Chapter 49: The Rebirth of the Concubine’s Daughter (Part 9)

After arranging all these matters, Mu Yin began to enjoy life. To be honest, living as a man in ancient times was indeed more comfortable than being a woman. Still, she felt she needed to open a shop to earn some money; otherwise, even with over ten thousand taels, it wouldn’t be enough for her needs, especially since the prices in the capital were anything but low.

After some consideration, Mu Yin rented a poorly run tavern in the Eastern District. She renovated it and opened a milk tea shop, offering chicken fillets, meat skewers, hamburgers, milk tea, ice cream, and other treats. She hadn’t revealed these ideas before, so even if she introduced them now, she wasn’t worried about anyone discovering her secret.

Moreover, she transcribed the martial arts novels she had read in her previous life and had storytellers recite them, filling the sweltering summer days with bustling business as lively as the weather itself.

One day, Mu Yin was sipping tea and enjoying various fried snacks, listening to a storyteller recount familiar tales. Suddenly, a stranger sat beside her. “Tell me, how do you plan to thank me?”

“Sir, we’re strangers. Why should I thank you?” Mu Yin found the question rather baffling.

“You don’t truly believe your business flourished all on its own, without anyone causing trouble, do you?” The young man in red raised his eyebrows at her.

“Oh? So what do you want?” Mu Yin was already aware that someone was helping her behind the scenes. Since no one had come to make trouble or demand her recipes, she knew someone was protecting her interests. Now it seemed the youth before her was that benefactor, though she wasn’t sure of his identity or his reasons for helping her.

“I haven’t decided yet. For now, give me a token that allows me free entry here,” the youth said after a moment’s thought.

“Very well, here you are.” Mu Yin nodded and handed him a token bearing her insignia.

Mu Yin thought that would be the end of it, but every time she visited the shop, she’d encounter this young man. He paid no heed to where she sat—always plopping down right beside her, listening to the stories, and occasionally chatting with her.

Their conversations ranged from the tales being told to discussions about distant lands, touching on all sorts of topics. Sometimes, Mu Yin would unwittingly share things with him, but eventually, she became more cautious and stopped conversing so freely. The youth noticed this and refrained from wandering into unrelated subjects.

Even so, Mu Yin gleaned some clues from his words. He frequently discussed the portrayal of the court in the storybooks. She had copied Mr. Jin’s works—though they were martial arts novels, they often alluded to the court’s state and featured a detailed timeline.

She had adapted the stories to fit this world, changing the dynastic background, which happened to align with a few similar periods. Perhaps history always follows similar paths.

The youth would often debate the political situation in the books with her. Mu Yin suspected he might be a member of the royal family. After some deduction based on his age, she realized who he was: closely connected to the crown prince, the true prince’s confidant, the eighth prince.

He wasn’t the scheming eighth prince from the tales of nine dragons fighting for the throne, pretending allegiance only to plot further. No, he was genuinely loyal to the crown prince, which put her at ease. When he deliberately tested her, she offered some insights—not too advanced, yet with a touch of originality.

After all, she hadn’t forgotten she was living under a false identity. If she stood out too much, fate would surely punish her. Besides, too radical ideas might not suit this world; adapting to local circumstances would avoid drawing suspicion.

With the male lead’s wife giving birth to a son and the female lead marrying her intended, Mu Yin’s task reached eighty percent completion. The final twenty percent was fulfilled when the crown prince ascended the throne. In such a strong-willed romance world, the relationship between the protagonists was central, but the male lead’s career was equally important.

By disrupting both, she had thoroughly completed her mission. Now her time was her own, so Mu Yin decided to travel. But soon after leaving, the eighth prince, now titled King Jing, Lan Jingxiao, pursued her and would not let her go. Over the next few years, their paths were entwined, and Mu Yin ultimately married him.

Lan Jingxiao had no attendants at his side, and later even fewer. His thick-skinned persistence and sincerity finally won Mu Yin over. Though their love was not passionate or dramatic, it was gentle and warm—Mu Yin’s first attempt at loving someone, and fortunately, the outcome was good.

Despite having regulated her health, the original owner’s death had left its mark. Even though she used the time-space key to reset her body to the moment before death, her lifespan was still shortened, and she passed away before reaching fifty.

Afterward, the world, affected by the storyline, gradually diminished, though traces remained. The law of marriage became secondary in importance, granting love in this world greater strength and support, spawning numerous touching romances.

Upon her death, Mu Yin left the world. Remembering the sorrowful look in her husband’s eyes before closing hers, she still felt distressed. Yet now she was a soul, unable to cry or feel pain. Thankfully, their children remained to comfort him.

Leaving that world, she entered the River of Time and Space. The combatants who once fought above it had disappeared, but the waters remained turbulent. She flew higher to avoid the spray—being hit by the waters of time would not bode well.

Previously, she had been shielded by the time-space key, sparing her from the river’s wrath. The last world was long, so she needed to organize her thoughts and emotions before entering the next. She lingered above the river, using the primordial energy earned from two worlds to cultivate. Her abilities stemmed from her soul, so even without a body, she could practice.

She cultivated for an unknown length of time, fully absorbing her last mission’s rewards. Her abilities finally advanced to level two, and she prepared to enter the next world. She chose not to return home, uncertain whether the timing was right. Instead, she followed the time-space key to another world. As long as it wasn’t her original world, she wouldn’t have to worry about the anomaly of two identical souls existing simultaneously.

She wondered when she would return. Fortunately, the memories she carried—perhaps dulled by the River of Time and Space—had faded considerably. Maybe this was what people meant when they said that time can heal all wounds.