Chu Mingheng. No matter how much she was bullied, she would only sulk in silence or vent her anger at him, rarely truly refusing to listen to explanations.

Now, convinced that Master Huifan spoke the truth, she was even more unwilling to comply with Chu Mingheng’s urgent attempts to take her away.

Chu Mingheng crouched beside Lan Wu with a darkened expression. Seeing that he could not persuade her, he could only glare at Huifan.

But Huifan remained unthreatened by his demeanor, still wearing a kind and gentle expression, moved by Lan Wu’s desperate desire to know the truth.

“What this humble monk says ultimately cannot compare to what Your Ladyship herself knows and feels. If Your Ladyship truly wishes to understand, one day, the scenes of your past life will unfold before you like a scroll, and then you will comprehend.”

“This humble monk has said enough. As for the purpose of Your Majesty and Your Ladyship’s visit today, there is indeed another method to alleviate Your Majesty’s headaches. It depends on how Your Ladyship considers it.”

Lan Wu wanted to ask him more, but he continued slowly with another sentence.

On the way back to the palace, the carriage was unusually silent. Even the palace attendants waiting outside sensed something amiss.

Lan Wu lowered her head, leaning lightly against the soft pillow, her fingertips tracing the thumb ring Chu Mingheng had given her earlier.

Chu Mingheng sat beside her, his displeasure almost palpable.

It was more than displeasure—he wanted to kill that old monk spouting nonsense!

“I…” Lan Wu finally mustered the courage to speak, but as soon as she uttered the word, Chu Mingheng interrupted her.

Chu Mingheng’s voice was more resolute than hers. He turned his face away, refusing to look at her, his tone exceptionally firm, as if leaving no room for negotiation. “Do not even think about it. It is impossible.”

Lan Wu raised her head slightly, glanced at him, and seemed to sigh softly. “Although I do not know why I must leave you for three months, if it is effective, I will certainly agree.”

“Not only will I agree, but you must agree as well.”

Chu Mingheng’s attitude made it clear he was unwilling to agree, leaving no room for discussion.

“Do you believe his nonsense? He just wants to separate me from you! Who knows what he’s scheming—I won’t let you leave my side for a moment!”

“Absolutely impossible.”