The end of the year was approaching, and Yu Zhen decided to return to his hometown for the New Year and take a temporary break.

He terminated the lease on the two-bedroom apartment he had only recently rented, then went to the nursery to transfer all his flowers to someone in the same trade and ended his lease there as well. With his meager savings and luggage, Yu Zhen hired a taxi and returned to the Taoist Temple overnight.

The snow from that night had vanished without a trace. White paper from the funeral was still scattered on the temple grounds. By the dim, yellow light of the small lightbulb, Yu Zhen started the stove, boiled a pot of hot water, and began to clean.

The Taoist Temple was small, but it had everything it needed. By the time Yu Zhen had cleaned the entire temple, inside and out, top to bottom, dawn was already breaking on the horizon.

He was sweating profusely from exhaustion. Despite not having slept all night, he felt incredibly energetic. The coldness that had been troubling him for some time had disappeared without a trace, and his limbs felt so light it was unreal, as if he could jump on the spot and fly.

"Grandpa, are you watching over me?"

He muttered with a smile, hung the rag on the rim of the bucket, and stared up at Grandpa's memorial portrait, lost in thought for a moment. Then he shook his head, bent down to pick up the bucket, and went around to the backyard.

Grandpa Yu had been very careless about food and clothing. He had worn the same two Daoist robes, mended and patched, for decades. A steamer of buns could last him half a month. He slept on a wooden plank bed with an old cotton quilt and, except for winter, bathed in cold water for three seasons of the year.

Moreover, he was extremely stubborn, unwilling to move a single brick or tile in the Taoist Temple, almost obstinately maintaining the temple's "pristine" state.

After Yu Zhen started making money, he had wanted to help Grandpa renovate the temple. Not major changes, just rewiring the electricity, fixing up the kitchen, and installing an electric water heater to make the old man's life more comfortable.

But Grandpa wouldn't have it and had almost disowned him over the matter.

Remembering the past, Yu Zhen zoned out a little again. He didn't snap back to reality until the firewood in the stove let out a soft crackle. Seeing that the water in the pot was boiling, he quickly put down the dry firewood he was about to add, got up, and brought over the large wooden tub used for bathing, then began to fill it with hot water.

There was no water heater, no bathroom heater lamp, no proper bathroom. The kitchen door was even drafty, but soaking in the tub, Yu Zhen didn't feel cold at all.

He suddenly understood his grandfather's stubbornness a little. In this small Taoist Temple, practically isolated from the world, life was a bit hard, but satisfaction was very easy to obtain.

Just a hot bath after a night of hard work in the winter, and he already felt he was very happy.

After his bath, his body completely relaxed. He went to the small vegetable patch in the backyard, casually picked a handful of greens, and returned to the kitchen to make himself a bowl of vegetable noodles.

After filling his stomach, he finally felt a little sleepy. Not caring whether it was appropriate to sleep in broad daylight or if he would suffer from insomnia at night, he followed his heart's desire. Yawning, he went to the room he had shared with his grandfather, made the bed, and crawled in. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, smelling the lingering scent of incense and candles in the air.

At the hospital, Yin Yan opened his eyes, which were perfectly clear, not at all like someone who had just woken up. Staring at a point in the void, his fingers twitched slightly. "Go. In return for borrowing your body, I have accepted your requests."

A wisp of clear wind lingered, swirling reluctantly by the window. It wasn't until the hospital room door was pushed open, and a middle-aged couple and a young boy appeared behind it, that "he" rustled the curtain and dissipated into the world.

Yin Le thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He had actually seen the curtain move without any wind, and for some reason, he felt an urge to cry.

"Xiao Yan!"

The short-haired woman in smart attire walked quickly to the hospital bed. Usually strong and not one to cry, she suddenly lost control of her tears. She sat on the edge of the bed and held her eldest son's pale, thin hand. Her expression was relatively calm, but her tears wouldn't stop.

She felt a bit strange, but seeing her younger son and husband also crying uncontrollably, she attributed this odd feeling to a mother's instinct.

No matter how strong a woman was, it was hard not to lose control of her emotions upon seeing her son who had just walked through the gates of hell and back.

No one spoke. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crying of the family of three.

Yin Yan's gaze shifted, sweeping over the three of them one by one. Their original fates appeared before his eyes—the eldest son dies, the mother blames herself and falls ill from excessive grief, the father becomes enraged and pained, seeking revenge at all costs on the woman who caused his son's death. Ultimately, the family falls into decline, the mother dies young, the father is imprisoned, and the younger son suffers from depression for the rest of his life.

He furrowed his brows and lowered his eyes, suppressing his discomfort as he squeezed the mother's hand in return. Then he sat up and said in a low voice, "I'm fine."

His voice wasn't loud, but the three crying people instantly fell silent. It felt as if the words had struck them directly in the heart, slowly dispelling all the panic and lingering fear within them.

The crying gradually subsided. Chou Feiqian was the first to compose herself and wipe away her tears. She leaned over to tuck in the blanket for her son, who was weakly leaning against the bed, and said in a tone that brooked no refusal, "It's been so long since your accident, yet no one from the Han Family has come to give our Yin Family an explanation. Han Ya, who was only lightly injured, hasn't even shown her face. Xiao Yan, no matter how you try to persuade me this time, Mom is going to teach the Han Family a lesson!"

"Feiqian," Yin Hexiang called out to his wife, worried her words would agitate their son who was still seriously injured.

Everyone in their circle knew that the Yin Family's eldest young master, Yin Yan, was hopelessly in unrequited love with the Han Family's only daughter, Han Ya, and that he had almost no bottom line or principles when it came to her. But Han Ya's heart was entirely set on the Wu Family's only son, Wu Xuan. She was just stringing Yin Yan along as a backup.

As his parents, they had tried to persuade, scold, and even hit their eldest son over this matter, but it was all useless. It was as if Han Ya had fed Yin Yan a bewitching potion; he was dead set on being her backup, wouldn't let anyone say a bad word about her, and, because he loved her, he treated the Han Family with great favor as well.

Though helpless and heartbroken, they could only compromise in the face of their single-minded child.

"It's no use calling my name!"

Having almost experienced the pain of losing a son, Chou Feiqian was no longer willing to compromise. She said hatefully, "I only have these two sons. This time, Han Ya nearly cost Xiao Yan his life. What about next time? If this continues, Xiao Yan will sooner or later end up in Han Ya's hands! I'm putting my foot down right here today. Anyone in this world can marry into my Yin Family, even a dog or a cat, but not her, Han Ya!"

She was truly enraged, scared, and panicked, and her words became increasingly final.

"Xiao Yan, don't blame me for being autocratic. If you're still going to be single-mindedly devoted to that Han Ya in the future, then I'd rather not have you as a son! And don't you ever call me 'Mom' again!"

The Yin Family's atmosphere had always been harmonious. Although Chou Feiqian had a sharp tongue but a soft heart, she had never said such harsh words to her two sons before.

Yin Hexiang was shocked to hear this. Fearing his wife would anger herself into illness, and even more afraid of agitating his eldest son into a relapse, he quickly stepped forward to support her shoulders. He was about to try and persuade her when Yin Yan, who had been silent all this time, spoke first.

"Mother." His tone was slightly stiff, his voice calm and cold, yet it strangely carried a hint of comfort. "We have a guest."

His cool voice was like a gentle breeze brushing against their cheeks. The anger that had rushed to Chou Feiqian's head dissipated like smoke. She turned to look at the wide-open door of the hospital room.

Han Ya, who had been about to leave quietly, froze in her steps. She vaguely felt that Yin Yan's voice sounded a little different from before, but the thought was fleeting. She bit her lip, remembering what Yin Yan's mother had just said, and felt both humiliated and wronged.

She hadn't wanted the car accident to happen either. Although the accident was caused by her grabbing the steering wheel while drunk, was Yin Yan completely without fault?

Yin Yan had saved her, and she was grateful, but his mother shouldn't have spoken to her like that. She had her pride too.

"Who's out there?"

Chou Feiqian was not a patient person. Seeing that there was indeed a figure in the hallway but that no one was coming in, she couldn't help but raise her voice and ask.

The figure in the hallway moved, and then Han Ya's tall, slender figure appeared at the door.

She didn't enter, just stood outside the door with red-rimmed eyes, looking at Yin Yan who was sitting up in bed, and called out softly, "Yan..."

The fire that had just subsided in Chou Feiqian's heart flared up again. She took a few steps to the doorway, raised her hand, and slapped her hard across the face, shouting angrily, "You're not worthy of calling my son's name! Let me tell you, Han Ya, from now on, when you and that Wu Xuan fight and you want to drink or kill yourself, find a quiet place to do it yourself. Don't come bothering my son! Get out! You're not welcome here!"

No one had expected that slap. Han Ya was completely stunned, covering her face and looking at the hateful expression on Chou Feiqian's face in disbelief. Her shoulders trembled, and her beautiful almond eyes filled with tears as she once again looked towards Yin Yan on the hospital bed.

"'I' forgive you."

Yin Yan spoke as she looked over, his tone calm.

Han Ya's face lit up with joy, while Chou Feiqian's mind went blank. She turned to look at him, feeling both disappointed and heartbroken, and cried out painfully, "Xiao Yan!"

"What is owed in this life must be repaid in the next, piece by piece." Yin Yan shifted his gaze away. His pale, slender fingers intertwined on his abdomen. His profile was bathed in the morning sunlight, and whether it was an illusion or not, his normally light-colored pupils suddenly turned as black as night, drawing one's gaze to probe them again and again.

"Go. Don't appear before the Yin Family again. They will be unhappy."

Yin Hexiang was greatly surprised, never expecting his eldest son to say such words.

Yin Le, however, suddenly remembered what his brother had inexplicably said at the hospital entrance that day—"Alright." A flash of inspiration hit him, and he blurted out, "Brother, did you agree to what I asked you that day?"

Yin Yan looked at him and nodded.

"Brother, you're the best!"

Yin Le was so happy he nearly jumped. He couldn't help but rush to the bed, pull an orange from the fruit basket, and say gleefully, "Brother, this orange is really sweet. I'll peel it for you!"

After a moment of stupor, Chou Feiqian quickly recovered. The pain on her face vanished, replaced by glee and relief.

She looked again at Han Ya, who seemed stunned by her son's order to leave. She felt as if a weight of resentment that had been building up in her heart for years had finally dissipated. Stepping sideways to block Han Ya's dazed gaze at the hospital bed, she sneered, "Playing pitiful doesn't work every time, Han Ya. Go back and tell your parents that I'll settle the score with them for you nearly killing my son."

After speaking, she ignored Han Ya's terrified look, took a step back, and slammed the door shut.

Bang!

Yin Yan withdrew his gaze from the window. His intertwined fingers loosened, and he tapped them on the quilt. He looked up at Yin Hexiang, who should be the head of the family, and asked seriously, "In this world... here, what preparations are needed to enter into a marriage contract?"

Yin Hexiang was stunned by his words.

Enter into a marriage contract? What an archaic way to put it. Wait, why was his son suddenly bringing this up? Was his recent awakening all fake? Was his heart still set on that Han Ya?

Chou Feiqian, who was walking back, obviously had the same thought. Her brow furrowed, and she opened her mouth to persuade him again, but was interrupted by her younger son, whose mood was already soaring at lightning speed.

"Enter into a marriage contract? Brother, you mean getting a marriage certificate, right? All you need for that is the household registration booklet. The troublesome part is the wedd... Wait, Bro, why are you suddenly asking about this? Could it be, you, you..."

Halfway through his sentence, Yin Le realized something was wrong. His soaring good mood got stuck. He swallowed drily, afraid of once again poking his brother's fragile nerve called "unrequited love." He changed the subject, his tongue tripping as he tentatively asked, "Brother, do you, do you have someone you'd like to marry?"

Yin Yan nodded lightly. Seeing this, Yin Le sucked in a breath of cold air, feeling like the sky was about to fall again.

Chou Feiqian finally couldn't hold back and took a step forward, stating decisively, "Xiao Yan, I will not allow you to be with Han Ya, not in this lifetime!"

Yin Hexiang placed a calming hand on his wife. Though he said nothing, his eyes also showed disapproval.

Having learned what he wanted to know, Yin Yan's hands, which had loosened, clasped together again. His gaze swept over the three people who had clearly misunderstood, and he shook his head. "The person I'd like to marry is not Han Ya, but a... little gardener."

When he spoke the last three words, his voice suddenly softened, carrying a hint of lingering tenderness, but unfortunately, the bewildered family of three completely missed it.

They looked at each other, utterly confused.

A little gardener? Who?

On the back mountain of Qingxu Temple, Yu Zhen, carrying a basket on his back, stopped under a peach tree that was in splendid bloom, his eyes filled with wonder.

Don't peach blossoms bloom in March or April? How could this one be blooming at the end of December? Had it mutated?