## Chapter One: Back into the Dream
Ye Chen woke before dawn.
He sat up in bed, chest heaving, forehead slick with cold sweat. Everything from the dream was still seared into his mind—the banyan tree, the courtyard, the crack of a gunshot, Liu Ruping holding Ye Changfeng's body and crying out.
He looked beside him. Liu Ruping was still asleep, breathing softly, her face pale in the early morning light. Her hand rested on top of the blanket, fingertips slightly curled, as if she were gripping something tight even in her sleep.
Ye Chen eased himself out of bed and walked to the balcony. The city was still asleep. Distant high-rises drifted in and out of the morning haze. He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke unravel in the air.
He thought about the last image from the dream—Ye Changfeng fallen beneath the banyan tree, Liu Ruping holding him, saying, *If there's another life…*
And then what?
The dream had ended there. But Ye Chen wanted to know—after that, what happened to Su Ruoping? How did she go on living? Where did she go? How did it all end for her?
He wanted to go back into that dream.
But this time, he wanted to look forward—to see how Su Ruoping and Su Wan had come to Shouzhu Martial Hall. And he wanted to look further ahead—to see what she did after Ye Changfeng died.
He wanted to know how the woman who had stood in the kitchen doorway watching him, who had cared for him through food, who had written *I really do love you* in her last message—how she had lived her life in that other world.
## Chapter Two: Another Door into the Dream
That night, Ye Chen went to bed early.
He closed his eyes and tried to find his way back to the dream. He thought about Shouzhu Martial Hall, about the banyan tree, about Su Ruoping's face. His consciousness slowly sank, as if falling toward somewhere very deep.
The dream came.
But this time, it began differently.
Ye Chen found himself standing on a country road. Fields stretched out on either side, mountains in the distance. The sky was overcast, heavy with the threat of rain. An ox cart swayed along the road, carrying two women.
One was about sixteen. Her face was delicate, her eyes deep—the eyes of someone who had seen a great deal of suffering. Her hand held tight to the girl beside her.
The girl was about eleven. Her eyes were swollen, as if she had just been crying.
## Chapter Three: The Two Su Sisters
They were Su Ruoping and Su Wan.
Ye Chen knew this, even though he had never met them. Just as he had known Ye Changfeng's name in the previous dream, he knew now—who these two women were, where they were going, and why.
Su Ruoping's father had died when she was thirteen.
It was an ordinary day. He was working in the fields when he suddenly collapsed. No one knew the cause—maybe heatstroke, maybe his heart, maybe his body had simply given out. By the time they carried him home, he was already gone.
Her mother wept for three days and three nights. She sat before her husband's spirit tablet and said nothing, only cried. Su Ruoping stood beside her and said nothing either. She just stayed.
After her father died, life grew harder. Her mother's health had never been good, and the loss made it worse. She began coughing blood, then could no longer get out of bed. Su Ruoping stopped going to school. She took over the housework, the farmwork, the care of her mother.
Su Wan was only eight then. She was still young, still wanted to go to school, still wanted something like a normal childhood. But she watched her sister working every day, watched her mother moaning in the sickbed, and she grew up too. She started helping with the chores, started learning to care for their mother, started to understand—some things cannot be changed.
Their mother lived three more years. For three years, Su Ruoping held the family together with her young body. She worked the fields, hired herself out as a domestic in town, helped in other people's kitchens. Her hands grew rough. Her face grew pale. Her eyes grew deep.
She never complained.
Su Wan asked her once: "Sister, aren't you tired?"
Su Ruoping smiled. "Of course I am. But we still have to live."
In her final days, their mother called Su Ruoping to her bedside.
"Ruoping," she said, "I can't take care of you anymore."
"Mom," Su Ruoping said, holding her hand, "don't say that."
"I need to say it," her mother said, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I need to finish. I've heard there's a martial hall in Liuxi Town—Shouzhu Martial Hall. The master is a man named Ye Shouzhu. He's a man of principle. Take Wan'er and go find him. Tell him our situation. He's a good man. He'll help you."
"Mom…"
"Promise me." Her mother turned her head and looked at Su Ruoping, her gaze steady. "Take care of Wan'er. Stay alive."
Su Ruoping promised through her tears.
Three days later, their mother was gone.
Su Ruoping used the last of their money to hire an ox cart and set out for Liuxi Town with Su Wan. That year, Su Ruoping was sixteen. Su Wan was eleven.
## Chapter Four: Arriving at Shouzhu Martial Hall
The front gate of Shouzhu Martial Hall was deep red.
Su Ruoping stood outside and read the couplet on the doorframe: *The fist builds the body; righteousness builds the man.* Her hand held Su Wan's, held it tight. She didn't know what would happen next—didn't know whether Ye Shouzhu would help them, didn't know whether they would be turned away.
She knocked.
The door was opened by a young man. He was about sixteen or seventeen, dressed in plain cloth, his posture straight, his eyes bright. He looked at Su Ruoping and Su Wan with a puzzled expression.
"Excuse me," Su Ruoping said, her voice quiet. "Is Master Ye here?"
That young man was Ye Changfeng.
He led Su Ruoping and Su Wan inside. The banyan tree in the courtyard swayed in the wind, its leaves whispering. Ye Shouzhu was in the middle of teaching his students. When he saw strangers enter, he stopped.
Su Ruoping knelt on the ground and told him everything, word by word—how their mother had died, how they had nowhere to go, how she had heard that Master Ye was a man of principle. By the time she finished, her tears had run dry.
Ye Shouzhu looked at her without speaking. His gaze was deep, as if he were looking at something far away.
After a long silence, he spoke. "What's your name?"
"Su Ruoping," she said. "This is my younger sister, Su Wan."
"What can you do?"
"I can cook, keep house, care for people," Su Ruoping said. "I can do anything."
Ye Shouzhu nodded. "All right. You'll stay here. Ruoping, you'll take charge of the kitchen. Wan'er, you'll learn herbs and medicine from me."
Su Ruoping raised her head. The tears came again.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you."
Ye Changfeng stood to one side, watching Su Ruoping. He watched her kneel, watched her cry, watched her slowly rise. His expression was complicated—the look of someone seeing something that matters.
## Chapter Five: Light in the Kitchen
Su Ruoping settled into life at the hall.
Every morning she was up at four—lighting the fire, boiling water, preparing breakfast. The food she made was simple: steamed rice, clear broth, pickled vegetables. But everything was made with care. The rice was perfectly cooked, each grain distinct. The broth was clean and bright. The pickles were seasoned just right.
The students at the hall all loved her cooking. They said that eating her food felt like being home.
Su Ruoping heard those words and felt a quiet ache. She knew she no longer had a home. The food she made now was for someone else's.
But she kept making every meal with the same care.
Su Wan learned her way around the herb room. Her hands were nimble, and she quickly learned to identify plants, mix formulas, and brew medicine. She loved the green growing things, loved the way they smelled. She would talk to each plant—*thank you*, she would say, *you're doing well*.
The two sisters slowly found their footing at the hall.
One day, a student was injured during sparring—his arm badly struck, bleeding heavily. Su Ruoping saw it happen. She set down what she was doing and ran over. She cleaned the wound with water, bound it with cloth, then went to get the medicine Su Wan had prepared. Her movements were quick and steady, as if she had done this many times before.
The student looked up at her. "Thank you," he said.
Su Ruoping said nothing. She just nodded.
Ye Changfeng watched all of it. He watched Su Ruoping busy herself in the kitchen, help out in the courtyard, tend to everyone around her with a quiet gentleness. Something in his expression was hard to name.
Su Wan grew up. From the eleven-year-old girl who had arrived in tears, she became a young woman of eighteen. Her skill with herbs grew steadily, and the hall's injured students came to rely on her remedies.
One day, Ye Changfeng asked Su Ruoping: "Why do you work so hard at everything?"
She stopped and looked at him. Her eyes were deep, as if she were looking at something far away.
"Because," she said, "it's the only thing I know how to do."
## Chapter Six: Not Family, but More Than Family
Time passed.
Su Ruoping had been at Shouzhu Martial Hall for seven years. She had gone from a stranger to something the hall could not do without. She knew every student by name, knew what they liked to eat, knew when they were likely to get hurt.
Su Wan had grown up. From the eleven-year-old girl who had arrived in tears, she became a young woman of eighteen. Her skill with herbs grew steadily, and the hall's injured students came to rely on her remedies.
Ye Shouzhu had come to think of Su Ruoping and Su Wan as his own daughters. He asked whether they had eaten enough, slept well, been treated fairly. In winter he made sure they had warm clothes; in summer he brought them cooling tea.
Between Ye Changfeng and Su Ruoping, there was something that resisted easy description.
They were not family, but they understood each other more deeply than most family did. He knew she liked to stand in the kitchen doorway and watch people. He knew she sometimes sat alone and drifted somewhere far away. He knew there was a grief inside her that had no words.
She knew he practiced every day without fail. She knew he was always thinking about how to protect the hall. She knew his eyes carried a deep sense of responsibility.
One night, Ye Changfeng was practicing in the moonlight. Su Ruoping came out of the kitchen and stood watching him. She was holding a cup of water, but she didn't walk over—she just stood in the doorway.
When he finished, he came to her.
"You're still up?" he asked.
"Couldn't sleep," Su Ruoping said, handing him the water. "I was thinking."
"About what?"
"About you," she said, her voice quiet. "About whether you'd be all right."
Ye Changfeng looked at her. His expression was gentle. The moonlight fell across her face and traced the soft line of her profile.
"I will be," he said. "I'll take care of myself. And I'll take care of this hall."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
"Because I have a reason," Ye Changfeng said. "It's not just the hall I'm protecting. It's you, and Su Wan, and everyone here. With a reason like that, I can't afford to fall."
Su Ruoping's tears came.
"I'm scared," she said. "I'm scared of losing you."
Ye Changfeng reached out and gently wiped her tears away.
"You won't," he said. "I promise. I'll stay alive."
But there was something in his voice that couldn't quite be named—a sadness, as if he knew the promise was hard to keep, but made it anyway, because he wanted her to feel safe.
Su Ruoping looked up at him. Her eyes were red, but she didn't cry again.
"If there's another life," she said, "I hope we can be together properly. Not like this. Not this hard."
Ye Changfeng didn't answer. He just stood beside her, looking at the same piece of moonlight.
## Chapter Seven: The Dream Moves Forward
The dream shifted.
Time seemed to fast-forward. Ye Chen watched the days pass, the seasons turn. He watched the distance between Ye Changfeng and Su Ruoping close, then widen.
Then that day came.
Zhao Tieshan arrived with a gun.
Ye Chen watched Ye Changfeng throw his last combination, watched him fall beneath the banyan tree, watched Su Ruoping hold him and cry out. He wanted to reach out and stop it, but he couldn't move. He could only watch as the things he could not change happened in front of him.
Ye Changfeng died. He was twenty-five years old.
The hall burned to the ground.
## Chapter Eight: She in the Ashes
Three days after Ye Changfeng died, Su Ruoping was still in the ruins of the hall.
She wore black, her hair loose, her face streaked with ash. She moved through the wreckage, searching. She found the wooden staff Ye Changfeng had used, a few clay jars from the kitchen, the charred roots of the banyan tree.
She gathered these things one by one and placed them in a cloth bag.
Su Wan stood nearby, watching her sister. Her eyes were swollen, her tears long spent. She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She just stood there, keeping her sister company.
Ye Shouzhu sat at the edge of the ruins, looking at what remained. His eyes were hollow, as if something essential had been taken from him. He didn't cry. He just sat and looked.
"Where will we go?" Su Wan asked Su Ruoping.
Su Ruoping stopped and looked at her sister. Her eyes were deep, as if she were looking at something far away.
"I don't know," she said. "But we have to keep living."
She turned to Ye Shouzhu.
"Master Ye," she said, "we're leaving."
Ye Shouzhu looked up at her.
"Where will you go?" he asked.
"Into town," Su Ruoping said. "I'll open a small food stall. I'll live by my cooking."
Su Ruoping walked to Ye Shouzhu and knelt before him.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for taking us in. Thank you for giving us the chance to know him."
Ye Shouzhu reached out and helped her to her feet.
"Don't thank me," he said. "He was the lucky one, to have known you."
## Chapter Nine: The First Five Years
Su Ruoping opened a small food stall in town.
She was up every morning at four, preparing ingredients. The food she made was simple, but it was good. She had regular customers before long. People came not only because the food was good, but because of the look on her face when she cooked—a deep, quiet concentration that made you feel cared for.
Su Wan opened a small herb shop beside the stall. She used what she had learned to treat the minor ailments of the townspeople. She was skilled, and many people came to her.
The two sisters lived this way. Not wealthy, but not hungry.
Five years passed.
Ye Shouzhu sat at the edge of the ruins for all five of them. He didn't rebuild the hall, didn't leave—he just sat there, day after day, looking at what remained. He came every day, sat, and looked.
Sometimes Su Ruoping would come to see him and bring him something to eat. She would sit beside him and keep him company. They didn't speak. They just sat.
In the fifth winter, Ye Shouzhu fell ill.
His health had never been strong, and five years of grief had worn him down further. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his eyes empty.
Su Ruoping and Su Wan took turns caring for him. Su Ruoping made him plain rice porridge; Su Wan prepared herbal remedies. But they both knew nothing could save him. He had run out of reasons to stay alive.
Ye Shouzhu died on a snowy night.
Su Ruoping was sitting at his bedside when he went. He held her hand and spoke his last words:
"Take care of yourself," he said. "He'll be watching over you from the other side."
Su Ruoping wept. She was twenty-eight years old.
## Chapter Ten: Holding Up the Sky Alone
After Ye Shouzhu died, Su Ruoping grew quieter.
She worked the food stall every day, morning to night—cooking, serving customers, cleaning up. Her movements were quick and efficient, but her eyes were empty.
Su Wan watched her sister and felt a heaviness in her chest. She knew what her sister was carrying. It was a grief too deep for words.
One day Su Wan asked her: "Sister, are you all right?"
Su Ruoping stopped and looked at her. There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.
"I'm fine," she said. "As long as you're here, I'm fine."
She reached out and touched Su Wan's hair.
"Wan'er," she said, "you have to keep living. Whatever happens, you have to stay alive."
Su Wan nodded, but she didn't understand why her sister would say something like that.
## Chapter Eleven: The Second Five Years
Another five years.
Su Ruoping was thirty-three. Lines had appeared on her face; her hands were rougher than ever. She was still at the food stall, still feeding the people of the town with her cooking.
Su Wan was twenty-eight. She was still in the herb shop, still helping people with what she knew.
But in the spring of the tenth year, Su Wan fell ill.
She began to cough, began to run a fever. Su Ruoping took her to a doctor, but the doctor shook his head. The illness, he said, was very difficult to treat.
Su Wan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her face had gone pale; her body had grown thin.
Su Ruoping sat at her bedside, holding her hand. She made her rice porridge, prepared herbal remedies, told her stories—stories about their mother, about Ye Changfeng, about their years at the hall.
Su Wan listened, tears pooling in her eyes.
"Sister," she said, her voice barely there, "I'm scared."
"Don't be scared," Su Ruoping said. "I'm right here."
"If I go, what will you do?"
Su Ruoping didn't answer. She just held Su Wan's hand, held it tight.
Su Wan died on a rainy night.
Su Ruoping was sitting at her bedside when she went. Su Wan held her sister's hand and spoke her last words:
"Sister, in the next life I want to be your little sister again."
Su Ruoping wept. She held Su Wan's body and cried out loud, as if she were trying to cry out ten years of grief all at once.
## Chapter Twelve: A Road Walked Alone
After Su Wan died, Su Ruoping was truly alone.
She still cooked at the food stall, but the food she made grew simpler. She stopped smiling at customers. She moved through each dish mechanically. Her eyes were empty, as if the person behind them had gone somewhere else.
People asked her: "Ruoping, are you all right?"
She said: "I'm fine."
No one believed her.
She began going to the ruins of the hall often. She would sit there and look at the charred roots of the banyan tree. Sometimes she stayed all day, not speaking, just sitting.
Sometimes she cried. Sometimes she smiled. Sometimes she did nothing at all, just sat.
The townspeople began to worry. They said Su Ruoping had lost her mind. She had lost too much. She couldn't bear it anymore.
But Su Ruoping hadn't lost her mind. She was waiting. For what, she couldn't have said herself.
Maybe she was waiting for death. Maybe for rebirth. Maybe she was waiting for the chance, in some other world, to see again the people she had lost.
## Chapter Thirteen: The Last Dream
Another five years.
Su Ruoping was thirty-eight. Her body had grown very weak. She coughed every day, bled every day. She knew she didn't have long.
The five-year curse had not spared anyone. Five years after Ye Changfeng died, Ye Shouzhu was gone. Five years after that, Su Wan was gone. Now another five years had passed, and it was her turn.
In the last winter of her life, she decided to go back to the ruins of the hall.
She walked there and sat down on the charred roots of the banyan tree. The sky was heavy and gray, threatening snow. The wind moved across her face. It was cold.
She closed her eyes.
A dream appeared before her.
She saw Ye Changfeng, standing in the courtyard, dressed in plain cloth, a wooden staff in his hand. He was looking at her, his expression gentle.
"You're here," he said.
"I'm here," Su Ruoping said.
She stood and walked toward him. Her body no longer hurt. Her heart was no longer heavy. She walked into his arms, and it felt like coming home.
"I've waited so long for you," she said.
"I know," Ye Changfeng said. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Su Ruoping said. "I was lucky. Lucky to have known you."
She rested in his arms and slowly closed her eyes.
Su Ruoping died that winter evening.
When people found her, she was sitting on the banyan roots, a faint smile on her face. Her hands rested on her knees, as if she had been waiting for something.
Her eyes were closed. Her face held no pain—only stillness.
## Chapter Fourteen: Waking
Ye Chen woke before dawn.
He sat up in bed, tears running down his face. Something inside him was beyond naming—grief, regret, and a deep, quiet understanding.
He understood now.
He understood why Liu Ruoping was so silent, so strong, so accustomed to carrying everything alone. Because in her previous life, she had already lived that way. She had lost her father, her mother, Ye Changfeng, Ye Shouzhu, Su Wan. She had lived alone, cooked alone, cared for others alone, and borne a grief that had no words.
That habit had crossed a hundred years and arrived in this life.
He understood why Liu Ruoping loved him the way she did. Because in her previous life, she had already fallen in love with Ye Changfeng. That love had not dissolved with his death—it had deepened through the passage of time. It had crossed death and time and arrived in this life, and it had landed on him.
He understood why he loved her the way he did. Because in his previous life, he had already loved her. He had watched her busy herself in the kitchen, watched her tend to everyone around her with quiet care, watched her say beneath the moonlight, *If there's another life, I hope we can be together properly.* That love had also crossed time and arrived here.
He understood the five-year curse.
In the previous life, Ye Changfeng died, and five years later Ye Shouzhu was gone, and five years after that Su Wan was gone, and five years after that Su Ruoping followed. Every five years, it took someone. Not one was spared. In this life, Liu Ruoping's mother died suddenly when she was twenty. Five years later, she began to miscarry repeatedly. Five years after that, her body began to deteriorate rapidly. The curse seemed carved into her soul—no matter how she ran, she could not escape it.
He looked at Liu Ruoping sleeping beside him, and the tears came faster.
He thought of her last message: *I really do love you.*
That was not only the love of this life. It was a love that had crossed a hundred years. It was Su Ruoping's love for Ye Changfeng. It was Liu Ruoping's love for Ye Chen. It was a love that could not be changed, could not be escaped, could not be let go.
Ye Chen eased himself out of bed and walked to the balcony. The city was still asleep. Distant high-rises drifted in and out of the morning haze. He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke unravel in the air.
He thought of what Su Ruoping had said in the dream: *If there's another life, I hope we can be together properly.*
They had done it. They had been together properly in this life. They had gotten married, bought a home, adopted Yuanbao, had children. They had traveled the island together, gone to Korea together, wandered night markets in the south until the sky turned light.
But had they truly been together *properly*?
Ye Chen thought about all the days he hadn't been there for her, all the days he hadn't really listened, all the days he hadn't held her close enough. He thought about how, when her body failed her, all he could do was drive her from doctor to doctor, be someone she could take her frustration out on, run her a hot bath to ease the pain. He thought about how she had tried to give him children, again and again, and lost them, and all he could do was stand beside her and watch, helpless.
He had not protected her.
Just as Ye Changfeng, in the previous life, had not been able to protect Su Ruoping.
Ye Chen went back to the bedroom and looked at Liu Ruoping, still asleep. Her face was pale in the early light, her breathing soft. She looked fragile—as if a strong wind could knock her over.
He lay down gently beside her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He pressed his face into her hair and breathed in the familiar scent of her.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you better."
Liu Ruoping stirred in her sleep. She shifted closer. Her hand found his and held it tight.
Ye Chen closed his eyes.
Maybe in the next life, he thought, he would finally be able to do it. Maybe in the next life he could protect her, spare her the suffering. Maybe in the next life they would finally live the life that the previous one never allowed.
But in this life, he would cherish every moment that remained.
Because he knew now—time runs out.
## Epilogue: What the Past Carried, This Life Kept
Ye Chen began to change.
He started getting up early. He stopped staying late at work. He went with Liu Ruoping to her appointments instead of just driving her there. He listened when she talked instead of just giving her somewhere to put her frustration. He held her—not only when she needed it, but because he wanted to.
Liu Ruoping watched him change. Her eyes held a question, but more than that, they held warmth.
"What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"Nothing," Ye Chen said. "I just want to be here with you."
Liu Ruoping leaned her head against his shoulder and didn't ask again.
One day they were in the kitchen. Liu Ruoping was cooking, and Ye Chen stood in the doorway watching her. She had her apron on, her hair pulled back, moving quickly in front of the stove. She hadn't noticed him. She was focused entirely on what her hands were doing.
Ye Chen watched her and thought of Su Ruoping in the dream. The same posture. The same eyes. The same way of caring for the people around her.
He walked over and put his arms around her from behind.
"What is it?" she asked, a smile in her voice.
"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted to hold you."
She leaned back into him and kept cooking. The vegetables sizzled in the pan. The smell of oil drifted through the air. The kitchen was warm.
Ye Chen closed his eyes and let himself feel it—this moment, exactly as it was.
He knew that whether it was the previous life or this one, he would always stand beside her. Because some love crosses time. Some bonds cross death.
The words they hadn't finished saying in the previous life—they finished them in this one.
The road they hadn't finished walking in the previous life—they walked it in this one.
What the past carried, this life kept.
They had finally, in this life, lived the life the previous one never got to live.
That love—born in the ruins of a martial hall at the end of the Qing dynasty—had traveled a hundred years, and arrived here: in a modern kitchen, in her smile, in the moment every time he came home and saw her face.
**End**