Chapter 171: No Chance to Meet Again
Lan Wu gently withdrew her hand, deciding not to try again.
Chu Mingheng looked at Huifan, his gaze so calm it carried a hint of gloom and lifelessness.
“This humble monk knows why Your Majesty has come,” Huifan slowly uttered, then gestured for Chu Mingheng to enter the hall. “Please come inside to speak, Your Majesty.”
The two entered the hall and sat facing each other.
Huifan poured a cup of tea for Chu Mingheng, his expression tinged with compassion as he lowered his gaze.
Chu Mingheng did not drink the tea, only stared at him. “Since you know my purpose, I will ask you one question: is there…”
When he reached the second half of the sentence, Chu Mingheng suddenly could not continue. He clenched his hand into a fist, yet his eyes remained fixed on Huifan. Finally, he uttered the words: “…is there a way to bring the dead back to life…”
Huifan shook his head gently and spoke the truth. “Your Majesty, forgive me. There truly is no method in this world to resurrect the dead. The person Your Majesty wishes to see will not be seen again in this lifetime.”
What answered him was Chu Mingheng’s silence.
From the moment he received the news and rushed back halfway, to seeing Lan Wu’s corpse laid out in a cold room, witnessing those ghastly purple bruises from strangulation, smelling the slow gathering and drifting scent of decay from her body…
He had long lost hope for that so-called sliver of possibility, yet he clung stubbornly to a faint thought—perhaps, what if?
Upon hearing Huifan’s words, he only thought to himself—as expected.
But soon, Huifan continued with his next sentence:
“Though you cannot meet again in this life, if there is a next life, Your Majesty will have your wish fulfilled.”
The voice drifted softly into his ears like a breeze, carrying these words that filled his ears with pain, his eardrums throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat—chaotic and disordered.
Unclear.
Indistinguishable.
Who was speaking?
Chu Mingheng raised a hand to support his head, his cold gaze sweeping over Huifan’s face. He opened his mouth as if unable to comprehend the other’s words, asking him word by word: “What did you say—”
Huifan spoke again, his voice gradually becoming clearer, and his words reached Chu Mingheng’s ears:
“No chance in this life, but there is the next. Your Majesty will have your wish.”
After hearing Huifan’s words, Lan Wu only saw Chu Mingheng’s eyes suddenly focus, bursting with life in an instant, like withered wood meeting spring, yet also filled with disbelief. His lips trembled, and a faint flush rose on his pale face.
He turned his head and abruptly spat out a mouthful of blood.
Lan Wu urgently called out to him.
At that moment, the surroundings once again grew illusory, and everything before her dissipated like grains of dust.
Lan Wu did not even have time to reach for Chu Mingheng before everything before her turned into a blank white.
The bell tolled once more.
Lan Wu abruptly opened her eyes, only to see the carved bedpost above her.
Light filtered through the gauze curtains of the bed canopy—it was already morning.
She awoke in a daze, yet everything in the dream felt as if it had truly happened before her eyes. She remembered every detail, every word clearly.
That was what happened after her death in her previous life.
Though there was no reason for it, Lan Wu suddenly felt certain in her heart that it had truly occurred.
Her heart beat violently, her breathing quickening involuntarily.
Beyond this, what occupied her thoughts more was Chu Mingheng.
What does it feel like to throw a floating plank to a drowning person? Or to offer a handful of clear spring water to one dying of thirst?
Lan Wu was absolutely certain that in the dream, Chu Mingheng’s feelings were no less intense than either of the two.
To everyone except Chu Mingheng, she was already dead, her body decayed. Yet Huifan had forcibly planted a sliver of hope in his mind, allowing him to cling to it—was it quenching thirst with poison? Or courting destruction? Although, in hindsight, Master Huifan’s words held some truth, for Chu Mingheng at that time, he knew nothing, was certain of nothing. He had simply been abruptly given a reason to keep living.
Suddenly, Lan Wu felt moisture on her face. Reaching up to touch it, she found her cheeks wet with tears.
She rose and called for someone to enter.
When the palace maids entered and saw Lan Wu sitting on the couch, wiping away tears one hand after the other, they were greatly alarmed.
Dan Shan instructed someone to fetch water, then hurriedly used a clean handkerchief to wipe Lan Wu’s tears, speaking softly, “What has Your Ladyship remembered to cry so bitterly…”
Lan Wu’s tears had already stopped. She took the handkerchief herself, cleared her throat gently, and said softly, “It’s nothing… I was just missing His Majesty.”
Missing His Majesty?
Dan Shan smiled lightly, pleased to see their affection, and took advantage of the water brought by the maid to help Lan Wu rise. She then comforted her, “Your Ladyship need not worry so much. It’s only three months. The scenery on this mountain is lovely. If Your Ladyship feels bored, you can take walks around. When the peach blossoms on the mountain bloom, His Majesty will come to fetch you.”
Lan Wu nodded silently, allowing the maids to wash and dress her. Only then did she remember what she had just said.
“Are there peach blossoms on the mountain?”
“Yes, there’s a peach grove on the western side. They’ll bloom in April. When the time comes, this servant will take Your Ladyship to see them.”
Recalling the dream, Lan Wu said softly, “Have someone prepare. I will go to Wuji Temple this afternoon.”
So soon?
Although Guifei had come to Changyong Mountain under the pretext of praying for His Majesty’s blessings, hadn’t they just arrived at Changyong Mountain yesterday? Was she going to Wuji Temple today?
“Your Ladyship, you must be tired from the journey. Wouldn’t it be better to rest for a few days before going to Wuji Temple?” Dan Shan inquired, seeking her opinion.
But Lan Wu shook her head. Though her tone was gentle, it was firm, and her expression was somewhat complicated. “Today. I want to take a look first.”
Dan Shan did not try to persuade her further.
In the afternoon, the prepared carriage set out from the villa, heading north toward Wuji Temple.
After about half an hour, the carriage stopped outside Wuji Temple.
Compared to Nanli Temple within the imperial city, Wuji Temple appeared more secluded. Built on the mountain, the golden peaks of the temple’s Buddha statues were faintly visible, half-hidden among the forested slopes.
The temple gate opened, and before Lan Wu could alight from the carriage, several people emerged from inside, all dressed in monastic robes. They approached and performed a Buddhist salute to Lan Wu.
“The main hall has been prepared. Please, Your Ladyship.”
Lan Wu did not say much to them, only observing her surroundings briefly as she entered.
Unlike the spaciousness of Nanli Temple, this temple felt somewhat cramped and damp due to the mountain forest’s shade. However, the mountain environment was serene, and the grounds were clean and tidy. From time to time, as she passed certain halls, she could hear the chanting of monks.
Lan Wu followed the guiding monk into a Golden Hall already guarded by imperial guards.
Just as she was about to enter, someone beside her spoke, “This place is sacred. Only Your Ladyship may enter. If you have any requests, you may call upon this young monk.”
With that, he led the person in.
The man bowed his head slightly, clasped his hands together, and saluted: “This humble monk’s dharma name is Wuwei. Greetings, Your Highness.”
Lan Wu looked at them, gave a slight nod, and then signaled for the palace attendants to wait outside the hall for her.