Chapter 107: Soul Swap (2)

(1)

The weather was gloomy, and the persistent, dull pain in his left leg came and went. Ning Yin gazed at his pale, sinister reflection in the mirror, then, with a flicker of disgust, flipped the bronze mirror facedown. 

Without Sui Sui’s rebirth to aid him, he would have become this wretched, neither-human-nor-ghost figure. 

Yu Lingxi had been cautiously observing him, seemingly puzzled by the source of his unusual behavior. 

With practiced ease, she took out a warmed wine pot and poured a cup for Ning Yin to ward off the chill. 

As Ning Yin watched her gentle, attentive expression, he suddenly understood why, back at the General’s Mansion, when Sui Sui, as a young lady, fed him lychees or peeled lotus seeds, she did so with such familiar ease. 

Because such acts, she had already performed thousands of times, long, long ago. 

Yet he had known nothing and even mocked her, saying, “How are you so skilled at serving others?” 

A shadow fell over Ning Yin’s eyes. He reached out to take the cup Yu Lingxi offered, rubbing it between his fingers, and said, “Sit down and drink with me.” 

When the Regent King was in the mood, he would occasionally pull her to share a drink.

Yu Lingxi wasn’t surprised. She sat as instructed and poured herself half a cup of wine. Afraid of drinking too much and causing trouble, she didn’t pour more. 

Ning Yin’s gaze swept over the scant wine, and he suddenly asked, “Is there any pepper powder?” 

He remembered Yu Lingxi loved spicy flavors, adding pepper powder to her wine or tea for extra taste—a quirky yet endearing habit. 

Yu Lingxi thought he was asking if the wine was spiced. Recalling the time the Regent King, red-eyed from the spice, had thrown her out, she hurriedly replied, “Rest assured, my lord, there’s no pepper powder in the wine.” 

Ning Yin glanced at a servant. “Fetch some pepper powder and plums.” 

The plums arrived quickly. Ning Yin personally picked two and placed them in Yu Lingxi’s cup. The clear wine soon turned a faint amber gold. 

Yu Lingxi was utterly flattered yet hesitant. Given the Regent King’s unpredictable nature, could he have mixed some strange poison into the plums? 

Seeing her hesitation, Ning Yin lifted the cup to her lips and said softly, “Open your mouth.” 

His leg pain flared, his face pale, and his low, slow tone carried an eerie edge. Yu Lingxi dared not defy him. She parted her red lips, letting the warm, spicy wine slowly trickle between her teeth. 

After a moment, no strange symptoms of poisoning appeared. The brief spicy tang gave way to the lingering sweetness of the plums, warmth rising from her stomach and spreading to her limbs. 

Yu Lingxi couldn’t fathom today’s Regent King, but it no longer mattered. The spice on her tongue turned into a rush of delight—she hadn’t felt such unrestrained joy in ages. 

This time, without the Regent King’s help, she poured herself another cup, drank it down in one go, and let out a satisfied sigh. 

Her cautious, probing almond eyes finally sparkled with relaxed, radiant amusement. 

What an easy person to please. 

Ning Yin’s lips curved slightly. He told her, “From now on, if Sui Sui wants to eat or drink anything, take it freely. No need to hold back.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” 

Yu Lingxi thanked him aloud, but inwardly rolled her eyes. 

The Regent King was capricious—one moment showering her with affection, the next turning cold. She was used to it. Seizing the moment was the way to go. 

Ning Yin glanced at her expressive, darting eyes, chuckled softly, and sipped his wine, knowing she was likely grumbling in her heart. 

No matter. She wasn’t cursing him, after all. 

The wine had a strong kick. After a few cups, Yu Lingxi’s cheeks flushed red, her hands unsteady with the cup. Propping her chin, she grew drowsy. 

Her head bobbed like a pecking chick, yet she fought to stay awake—a sight both amusing and pitiable. 

In the future, Sui Sui, who had turned the tides, would hum and act coy when drunk, calling “Ning Yin” over and over, and he would respond patiently, never tiring. 

But the Sui Sui before him was alone, her friends and family gone, unable even to indulge in a drunken outburst. 

Yu Lingxi finally succumbed to sleepiness. Her hand slipped, and her head plummeted toward the table. 

Ning Yin caught her in time. 

Her head landed in his cool palm. She nuzzled it, found a comfortable angle, and slept. 

Ning Yin didn’t pull his hand away. Biting the edge of his wine cup, he undid his outer robe with one hand and draped it over Yu Lingxi’s slender shoulders. 

In the quiet afternoon, under dark clouds, it was warm. 

Ning Yin watched the sleeping Sui Sui for a moment, then closed his eyes. 

His consciousness sank into darkness, a powerful vortex pulling him downward, as if summoning a wandering soul. 

Ning Yin startled, snapping his eyes open. 

His awareness returned to his body, vision sharpening. He was still in the Regent’s Mansion, where fate had not yet changed. 

Yu Lingxi slept, her head pillowed on his palm, covered by the dark purple robe he had placed on her. 

Ning Yin realized he couldn’t linger long in “Sui Sui’s past before her rebirth.” Once he slept, he would awaken in the real world. 

Returning to the bright, sunny Sui Sui filled him with joy, but what about the Sui Sui before him? 

“I dreamed I died because of this, leaving you to live alone in this world.” 

Sui Sui’s words from that time echoed, her light, smiling tone revealing her tragic end in her past life. 

A storm brewed in Ning Yin’s eyes as he formed a plan. 

While he still had time, he carefully withdrew his hand, picked up his cane, and stood. 

With a light press, a thin blade extended from the cane, reflecting a frosty glint in his eyes. 

(2)

Before his consciousness plunged into the endless abyss, Ning Yin’s heart clenched, and he snapped his eyes open. 

The curtains of Xiuyun Pavilion swayed, gradually pulling his thoughts back, warmth returning to his cold fingers. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Yu Lingxi, by his side, quickly noticed his troubled expression and asked with concern, “Did you have a nightmare?” 

Seeing Yu Lingxi beside him, the menace in Ning Yin’s eyes faded, replaced by a faint, serene smile. 

“Yes, a nightmare.” 

Ning Yin slowly unclenched his fist, examining his hand. Good—he was still in this perfect body. 

So, occupying another’s place wasn’t a permanent solution. As soon as he slept, he would return to that cold, Lingxi-less world. Troublesome. 

“Your Highness, the malt sugar and flower lanterns you requested have been purchased,” a servant reported, interrupting Ning Yin’s thoughts. 

“Flower lanterns?” Ning Yin raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s rare to have a day out of the palace. I suddenly thought of replacing the lanterns in the mansion,” Yu Lingxi said with a smile, opening the malt sugar and offering him one. “Want some?” 

Before Lingxi left, her final wish was to stroll the streets with him and buy snacks. 

That wish went unfulfilled until her death. Later, Ning Yin bought a pack of sugar alone but could never taste the sweetness of her feeding it to him. 

Ning Yin took the sugar, studied it fondly, then reluctantly put it in his mouth, squinting with satisfaction. 

Yu Lingxi gazed at the clouds on the horizon and suggested, “It’s a few hours until the lanterns light up. Shall we fly a kite together?” 

Ning Yin had no interest in kites. 

His childhood wasn’t fond, and with his leg ailment for years, he despised anything requiring healthy running. 

What interested him was the vibrant, radiant Lingxi before him—radiant enough that if she asked for his heart, he’d carve it out without hesitation. 

But it was autumn, and the market had no kites for sale. 

Yu Lingxi had servants prepare glue, bamboo strips, and other materials to try making one herself. 

Lacking crafting skills, she fumbled for a while and nearly cut her finger. 

“Wrong. It’s done like this,” Ning Yin said, unable to watch any longer. He took the materials and started working. 

Yu Lingxi smiled, watching him. 

When he lowered his eyes, heavy shadows fell on his eyelids, giving him a cold, distant air, steeped in the aura of long-held power. 

Ning Yin tied the strings unhurriedly, glancing at her focused gaze, and drawled, “Is Lingxi always this happy?” 

Yu Lingxi paused, then nodded. “With family whole and my beloved by my side, of course I’m happy.” 

“Beloved…” 

Ning Yin savored the word, entranced, then repeated with a half-smile, “Beloved, huh.” 

As the kite was finished, clouds covered the sun, and the weather turned. 

With such strong autumn winds, the kite wouldn’t fly. Yu Lingxi sighed, propping her chin. “What a pity. I can’t fly a kite with you.” 

Ning Yin didn’t mind; his focus was never on the kite. 

The overcast sky grew dark. By early evening, the mansion was aglow with lanterns. 

The flower lanterns Yu Lingxi had ordered were hung in the courtyard, along corridors, under eaves, and in treetops, shining like countless fallen stars, forming a gentle sea of light above. 

Beneath this sea, Yu Lingxi and Ning Yin drank, cloaked in a golden veil. 

Under the lanterns, her beauty was unmatched, impossible to look away from. 

Ning Yin had never had the chance to view flower lanterns with Lingxi… or perhaps he did. 

The first Lantern Festival was a blood-soaked ambush; the second, he was busy hunting stragglers and didn’t return. 

He lived ruthlessly, assuming there was always time. 

He didn’t know he’d lose Lingxi forever three months later, in spring. 

Something struck him, darkening his gaze. 

The streets they strolled, the kite they crushed, the lantern festival they never shared… her regrets before death were being fulfilled, one by one, by the Lingxi before him. 

But how did this world’s Lingxi know his past regrets? 

“Ning Yin, is there anything else you want?” Yu Lingxi asked, slightly tipsy, swaying with her cup. 

You. I want you. 

Ning Yin answered in his heart, his gaze dark and obsessive. 

But his lips curved into a gentle smile, and he said lazily, “Make me a pair of leather boots.” 

Yu Lingxi blinked slowly, then smiled. “Alright.” 

(3)

The night rain was cold, and Ning Yin still couldn’t adjust to his broken left leg. 

He had wiped out the Xue and Zhao households without resistance. 

It seemed his paranoia and brutality remained unchanged, in this life or the last. 

After dealing with the Xue and Zhao families, he turned to the hidden rebels in the court. 

Fortunately, his subordinates here were much like his confidants in his previous world. After eliminating those who needed to die, Ning Yin gathered his key men, led by Zhou Yunqing and Zhe Ji, for final arrangements. 

Leaning in his chair, his handsome face cold, he turned a dragon-patterned jade pendant in his fingers and said, “If I die, the one holding this jade is your new master. Respect and protect her. Any objections?” 

Though puzzled, they bowed in unison. “We obey your orders, my lord.” 

“Good.” 

With that done, Ning Yin had the Xue and Zhao culprits—Xue Song, Zhao Hui, and Zhao Yuming—tied with coarse ropes behind horses, dragged back to the mansion. 

His eyes icy, he ordered the three to kneel and kowtow to Yu Lingxi. 

Xue Song, missing a boot, his feet bloodied from the rain-soaked ground, panted heavily, his face grim, refusing to kneel. 

“Break his legs,” Ning Yin ordered the guards coldly, wasting no words. 

He didn’t know how long he could stay in this world. Before returning, he had to eliminate all threats to Sui Sui. 

After muffled screams, Ning Yin calmly raised his hand, covering Yu Lingxi’s eyes. 

Yu Lingxi’s lips tightened. When his hand lowered, light returned, revealing Xue Song’s legs twisted unnaturally, kneeling in the rain, unable to stand. 

Zhao Hui and Zhao Yuming, pale with fear, collapsed to their knees without prompting. 

“I don’t know my crime, but please, my lord, spare me!” Zhao Hui begged, crawling like a beaten dog to Yu Lingxi, kowtowing. “Niece, plead with the Regent! For the sake of my sheltering you…” 

His words stirred memories of her stifled, confined life in the Zhao household. 

Yu Lingxi stepped back, hiding behind the Regent’s towering figure, and turned away. 

She couldn’t quite grasp it. If the Regent made her uncle and cousin kneel to vent her anger, what about Xue Song? 

Then, as autumn wind blew open the bedroom window, Yu Lingxi stared at the rain drifting in and vaguely understood. 

It was raining today. No wonder. 

On rainy days, the Regent’s leg ailment flared, making him especially bloodthirsty. 

Realizing this, she closed the window, untied her dress, and walked to the bed. 

She slipped under the covers, yawned softly, and warmed the bed before the Regent returned. She’d done this many times; it was no big deal… 

Besides, mutual benefit was her way of survival.

When Ning Yin returned, chilled from the rain, Yu Lingxi had rolled to one side, leaving half the warmed bed for him. 

The covers, scented with her fragrance, held a tempting warmth. Yu Lingxi peeked out, her almond eyes shimmering, gazing at him. 

Ning Yin’s eyes flicked up, tucking the blanket around her. 

His face was bloodless, lips tightly pressed, yet unlike usual, he didn’t use Yu Lingxi to “warm” himself. 

Yu Lingxi hesitated, unsure whether to move closer or stay put. 

Seeing the Regent lean against the bed, enduring in silence, she couldn’t bear it and ventured, “I’ve bathed, my lord. You can come closer.” 

Ning Yin opened his eyes, a self-punishing smile on his lips, and said hoarsely, “No need, Sui Sui.” 

This bone-deep pain was the broken life he was meant to endure. 

He wanted to fully experience what his life would have been—less than human, less than ghost—had Sui Sui not entered it. 

Yu Lingxi studied him carefully. Seeing no murderous intent, she buried her nose in the pillow and said softly, “You’re very different today, my lord.” 

She had noticed the anomaly, and Ning Yin didn’t intend to hide it. 

After a moment’s pause, he parted his pale lips and said slowly, “Because I come from another time—a time where Sui Sui’s rebirth changed my fate.” 

Yu Lingxi’s eyes widened, staring at him in shock. 

(4)

When Yu Lingxi woke, her head rested on a pair of strong thighs, her arms cradling the half-cut pattern for a shoe from last night. 

Ning Yin leaned against the bed, propping his head, idly stroking her loosened hair. 

Yu Lingxi was startled by the dark circles under his eyes. In her past life, Ning Yin, tormented by his leg ailment, often went sleepless, looking pale and shadowy, exuding a gloomy chill. 

“You sat up all night?” she asked, tracing his dark eyes from a distance, her expression complex. 

“Afraid if I slept, I’d wake and not see you,” Ning Yin said with a manic smile, his eyes warm and obsessive. 

He took her hand, caressing each finger, and asked softly, “When did you recognize me, Lingxi?” 

Yu Lingxi froze. 

“Shh.” Ning Yin pressed a finger to her lips, glancing at the shoe pattern. “Don’t lie. I’ve seen it. Yesterday, you were fulfilling my past regrets. Even this boot pattern is identical to the one you gave me.” 

He chuckled. “I don’t understand—where did I slip?” 

Yu Lingxi pulled his finger from her lips, gazed at him, and sighed. “You called me Lingxi. And in this life, we didn’t meet on the eighth of August.” 

The moment she saw him yesterday, something felt off. 

His subtle gestures and mannerisms were closer to his past-life self. 

“This life?” Ning Yin, sharp as ever, caught the key. “So, like me, you died and were reborn in this world?” 

No, he wasn’t reborn. 

When he closed his eyes, his soul was pulled back—a mere guest in another’s body. 

His gaze darkened, but he said gently, “Then, Lingxi, who is the one who won your heart, who saw you in your fiery wedding dress?” 

“It’s you, Ning Yin,” Yu Lingxi said, frowning. “There’s no difference. You’re the same soul.” 

“No,” Ning Yin said softly. 

When he closed his eyes, he’d return to a broken body, a broken life. 

And the other “him”? 

That “him” had Lingxi’s company, free from suffering. Different times, different fates—how could they be the same? 

Something struck him, and he laughed. 

“Why not kill him?” he said lightly. 

(5)

In the Regent’s Mansion, rain poured outside the bedroom, but inside, it was calm. 

“…The future Sui Sui saved Ning Yin, so the future Ning Yin came to help Sui Sui,” Ning Yin said in a low voice, summarizing his tale. 

Yu Lingxi listened, stunned. 

“Don’t believe me?” Ning Yin asked. 

She nodded, then quickly shook her head. 

“May I ask… not you, but the future you, one question?” she said. 

Ning Yin’s face was pale, his lips curving. “Ask.” 

Yu Lingxi hesitated, then, with humble hope, asked carefully, “In the world where I was reborn, are my parents and siblings still alive?” 

Ning Yin paused. 

He hadn’t expected her to ask about such a small detail, not wealth or power. 

He nodded. “They are.”

Yu Lingxi’s eyes lit up.

“All of them,” Ning Yin added, deciding to say more.

He wasn’t one to care about others’ family matters, but seeing her bright eyes, he continued, “Yu Huanchen married a Su girl and just had a daughter. Yu Xinyi and Ning Zizhuo are in love and will soon be engaged. Your father was honored as a first-rank Duke for his victories, and your mother is well…”

He noticed tears sliding into her hair, glistening coldly, stinging his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Ning Yin asked, forgetting his leg pain, touching the wet trail at her eye.

“My brother’s fiancée was indeed a Su. They never got to marry before he…” Yu Lingxi wiped her eyes, then broke into a teary smile. “I’m just happy… Really, it’s wonderful!”

Her lips trembled, as if a final thread had snapped. She buried her face in the covers, sobbing, “They’re alive. That’s wonderful!”

Ning Yin lowered his eyes, patting her back like soothing a child.

The ruthless madman finally understood the value of family ties through Sui Sui’s tears.

After a brief, joyful cry, Yu Lingxi regained her composure.

She rubbed her wet face on the pillow and said with a nasal voice, “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

Ning Yin’s lips twitched. “If I close my eyes and sleep, I’ll leave. What else do you want, Sui Sui? Speak.”

He’d make it happen before he left.

Yu Lingxi thought for a long time, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Knowing her family’s future was secure, her tone lightened, her whole being vibrant, like a flower soaked in water.

Seeing his raised brow, she smiled softly. “Really, nothing.”

Knowing her family lived well, with friends and kin intact, she had no regrets.

“When I go, you’ll face that clueless madman again,” Ning Yin said, using the harshest words for himself. “Not afraid?”

Before she could answer, he chuckled lowly.

Though the old Ning Yin was gone, and the current one might vanish too, if his existence hinged on Sui Sui’s death, he’d rather disappear.

Without the madman, Sui Sui might live better… Who knows?

His dark eyes gleamed as he leaned in softly. “Shall I kill him for you?”

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