Chapter 1: Ruined Appearance

【First Volume Turbulent】

"Ugh..." Consciousness only barely returned, and I felt a burning pain all over my body, as if on fire. I barely opened my eyes and looked around. What met my eyes were rotten wooden beams, tangled gray spiderwebs everywhere, and a leaking, dilapidated triangular roof.

What... what kind of place is this? I clearly remember falling off a cliff in a car, but... how did I end up in a place resembling a ruined temple?

After a brief easing period, I finally adapted to the pain all over my body. It seems my past training wasn't completely useless. I gave a wry smile, lifting the corner of my mouth.

As my gaze shifted, I caught sight of a figure ahead, seemingly sitting by the fire. I somewhat realized that this kind soul must have rescued me after I fell off the cliff. Outside, a heavy rain had started, and he had nowhere to go, so he brought me here.

Suddenly I remembered something, and I gasped, ignoring the tearing, burning pain from head to toe, I shouted at that person: "Xiao Yu? No... did you see the girl who was with me?"

I finally saw clearly—it was a man. He rose, swept his icy, emotionless eyes over me, then turned and walked out of the ruined temple.

I felt like I'd been struck by lightning! Not because of his gaze—damn it, don't even mention his gaze, I couldn't even see his face clearly. But his ancient clothing and appearance... had I wandered onto a film set?

I consoled myself, sure of it. No wonder I was lying in a ruined temple and stone bed that only appear in martial arts novels. Yet, deep down I felt something was off.

At some point, a slender figure appeared at the doorway.

I lifted my head and stared at him, watching his slightly damp hair dance lightly in the breeze, his thin lips lightly pursed, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, forming a beautiful arc with the dimples beside his mouth. From his forehead to the tip of his nose, his face was covered by a silver-gray crescent-shaped mask. All I could see were his icy-blue eyes beneath long lashes, gazing at me with a warm smile as he drew near.

I never imagined someone in China could have eyes of that color, as if they could steal one's soul. Could he be of mixed heritage?

"Are you alright?" a voice as clear and refreshing as crystal. Is this heavenly music?

I couldn't help swallowing, and unconsciously nodded.

He smiled and touched my forehead—what a cool, soothing sensation! I couldn't help but become intoxicated. This must be a big star hired by some film crew, acting right now. And surely he's an A-lister, feeling more genuine than any celebrity I've ever met.

Sigh, who would have thought falling off a cliff could lead to such a romantic encounter? I really don't know whether to call it fortunate or unfortunate.

Wait, the cliff! Perhaps because of the scorching heat in my hand, he flinched slightly. But I didn't notice, cursing myself fiercely in my heart, I grabbed his hand and anxiously asked: "Xiao Yu? And the others in the car?"

He looked at me, puzzled, his beautiful blue eyes full of worry. (Cough! He probably thinks I've gone mad from fever.)

My heart began to sink; I took a deep breath to steady myself, lifted my head, and asked: "Was it you who saved me?"

He nodded, then shook his head, and his gentle voice sounded like flowing spring water: "It was Bu Sha who found you in the valley. At that time you were severely injured, with a high fever, near death, and I revived you."

Bu Sha? What a strange name—must be the one who was just sitting by the fire. I smiled gratefully at him, not expecting the movement to tug at my facial wound, making me grit my teeth in pain. Still, I continued: "Did you see anyone else with me, or any vehicle nearby?"

He still gently shook his head, lowered his head, and with one hand gently helped me up, saying: "Miss, your fever has just subsided a bit, but your wound hasn't healed yet. You should drink the medicine and rest early!" Only then did I notice the other hand holding a bowl of medicine. His slender fingers gripped the rim of a coarse porcelain bowl, appearing especially crystal-white against the dark liquid.

But at that moment I had no mood to admire those hands or feel grateful for his concern. Staring at the bowl of black medicine, my strength drained away as if sucked out in an instant, and I could no longer support my body, collapsing into his arms.

I can now almost certainly say that what has happened to me is the worst story in history—time travel.

Fortune in misfortune: I lowered my head to look at my clothes; though covered in mud, they were definitely the original ones, and the backpack that had been on my back still lay quietly in my hand. Sigh! At least I haven't possessed someone else's body!

Only then did I realize my right hand was still gripping something; I lifted it and my face instantly turned pale.

Fragments from before and after the fall gradually became clear in my mind, along with those distant memories I wished would never be opened.

A dark, short metal casing. In modern times, for non-law-enforcement personnel to carry it is absolutely illegal contraband—a pistol!

That—was taken from those thugs I fought with before the cliff fell...

I secretly hid the gun beneath me; actually, what do I have to feel guilty about? No one in this society would recognize it.

The man seemed not to have noticed anything; the medicine was already brought to my lips. Smelling it, I knew it would be bitter, but seeing his concerned, sincere eyes, I had no choice but to obediently gulp it down in large mouthfuls.

At this moment I could say I was completely lying in his arms; one hand wrapped around my neck to support me midair, while the other hand gently yet firmly held the porcelain bowl to feed me the medicine. Smelling the faint, valley-like scent emanating from him, I actually felt a bit intoxicated. A warm current seemed to surge in my chest, suddenly rising, and my face flushed hot.

I felt a bit embarrassed, and unconsciously slowed my drinking, almost forgetting how bitter the medicine was. He didn't urge me, just smiled and gazed at me gently. His icy-blue eyes seemed to hold a hint of warmth, saying: "Don't rush, take it slow."

I stared for a moment, then quickly gulped down the entire bowl of medicine; only then did the bitterness flood over me all at once.

He watched me frown, the movement tugging at my wound, and couldn't help but press his thin lips together, eyes filled with apology.

I suppose he had no choice either; finding medicinal herbs in this wilderness is already quite an accomplishment—where would one find sweet food?

I grabbed the backpack beside me and pulled out two 'Dove' chocolates—Xiao Yu puts them in there every day because I often forget breakfast, and she says this is the best way to replenish energy.

Thinking of Xiao Yu, I couldn't help feeling a bit gloomy. In reality, I seem to get along with everyone on the surface, but I truly can't get close to anyone. Xiao Yu could be said to be my only acknowledged friend. It's all my fault for dragging her into this; I don't know if she's alright.

I took a deep breath; seeing the chocolate had slightly melted but was still sweet, I eagerly tore open the wrapper and put it in my mouth, only relaxing inwardly once it had completely dissolved. What kind of medicine is this, how can it be so bitter?

I lifted my head and saw the man staring blankly at me—at the chocolate in my hand. I gave an embarrassed smile; I had wanted to pop that piece into my mouth as well, but forget it—after all, he is my lifesaver.

I peeled open half the wrapper and offered it to his lips, smiling: "Try it, it's a specialty from my hometown!"

He slightly lowered his head, looking down at me still half-reclining in his arms; his gaze was intensely focused, my blurred reflection in his blue eyes.

I felt a bit embarrassed, so I turned my head away, but my hand remained raised.

He swallowed the whole piece of chocolate in one gulp, then laid me down on the stone bed.

I jokingly said: "Not bad, right? Bitter with a hint of sweet—very much like the taste of life."

After saying that, I felt a mix of sentiment and loss. I must find a way back to modern times; I silently swore, because two people are surely searching for me day and night, waiting for me.

"The taste of being alive? I haven't felt it in a long... thank you!"

As he spoke those words, he smiled without looking at me, seemingly not looking at anything either; only the light in his eyes shone like sunshine. I couldn't help but feel warmed, as if by a father and brother.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Shui Bingyi." I gestured casually.

"How did you end up unconscious alone in the valley? You should know this place is rarely visited; ordinary people wouldn't dare come here alone. And your outfit is really quite strange..."

That shows he and Bu Sha aren't ordinary people. I secretly pondered how to make this story seamless.

"Miss Shui, if you really don't want to say, that's fine."

"Call me Bingyi." I remained lying comfortably; the story was basically ready in my mind, so I turned my head to talk to him: "My sister Xiao Yu and I have been fatherless and motherless since childhood, making a living by begging and odd jobs, life being very hard. This clothing is something others discarded that I picked up because it roughly fit; I had no choice, my sister and I..."

At this point I should have squeezed out two tears, but there were none. I helplessly turned to face the inner room and continued the lie: "A few days ago, we were fortunate to be hired by a wealthy household as maids; I was assigned to serve the lady, while Xiao Yu served the gentleman. I thought we'd finally have stable days. Who knew the wealthy master harbored ill intentions, actually trying to molest Xiao Yu. I happened to pass by, so I knocked him unconscious when he wasn't looking, stole some of his belongings, took Xiao Yu and fled to these mountains, where unfortunately I lost my footing and fell off the cliff. And then..."

I struggled to keep my voice trembling, wanting to sound like I was barely holding back tears. Actually this story has many loopholes, but unless one examines it closely, they're hard to notice.

Moreover, I and this man before me are merely passing acquaintances; even if he sensed I was hiding something, he wouldn't investigate further. And the reason I deliberately fabricated this story is so that I can later follow them openly with a legitimate excuse.

In this ancient world where I'm unfamiliar with life and the land, I don't even know what dynasty it is—how could a person possibly survive?

"Then Bingyi, rest first." He didn't comment on my words and was about to leave.

Oh no! Surely I'm suspected.

I couldn't help cursing myself for being stupid—look at my outfit, which part looks like a poor family's child? I just said that "Dove" was a local product; I'm so stupid I could go feed pigs.

"Are you this kind to everyone?" I asked, turning my head.

He gave me a warm smile and said, "I'm a doctor. Saving lives is what I should do." After saying that, he turned to leave.

"It's raining outside, right? Where are you and Bu Sha taking shelter from the rain?" I hurried to detain him.

"No need." He still smiled tolerantly, "Bu Sha is practicing his sword; rainy days are the best time for him. Just now I told him to stand guard here. And I still need to go pick some herbs, your face…"

He didn't go on, his eyes full of worry and regret. This person is absolutely a do-gooder.

Only then did I suddenly realize my face had been burning with pain just now; it must be badly injured. In this ancient society, that means I'm already—

Disfigured?

I resentfully touched my face; there was a five- to six-centimeter-long scar on each cheek, a not-short scrape on my chin, and the other small wounds were too many to count.

But it seems some ointment was applied; although it burns, there are occasional waves of cool comfort.

No wonder moving my face hurt just now; I recalled the time I fell from the cliff, when, after struggling with my kidnappers, the car flipped over the cliff and I was thrown out the window by the impact's inertia.

At the time I only felt a sudden burning pain all over, then lost consciousness; it must have been from those shards of glass cutting me.

With so many wounds, even in modern times they'd need plastic surgery to heal completely; here it's practically impossible.

Come to think of it, I used to be covered in wounds all the time and never bothered to treat them carefully, yet I had no scars at all.

Sigh, but that was back when I was a kid; my skin now doesn't have that strong self-healing ability.

No wonder he looked at me with such concern; for a woman, especially in ancient times, the most important things are reputation and appearance.

I unconsciously gave a cold smile. Reputation and appearance? The image of that naked corpse suddenly appeared in my mind—covered in wounds yet still as beautiful and pure as a white lotus. Yet she would never wake up to smile at me again.

My heart clenched hard, then I immediately forced myself to banish that image from my mind. As early as seven years ago, when Dad used those warm hands to pull me and my brother out of the darkness, hadn't we sworn? Forget all that, start a new life, a happy and joyful life.

And I've been doing that well—at least better than my brother.

I gathered all my emotions, then faced him with a wry, bitter-gourd smile and said sadly, "It's over—I'm disfigured now."

Hearing that I was completely joking, he stared for a full three seconds before saying, "You really don't care?"

"How could that be?" I waved my hand, "Who would want to become an ugly monster? No matter how much you care, it's useless anyway, since it's already happened. So all I can think is that it's just a body—after all, I'll have to change it in the next life."

It seemed as if he had suddenly touched upon something; after hearing me, he actually drifted off…

I saw the silver-gray mask flashing on his face, and I suddenly understood. We're both unfortunate souls wandering the world!

"What's your name?" I asked.

Judging by his appearance, he's probably about my age, at most a year or two older. For me, an orphan in ancient times, being able to follow him and be cared for like a brother is truly a good choice.

"little Qiran."

I nodded and asked, "Can I call you Qiran?"

"Of course." He smiled like a gentle spring breeze.

Staring at the mask on his face, I zoned out for a long time; knowing I shouldn't ask, I still blurted, "Why do you wear a mask? Can't I see your true face?"

He stared for a long time, probably not expecting me to make that request. But then, as if he'd figured something out, he smiled indifferently and said, "Sure! As you said, miss, it's just a body."

Having said that, he flipped his hand and took off the mask on his face.

(End of chapter)