Long-Awaited Reunion
The Shangqing Sword Sect perched atop a towering mountain, seemingly without a single guard at the gates. Xing Chushuang handed Li Ye off to a little girl and nodded at her. "Take him to the guest quarters to rest."
"Who's this guy?" The girl looked about ten, carved from pink jade and utterly adorable, brimming with lively energy.
Xing Chushuang ignored her and strode away. The girl scrunched up her face in annoyance, sticking her tongue out at her senior sister's retreating back. "Stinky sis."
She turned back to Li Ye with wide-eyed curiosity. "I'm Su Kekeke. What's your name?"
"Li Ye." He flashed her a friendly smile.
Su Kekeke bounced along ahead, leading him toward the guest quarters. "Sis has never brought anyone back before. What's your deal with her?"
"I only met your sis today for the first time."
Su Kekeke tilted her head, eyeing him suspiciously. "Then why'd she bring you here herself?"
Li Ye shrugged. "Beats me. Go ask her."
"Hmph, no way I'm asking her." Su Kekeke wrinkled her nose, trying her best to look disdainful.
Li Ye found the girl utterly charming and itched to pat her head, but years of caution in the palace warned him against it. He held back, smiling as he probed for info. "You ever heard of silk stockings?"
"Silk stockings? What's that?" Su Kekeke blinked in total confusion.
"Nothing, just a type of clothing." Seeing her blank stare, Li Ye figured even within the sect, few knew about it—probably best not to push his luck and risk some taboo.
They reached a serene courtyard, and Su Kekeke clapped her hands. "Here we are!"
"Thanks a bunch." Li Ye glanced around: beautiful surroundings, peaceful and pleasant, a far cry from his palace digs.
Su Kekeke checked the sky. "Guess I'll head out then. Don't wander off, okay?" She waved a tiny hand and skipped away.
Li Ye watched the little one scamper off, still clueless about what came next. After half a day's trek, fatigue hit hard, and with dusk falling, he shrugged—might as well make the best of it. He stepped inside to tidy up and crash.
As Li Ye fluffed the bedding, he didn't notice that mere moments after the girl left, a woman in flowing white palace robes descended silently at the courtyard gate. Her expression mixed anticipation and unease. She lingered, drew a soft breath, schooled her features to cool detachment, then stepped through the gate.
She glided from the entrance to the hall and into the bedroom doorway. Spotting the figure arranging the bedding, her steps faltered. Her gaze sharpened, and incredulous joy and doubt bloomed across her once-impassive face.
Her vermilion lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came. She swallowed hard, her hoarse voice laced with disbelief. "Xiao... Ye?"
That voice—familiar yet distant—jolted Li Ye. He whipped around to face a figure beyond his wildest dreams. Younger, dressed differently, five years on... but he knew her instantly, the one who haunted his dreams.
Tears streamed silently down his cheeks, a torrent of disbelieving rapture and pent-up grievance. His voice broke. "Mom?"
The moment he turned, the woman's face crumpled in tears. Hearing his tentative call shattered her restraint. She rushed forward, enfolding him in a fierce embrace, sobbing. "Xiao Ye~~"
It's real. It's really Mom... The familiar hug erased his doubts. Grievances erupted like a flood. Tears gushed as he clung to her, choking out, "Mom~~"
Across worlds, mother and son reunited, lost to heaving sobs in each other's arms.
The woman was Shen Luhua, Li Ye's mother from his previous life. His father had died young; she'd raised him alone. On a self-driving trip, a crash hurled him here—or so he'd thought she'd perished.
Li Ye had assumed her gone forever. Now, reunited, he wasn't alone in this world. How could he not grieve? How not rejoice?
For five years, no restful sleep. In her warm embrace, he unleashed it all and drifted into deep slumber.
Shen Luhua felt him go limp against her, her heart aching. She held him longer, then laid him on the bed. Staring at his sleeping face, she wept, laughed, reached to caress the features she'd dreamed of endlessly—then pulled back, lest she wake him. Like a madwoman adrift...
...
Li Ye slept like the dead, dreaming of his mother, of reuniting in this alien world. Heh, as if. He chuckled wryly, blinking awake.
And there she was, her stunning face gazing at him with concern.
"Xiao Ye, awake?"
That voice yanked him back—no dream. He grinned dopily. "Yeah."
His goofy smile drew an incongruously maternal warmth to her refined features. "I'll fetch you some food."
Instinctively, Li Ye grabbed her hand. "Mom, don't go."
She froze, nose stinging, fresh tears falling. "Okay, Mom's not going anywhere."
"Mm." A thousand questions swirled, but he craved only this quiet bliss.
Shen Luhua wiped her eyes, teasing through a sniffle. "You're nearly thirty—still acting like a kid."
"Thirty?" Li Ye jolted upright, warmth shattering. He'd crossed at twelve, now seventeen. Where'd thirty come from?
Illusion? Heart demon? Why would the sect bother with a third-realm eunuch scrub like me? Or... transmigrator secret out?
He released her hand, wariness creeping in.
Shen Luhua caught his guarded look—shock, pity, confusion. She clasped his retreating hand. "Fifteen years since crossing here. Aren't you twenty-seven?"
Timelines didn't match; he stayed alert. "This... isn't some illusion, is it?"
She pffted a laugh. "At one, you refused photos without a toy. At three, you wet the bed, hid the sheets in the closet. At five, you stole a kiss from that little girl..."
She rambled on—some he recalled, some fuzzy. He believed her ninety percent, his tone turning petulant. "Okay, okay, enough. An illusion tailored to my memories would know all that."
Seeing his pout, she knew he'd caved but played along with indulgent mirth. "Fine, something you don't know. Before the crash, I was about to teach arithmetic sequences. Know the formula?"
A math teacher back home, she'd tutored him endlessly. Nostalgia hit; he shook his head meekly. "Nope."
She beamed. "An = A1 + (n-1)d, where d is the common difference. Check it."
He plugged in numbers mentally—spot on. Amazed, "How?"
Slipping into teacher mode, she derived it step by step. Mother and son lost in the lesson, reliving old times—until reality intruded. They shared a knowing smile and fell silent.
"Right, you said fifteen years—what's up with that?" Li Ye circled back.
Shen Luhua blinked, surprised. "After the crash, I crossed here—fifteen years ago. You too?"
"Crash for me too, but only five years." He frowned.
She pondered, brow furrowed. "Know how we crossed?"
He shook his head, the mystery dawning.
"Remember that wooden hairpin you gave me? The cheap market one."
"Vaguely."
"It's one of this world's supreme treasures: the Yin Jie Jian."
"Yin Jie Jian?" Li Ye startled, voice too loud, tensing up.
No wonder. With the Li Yang Yin, they were this realm's primordial treasures—yin and yang incarnate, birthing all creation. One death, one life. Legends only.
Seeing his nerves, Shen Luhua chuckled softly. "Relax—no one here can hear us."
He exhaled. "Go on."
"I only learned after arriving. When the truck hit, death qi—or maybe instinct—activated it. It tore space, brought me here. You must've caught the spatial ripple."
Li Ye furrowed his brow. "Before blacking out, I glimpsed you vanishing for a split second. Thought it was a hallucination."
"That instant's delay cost you ten years. Time's mysteries... who knows." She shook her head gently.
"Maybe..." With the crossing explained, he sighed. "How've you been?"
She smiled. "Woke up here in the sect. The sect leader found me in woods outside the capital, mistook my Yin Jie Jian-remade physique for the legendary yin spirit sword body. Focused on cultivation, aiming for ninth realm to return via the sword. Missed you most, but otherwise fine. Saw silk stockings, qipaos, bustiers trending in the palace on the Da Zhou gazette—figured modern influence. Sent Chushuang to check, snag the inventor. Didn't expect you." Her face lit up.
"If not for that, who knows when we'd reunite." Li Ye sighed. Mom in the same woods, just a decade earlier. His survival ploy became their bridge.
She laughed. "Thought some vain woman cooked that up. Turns out my little pervert."
"Little pervert" stung; he masked the pain quick. Lost in reminiscence, she pressed on. "You always loved stroking my stockings. Even here, you can't let it go—born lech."
Lech? Li Ye forced a bitter smile inwardly. What choice did he have?
Twelve-year-old nobody in the palace harem—flatter women or die. He'd given his all.
Noticing his shift, Shen Luhua panicked. "Xiao Ye, I didn't mean... just joking..."
He forced a smile. "I know."
His strained grin hit her—she knew nothing of his five years. He'd crossed at twelve. "And you? These five years?"
Silence, then a wry grin. "Chushuang didn't tell you? Lived in the palace."
"She just said she had you—I rushed over. The palace? How..." Her face darkened to iron.
Meeting her icy glare, he nodded softly.
"Yeah. I'm a eunuch now."