The Grown-Up Wife, Reuniting After Many Years

Su Qing'an's consciousness rose on its own. His manas brushed across the sealed Soul Hall, causing vast fields of white flowers to sway and cleanse it. It was as though he had pushed aside heavy mists and, dragged down by layers of drowsiness and the inertia of sleep, slowly opened his eyes. The first thing that entered his vision was a familiar yet strange, coolly beautiful woman.

She wore a fitted black jacket over a bright yellow blouse. The contrast between the light and dark tones accentuated her full, rounded curves. Black shorts and the leather belt threaded through them visually divided her excellent proportions, making her already slender waist even more conspicuous, while the jacket hanging down behind her happened to conceal the tantalizing contours of her hips.

Her long, slender legs, which should have revealed a large expanse of skin, were mostly hidden beneath thigh-high stockings. Only a narrow strip of bare skin remained between the shorts and stockings, its smooth whiteness reflecting the soft glow and outlining her graceful, well-proportioned legs. The look was completed by the small black leather shoes on her feet, creating a harmonious color scheme.

The girl tilted her head slightly. A White Sparrow perched in the center of the black fisherman's hat atop her head and tilted its tiny head as well, blinking at the cold mist that had yet to disperse inside the chamber—and at Su Qing'an, who seemed not to have fully awakened.

Looking at the bewilderment between his brows, she greeted him:

"It's September 21, 1955."

Hua extended a hand toward him, smiling brightly.

"You slept for eight hundred years. How do you feel?"

Su Qing'an stared blankly, still seeming to linger in that instant when he had actively restarted himself. The Hua before him felt somewhat unfamiliar. She