Chapter 26: Lament of Mortal Fate

When Lin Xia returned from the water town, she was immediately greeted by a phone call from her editor, Meow Meow, urging her to submit her manuscript.

“Ah, Xiaoyan, I heard you went traveling. Be honest, did you actually do any writing?”

Lin Xia sighed, clutching the phone as she lay at the head of her bed, her fingers twirling the cord, sounding pitiful, “It was the holidays, so I gave myself a few days off. You know how hard it is for us students.”

Meow Meow, on the other end, was full of bravado. “You’ve got the nerve to say that! I haven’t been on vacation in ages. You’re deliberately making me jealous, aren’t you? Ugh~~~~(>_<)~~~~”

Lin Xia was embarrassed.

She pleaded, “I was wrong, Sister Meow, I really know I was wrong. You’re generous, please forgive me.”

“Hmph, forgiving you isn’t out of the question. You know, your first book sold pretty well, and the magazine intends to ride this momentum, give you some publicity, and launch your second book. Yet, you don’t have a single manuscript ready. I really don’t know how you write—do you never have anything in reserve?” Meow Meow sounded exasperated.

“Do you realize how fierce the competition is in the book market right now? You’ve finally gained a bit of fame—how can you afford to rest on your laurels? Write quickly, and give me two short stories for these two issues as well. Since your finals, it’s been three months and six issues without your work; the readers’ letters are nearly drowning our editorial department.”

Lin Xia laughed sheepishly, “It can’t be that serious, Sister Meow. I’m just a little nobody, aren’t I?”

Even now, Lin Xia, poor thing, hadn’t realized how much things had changed.

“I don’t care. Anyway, before school starts at the end of this summer, I want to see your long manuscript,” Meow Meow ordered. “And short stories for every issue. You’re now one of our magazine’s mainstays—no slacking. Otherwise, expect my calls every day to harass you!”

“Wouldn’t dare… yes, yes…” By the time Lin Xia hung up, she was drenched in sweat.

“Hoo—” She let out a breath. It seemed editors were always persistent when it came to chasing manuscripts, no matter the time.

But Lin Xia stroked her chin; being chased for manuscripts didn’t feel so bad, really.

Thinking in this self-consoling way, she cheerfully shuffled in her slippers, hugging her pajamas as she headed into the bathroom.

With a thought, she entered her space.

Now Lin Xia was lazily soaking in that pool, one hand holding a novel, the other crunching on an apple, utterly at ease.

Indeed, time in this space, while not completely stopped, was almost static compared to the outside world.

She could take a bath, finish a book, and not even a minute would pass outside.

With this in mind, Lin Xia felt no guilt at all.

After half a semester’s experiments—with plants, animals, fish, chickens, ducks, and so on—the water had shown no special effects.

Especially that day, after watering the flowers and observing them closely, she noticed her own pet, Ah Mao, sprawled in the basin, happily drinking the pool water.

That was when she confirmed the water was indeed non-toxic.

Animals are generally sensitive, which is why they detect earthquakes before humans.

Later, on the day her mother bought fish, Lin Xia deliberately poured some water into the big basin holding the fish.

She found that after drinking it, the fish became lively and energetic.

Especially one fish, which had been on the verge of turning belly-up; once the water was added, it instantly revived.

Lin Xia couldn’t help marveling.

What kind of magical elixir was this, so extraordinary?

Afterward, the fish lived for nearly a week at home without any issues.

Only then did Lin Xia feel at ease.

Still, she didn’t dare let her family drink the water, preferring to use it as a hot spring for soaking.

Anyway, the water was living, never dirty.

Sometimes, Lin Xia gazed at the crystal-clear spring, bubbling up from its source, and wondered to herself.

Just what kind of space was this?

Could it be a nexus between outer space or another world and Earth?

Whenever she thought this, Lin Xia would shudder.

Who knows what creature might emerge if it were true?

But these were just idle musings.

Since Heaven allowed her a second life, her luck couldn’t possibly be so bad.

After finishing a novel and eating an apple, Lin Xia changed into her pajamas and lazily emerged from the space.

It was time to get to work.

While soaking in the hot spring and reading "The Illusionary City," her new story had already taken shape in her mind.

She would call it "Sigh of Mortal Ties."

He was the brightest white-robed youth in the celestial realm, standing with hands clasped behind him, lonely and desolate, accompanied only by a few purple bamboos that kept him company day after day.

She was the weakest and most ordinary among those purple bamboos, yet she had looked up to him for six hundred years.

White robes frosted with brilliance, crystal blossoms, vermilion tears.

The story began with the youth’s only gentle touch—a blossom formed, a vermilion tear shed, and love took root.

A moment became eternity.

Later, the youth descended to the mortal world, and the purple bamboo became a spirit.

The purple bamboo yearned for a century; out of obsession, she transformed and wished to follow him to the human realm.

Finally, moved by her sincerity, the Bodhisattva agreed to let her descend, but fate was cruel, and her lifelong pursuit remained unfulfilled.

The purple bamboo endured eighty-one tribulations of karma, preserving a sliver of soul and reincarnating as a human.

Reborn, they crossed paths time and again, each time failing to find what they sought.

Obsession too deep turns to madness.

Such is life, so fleeting, so unpredictable; fate cannot be coerced.

Looking back through past lives, after a thousand cycles of reincarnation,

Only the green mountains remain, and a single song, "Sigh of Mortal Ties," lingers.

He was the strategist of Wei, she was the princess of the enemy state.

Opposing identities, a forbidden love, two hearts falling together.

Thunderous war drums, the sound of strings snapping, the battlefield thick with smoke.

No lovers, only enmity.

He wore white, like a prince beyond the mortal world. She in armor, like a general from ancient times.

His expression cold, bow aimed at her.

She, the same.

But in the end, he chose to yield; she chose to release the arrow.

When he fell, her heart-wrenching cry moved the hundreds of thousands of soldiers on both sides.

“No—”

Heaven and earth trembled.

Cradling his head, kissing his smiling lips, she held him tight.

Life and death together.

After forsaking the Three Thousand Worlds, could they meet again in the mortal realm?

Such was the fate.

Three thousand worlds forsaken, could beauty be found anew, and would the mortal world remain unchanged?

And so it was.