Lu Qiqi watched the easy warmth between them and felt a quiet sense of relief. Their marriage had begun as a matter of necessity, yet looking at him now, she found herself genuinely pleased with the man she had wed.
The three shared a simple meal of buns and water to see them through the evening. Gu Mufeng then tidied their things, preparing to rest. He knew both Lu Qiqi and Lu Chuan were exhausted after the day’s ordeal.
“Wife, you and Little Chuan should rest early. I shall sleep in the other room.”
Lu Qiqi nodded, looking at him with sincere gratitude. “Thank you, Gu Mufeng.”
Gu Mufeng smiled gently. “You are my wife. There is no need to stand on ceremony. Little Chuan has had a fright—stay close beside him tonight.”
With that, he turned and walked to the adjoining room.
Having no toothbrushes or toiletries of their own, Lu Qiqi simply had Lu Chuan rinse his mouth with warm water, then prepared the medicine with boiled water for him to take.
“Rest well once you have taken your medicine, Little Chuan.”
Lu Chuan swallowed his medicine and lay down obediently. “Sister… are we truly going to that brother-in-law’s home?”
Lu Qiqi nodded solemnly.
“We are. Little Chuan, your Second Uncle and Second Aunt are not good people. We have severed all ties with them. We can never return to the Lu family. As for Gu Mufeng and me—our marriage is legally registered. We are husband and wife in the eyes of the law. For now, we shall travel to his family’s home. This match was arranged by his grandfather, and I am confident the Gu family are decent folk. But never fear—no matter what happens, I shall never abandon you. I will never send you away again.”
Reassured by her words, Lu Chuan fell asleep peacefully.
Though her body was weary, Lu Qiqi’s mind was still adjusting to this strange, new world she had entered. She watched Lu Chuan sleeping soundly beside her, and her heart hardened with resolve. No matter what hardships lay ahead, she would protect this vulnerable little brother of hers—and ensure he was never hurt again.
When the room fell quiet and night deepened, Lu Qiqi lay awake beside Lu Chuan’s small bed. Suddenly she remembered the wooden box she had reclaimed from Sun Kaifeng that afternoon. She rose quietly, retrieved it, and set it down beneath the lamplight.
The box was beautifully crafted, showing fine age and workmanship, secured by an intricate Lu Ban lock—an ancient puzzle mechanism notoriously difficult to open.
Piecing together fragments of the original owner’s memories, she learned that her mother Su Ran had come from the capital city. The Su family had been wealthy and influential, until they were framed and exiled to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. To spare the youngest and only daughter further hardship, the Su family had arranged her marriage to Lu Jianshe shortly before their exile—a match proposed by the elder Master Lu, who had known the Su family patriarch in his youth.
Su Ran had occasionally sent letters northwestward in her lifetime. But after she and Lu Jianguo passed away, all contact between the Lu family and the Su relatives ceased. Lu Qiqi recalled Su Ran often sitting gazing at this very box. On her deathbed, she had told her daughter that the box and its contents were to be her dowry—an heirloom passed down through the Su family matriarchs, from mother to daughter only.
Lu Qiqi turned the box this way and that, working the mechanism from memory… until—click.
The lock sprang open.
Even the original owner had never managed to undo it. Yet she had opened it on her first try. Could it be… that this box was meant for her alone?
When she lifted the lid and saw what lay inside, she felt certain it was no mere coincidence.
Resting within were a pair of jade bracelets of the finest, most luminous quality, and a matching jade pendant—carved from the same exquisite stone. The bracelets were stunning, and Lu Qiqi admired them deeply. But it was the pendant that took her breath away.
If she was not mistaken… this pendant was identical in every detail to the one she had worn in her past life.
In that life, she had been abandoned at an orphanage as an infant—and this pendant had been the only thing found with her. The orphanage director had been an honest woman; upon her graduation from university, she had returned it to her, saying it might one day reveal the truth of her origins.
Lu Qiqi held the pendant trembling in her hands, overwhelmed by confusion and shock. How could her pendant from a past life be here now? What in the world did this mean?
She turned it over carefully. The carvings were exquisite, swirling with intricate patterns that seemed to hold deeper meaning. Her fingers brushed its surface—and it felt cool, smooth, and strangely warm, as if a faint, living energy flowed beneath the stone.
On a sudden impulse, she pricked her fingertip with a needle. A single drop of blood welled up—and before she could draw it away, it seemed drawn to the stone, sinking into the jade as if it were water.
A sudden warmth surged through her chest. The world blurred—and in the next breath, she stood in a place she had never seen.
She found herself in a quiet, beautifully kept courtyard of ancient design. At its center stood a delicate pavilion with a stone table and benches. She looked around and realized she stood upon lush green grass scattered with flowers of every hue, filling the air with a soft, sweet fragrance. The place breathed an air of timeless peace and tranquility.
Is this… a storage space realm?
She explored it carefully. She could see the entire courtyard clearly; beyond its borders lay a soft, white mist. In one corner, a clear spring bubbled endlessly from the earth. Beside it lay a stone pool. At the far side stood a modest wooden house. She stepped inside—and gasped.
It was far larger inside than it appeared from without. The house contained three rooms, a living area, a kitchen, and a bath. One room was a bedroom; another held shelves of medicinal herbs and apothecary equipment; the third was a study. Most astonishing of all—every room was furnished with modern furniture. The kitchen contained a refrigerator and a chest freezer, both stocked full of fresh meat, poultry, and fish. Adjoining the kitchen was a storage room, where great wooden barrels stood filled with rice, flour, and every kind of grain. Bundles of vegetable seeds lined the shelves as well.
Lu Qiqi looked out at the rich, empty soil surrounding the house. Once I have time, she thought, I shall plant every bed with vegetables. With endless grain and supplies at her fingertips, she would never want for food—not even in these lean, rationed years of the 1970s.
For now, however, she had no time to plant. Tomorrow they would depart Rongcheng City. She needed to confirm whether this space could store and preserve things—the kind of magical storage she had read about in stories.
She gathered her thoughts and spoke softly: “Return.”
In an instant, she was back in her room at the inn. She tested her new ability by placing her hand upon various objects. One experiment after another confirmed it: this space could store anything, preserve it perfectly, and hold it indefinitely.