As if annoyed by his gaze, a peach blossom branch suddenly broke off and fell, landing right on his head before sliding down the back of his head and into the basket on his back.

"Ah."

Yu Zhen raised a hand to his head and turned to look at the basket, but unfortunately, his view was limited, and he could only see a corner of his cotton-padded coat's hood.

The branch was growing perfectly fine, why would it suddenly fall?

Feeling increasingly bewildered, he turned around, took off the basket, and bent down to pick up the flowering peach branch lying on the firewood inside. He looked up at the peach tree again, trying to find which branch had broken, but all he saw was a canopy of bare branches.

The north wind blew past, bringing a chill.

Yu Zhen stood under the bare peach tree, clutching the flowering branch, his eyes wide in stupefaction.

The flowers... where were the flowers?

He looked down at the branch in his hand, then back up at the bare peach tree. His sharp eyes noticed that a branch at the very top of the tree was abruptly broken off. A shiver went down his spine, and all sorts of supernatural speculations popped into his head. He swallowed drily, not daring to stay any longer. He grabbed his basket and ran towards the path down the mountain.

After just a few days of peace, Yu Zhen started dreaming again.

He still couldn't remember the content of his dreams, and his mind grew foggier by the day. What was worse, the problem of his cold limbs, which had disappeared for a while, returned along with the dreams.

On another sunny day, he sat on the high threshold of the temple gate with huge dark circles under his eyes, taking a bite of a steamed bun with pickles. He chewed a few times without tasting the food, his gaze unconsciously shifting to the peach branch on the ground outside the gate, which was still blooming brilliantly. His throat tightened, and he lost his appetite.

It had been almost a week, and this strange peach branch remained in full, glorious bloom. The flowers on it neither withered nor wilted, their delicate pinkness a cheerful sight, making the increasingly haggard him look like a piece of rotten wood in comparison.

It was too strange.

He placed the bun on the low stool behind the door, stood up, and picked up the branch. He plucked off a petal and pinched it, and abundant floral juice stained his entire hand.

How could a normal flower petal be squeezed for so much juice?

His thoughts turned sluggishly. The fragrance of the flowers filled the air, and the scent awakened his taste buds. Acting on a strange impulse, he licked the juice-covered hand, and a sweet taste spread, instantly clearing his muddled mind.

Huh?

He froze, his consciousness awakening as if from a deep dream. He looked at his hand in disbelief, then at the peach branch, which suddenly looked exceptionally delicious. He frantically threw the branch away and wiped his hands furiously.

What was going on? He actually found the peach blossom juice delicious and even had the bizarre illusion that the branch might be chocolate-flavored.

Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong somewhere.

"Xiao Zhen, there are some things in this world that don't cease to exist just because you don't believe in them. You'll understand when Grandpa is gone one day."

"You must carry this Peace Bead with you at all times. Don't lose it, understand?"

His grandfather's nagging words suddenly flashed through his mind. His hand-wiping motions stopped, and his heart began to beat faster and faster.

It seemed that the problems of cold limbs, a muddled head, insomnia, and frequent dreams had all started after he burned the Peace Bead. The recent auditory and visual hallucinations also couldn't be explained by scientific theories.

The doctor had said his check-up report showed his body was perfectly fine.

The flower branch on the ground bloomed brilliantly on its own. The sweet taste on his tongue had yet to dissipate. He clenched his hands, feeling the temperature of his icy fingertips slowly return as the sweetness spread. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

'It's over,' he told himself. 'The punishment for not listening to Grandpa is here.'

A low-key black luxury car drove along the uneven dirt road, its speed so slow it was a complete disservice to its performance.

"Uncle Weng, please drive a little slower. My brother's body hasn't recovered yet, he can't handle the bumps."

Yin Le reminded him for the fifth time, making Weng Xiping in the driver's seat look completely helpless.

"Young Master, any slower and the car will stall."

Yin Le glanced at the slowly receding scenery outside the window, realized he had been foolish again, and gave a dry laugh to hide his embarrassment. He looked through the rearview mirror at Yin Yan, who was sitting alone in the back seat, and shifted uncomfortably in his own seat.

He was supposed to be sitting in the back too, but... but his older brother had been too quiet lately, which made him act strange as well. He always felt that his brother now carried a bit of an "otherworldly," "immortal" air, making him feel that approaching casually was a kind of offense.

And he didn't know if it was his imagination, but not only had his brother's personality changed a lot after losing a great deal of weight from the car accident, but even his appearance seemed a little different from before.

His features were still the same, but the color of his eyes and hair grew darker by the day. His lip color also changed from an unhealthy dark red at the beginning to a paler shade that was strangely alluring.

Perhaps because he was thinner, his features looked more defined, his skin had improved, and he even seemed a tiny bit taller than before.

This didn't look like someone recovering from a serious injury at all; it was more like he'd gone abroad for a round of plastic surgery.

In the rearview mirror, Yin Yan, who had been looking out the window, suddenly retracted his gaze and looked over.

The two brothers' eyes met in the rearview mirror. Yin Le was taken aback and quickly looked away.

"What's wrong?"

Yin Yan's expression didn't change. He raised a hand to touch his own face and asked, "Am I hideously pale right now, without a trace of color in my face?"

His pale, slender fingers rested on his face, the knuckles well-defined. Though it was a very pleasing sight, Yin Le suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

"No, no, you're as handsome as ever, big brother."

He shook his head forcefully, feeling like he had been bewitched just now. Of course, one's features would look more defined after losing weight. His skin had become pale from being cooped up in the hospital after a major illness, which naturally made his hair and eye color seem darker.

Eating nutritious meals every day and being forced to lie in bed all day long, it would be strange if his skin didn't improve with such recuperation.

As for his height, his brother used to slouch, so he didn't appear tall. Now, because of the doctor's orders, he always kept his back straight, so naturally, he looked taller than before.

What plastic surgery? This was his own brother. His handsomeness was in his genes; what was the need for plastic surgery?

Shaking the messy thoughts from his mind, the sense of distance Yin Le felt inexplicably vanished. He simply turned around, propped his hands on the seat, and openly sized up his brother again, praising him happily, "Mom really has good taste. This new coat looks so handsome on you, way better than those jackets you used to buy."

Yin Yan cooperatively gathered the collar of his long, dark coat but said nothing.

Yin Le's gaze followed his movement down to his hands, then moved back up and settled on his hair, which had grown much longer. Although he felt that the soft black hair falling casually looked better than the hairstyle his brother used to deliberately get, he remembered his brother's preferences and said flatteringly, "Bro, should you get a haircut? When we get back to B City, how about we go get our hair cut together?"

"Sit tight, Young Master, we're going uphill."

Weng Xiping interrupted the friendly exchange between the brothers. Yin Yan didn't agree to Yin Le's request, only adding an instruction, "Sit properly."

"Oh."

Yin Le responded and obediently turned around and sat properly, even adjusting his seatbelt, acting uncharacteristically well-behaved.

The slope wasn't long, and they soon reached the top smoothly. A dirt road, even narrower than before, appeared ahead.

"Go straight."

Yin Yan spoke, slightly adjusting his posture.

Yin Le felt like he might be bewitched again. He actually had the illusion that his brother was very nervous right now, even though his brother's face was still expressionless, looking impossibly calm and composed.

The dirt road was somewhat winding. The deeper they went, the denser the forest became and the narrower the road.

When an area with broken trees appeared on the side of the road, Yin Le's gaze fixed on it, the cheerful expression gone from his face as he pressed his lips tightly together.

Weng Xiping also glanced over, then stepped on the gas and sped past the area.

The Taoist Temple was already in sight. Yin Yan didn't even glance at the accident scene, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The reflection of the temple was in his dark pupils, and nothing else.

The car stopped beside the temple gate, politely not blocking the entrance.

Yin Le had never seen such a dilapidated gate or such a rundown house in his life. His gaze swept over the aging cracks in the courtyard gate and the simple tiled roof of the building inside. His little heart trembled, and he suddenly felt a bit unnerved.

In his imagination, the future sister-in-law who had saved his brother was a pretty girl with a simple and warm temperament. Her home, though simple, would have a field of flowers in front and a clear spring behind, untouched by worldly matters, filled with an agile and natural aura.

He felt that only such a girl was worthy of his brother, one who could make his brother, heartbroken by Han Ya, see the error of his ways, fall in love at first sight, and understand that the true meaning of love is warmth and redemption, not deceitful lies and endless, desperate waiting.

"Young Master, daydreaming is a disease that needs to be cured. Didn't the police say that the person who saved the Eldest Young Master was a young man living in a Taoist Temple? Clear springs and flower fields? You should watch fewer idol dramas and read more books."

Weng Xiping mercilessly shattered Yin Le's fantasy as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car.

Yin Le came back to his senses, only then realizing he had unconsciously spoken his embarrassing daydreams aloud. His face flushed red, and he hurriedly turned to the back seat to explain, only to find it empty. His brother, who had become exceptionally calm after the accident, was long gone.

Huh? Where'd he go? Didn't the car just stop?

He turned sideways in a daze and then saw his brother's figure, so handsome it made one's legs go weak, at the entrance of the Taoist Temple.

Inside the temple.

Yu Zhen sat at the old wooden table, tightened his grip with his icy fingers, and pursed his completely numb lips. He lowered his eyes to the bowl of steaming Peach Blossom Congee, took a deep breath, raised his hand, and touched the rim of the bowl.

There was no more time or energy to think about those strange things. If he kept getting colder, he suspected he would freeze to death.

Knock, knock, knock.

His fingers, which had just touched the rim of the bowl, paused. He blinked in confusion and shook his head.

'Why is there a knocking sound? Am I having auditory hallucinations again?'

Knock, knock-knock.

The fragrance of the Peach Blossom Congee wafted up, and his frozen thoughts began to stir.

He was dazed for a few seconds before finally realizing that the knocking was coming from the courtyard gate, not a hallucination. He quickly stood up, casually ran his fingers through his unkempt morning hair, tugged at his bulky cotton-padded coat, and turned to walk briskly towards the temple gate.

How strange. This little Taoist Temple, which usually didn't see a visitor for years, actually had someone knocking today. The sun must be rising from the west.

"Coming, coming, just a moment."

He raised his voice to answer, lest the guest get impatient, his hand already on the brass ring on the door.

A faint, cool scent seeped through the crack of the door and into his nose. His movement to pull the door open paused. Stimulated by this strange scent, a possibility suddenly occurred to him.

Too many strange things had been happening lately. It was easy for things to go wrong in the deep mountains and dense forests. Could the one knocking at the door right now not be a person, but...

Knock.

Another light knock came from the slightly ajar door panel. Then, a slender, pale hand reached through the crack, grasped the door, and gently pushed it open with slow force.

The other party's strength wasn't great, but Yu Zhen had no power to resist, or rather, he had completely lost the will to resist at this moment.

He stared at the pale hand on the door, and memories of the reanimated corpse from the night of the accident quickly flooded back. He subconsciously took a step back, his eyes widening and his teeth beginning to chatter as he stared in terror at the gradually opening door.