The wind was roaring--
The horses were neighing--
Liao Jia was wailing--
When Shen Tang closed her eyes and sank into darkness at her "deathbed," she felt her entire body grow unbearably heavy. When she regained consciousness, the area around her was filled with raucous noise, bickering, and fighting—showing absolutely no respect for the funeral rites of the late emperor. What decent minister would start a brawl in the Mourning Hall?
In the blink of an eye, countless jumbled thoughts surged into her mind.
As her memories returned, her body gradually grew lighter.
Shen Tang rubbed her aching temples. She had suddenly gained more than forty years of memories and needed time to digest them. Just then, a familiar yet long-unheard male voice reached her ears. "My lord is awake?"
She opened her eyes at the sound.
As light entered her pupils, it also revealed the appearance of a young man.
Shen Tang froze for an instant, then quickly returned to normal.
"How did Gongsu get here?"
Or rather, how had she gotten here?
Shen Tang's gaze passed over Qin Li and landed behind him—or rather, on the black-and-white space they currently occupied. The space had no visible end. Countless stars followed their own orbits, quietly revolving amid gauze-like starlight. She lowered her head and saw that beneath her feet was a void radiating a tranquil purple light. When she raised her hand, Qin Li extended his own for her to lean on. "The Yin-Yang School's Sacred Hall?"
"Yes. Is there anywhere you feel uncomfortable, my lord?"
Shen Tang sighed. "My head hurts."
For Qin Li and the others, only a short while had passed, but for Shen Tang, it had been more than forty years. Her headache was not caused by confusion between her intertwined memories. Rather, she was