"Who knows what kind of chaos is unfolding outside right now?"

"Madam's throwing her worst tantrum yet—you saw how even Master couldn’t stop her just now. She’s probably in Old Madam’s chambers, pouring her heart out as we speak."

"And what good will that do? Everyone knows Old Madam dotes on the Second Young Master and Third Young Master, barely sparing a glance for our young lord. Besides, Madam’s too gentle—how could she ever outmaneuver Second Madam?"

"True enough. Old Master and Second Master may hold official positions, but ours barely earns Old Madam’s favor. Our young lord is a good man, kind to us all, but he just doesn’t know how to win Old Madam’s affection. And now, after being egged on by the Eldest and Second Young Masters to climb that tree—falling and nearly losing his life—he’s been unconscious for three days. How could Madam not be frantic?"

"Let’s just hope our young lord wakes up safely… Sigh, he’s all Madam has…"

Muddled by fever, Fang Jie’s consciousness drifted in and out. The murmured conversation of two women reached his ears, and when he faintly registered the sight of their tall, ornate hairpins and the backs of their heads, his mind abruptly seized upon the fragments of dialogue he’d half-heard in his delirium.

His dazed brain short-circuited.

He shook his head groggily, rolling his stiff neck before finally taking in the room’s furnishings. The blue gauze canopy above, the intricately carved bed beneath him, the table and vase by the window, the screen and other decorations—all screamed of a bygone era. When his gaze fell to his own hands, he let out an involuntary cry, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Gods above—these were the hands of a child!

"Young Master’s awake!"

The excited exclamation jolted Fang Jie upright. Before him stood two unfamiliar faces, their elaborate hairstyles and strange garments utterly unlike anything from his modern world. Their wide, disbelieving eyes bore into him, sending a chill down his spine.

Moments later, one girl dashed out as if blown by the wind, while the other clasped her hands together, murmuring "Amitabha" in ecstatic relief.

Though resurrection was a blessing, the sheer magnitude of this reincarnation left even Fang Jie—renowned for his quick wit—completely disoriented. Before he could muster any rationalization, a commotion erupted outside. The door, which had just been closed, burst open with a bang, and a figure stumbled in.

"Yu’er… Yu’er, you’re really awake?"

Before Fang Jie could make out the newcomer’s face, he was crushed in a suffocating embrace, the force of it leaving him gasping for air. Warm tears fell on his face, hands, and clothes, their heat trembling through him—but more than anything, he felt only numb confusion.

At last, the arms around him loosened slightly, allowing him to see the woman’s face. woman of about thirty, her face bare of powder and sallow in complexion. Her eyes were red and swollen, yet a faint smile tugged at her lips as she cradled his face in trembling hands, her lips parting as if to speak—yet no words came.

Fang Jie’s heart twisted in ways he couldn’t name.

Even the densest fool could guess the situation, and he was no fool. But understanding didn’t make acceptance any easier. After reminding himself again and again, he finally extended an arm, gently clasping the woman’s hand—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to call her "Mother" or "Mama." It was too absurd.

"Yu’er’s awake?" stern voice cut through the tender moment like a blade.

Fang Jie looked up to see an elderly woman entering, supported by two maids. A sable fur-lined headpiece crowned her hair, its center adorned with a brilliant blue gemstone. She wore a long robe embroidered with lotus, osmanthus, and evergreen motifs, her silver hair perfectly coiffed and pinned with a jade hairpin. Her face bore an aura of unshakable authority.

The woman who had been sitting by the bed immediately rose, bowing low and retreating to the side as she addressed the newcomer as "Old Madam." Yet the elderly woman didn’t even glance at her. Brushing off her maids’ hands, she strode straight to the bedside and sat down.

"Good that you’ve awakened. If you hadn’t, your mother would’ve turned this household upside down."

Under the piercing gaze of those sharp eyes, and with those words laced with both rebuke and concern, Fang Jie felt a pang of unease. But when his gaze met his mother’s desolate, pleading look, the overheard gossip flashed through his mind—and in an instant, fragments of memory surged forth.

With sudden clarity, he spoke:

"It’s all my fault for worrying Grandmother and Mother."

The room fell deathly silent. The maids and servants stood frozen, the woman by the bed staring at him in disbelief. Even Old Madam blinked in surprise before studying him intently. Her rigid expression softened slightly, though her tone remained stern with warning.

"If you knew we were worried, you should’ve thought twice before acting like a monkey and climbing trees. How many medicines have you taken? How many doctors have you seen? Your schooling has been sporadic at best, and now that you’ve finally managed to attend for a month, you pull a stunt like this!"

Fang Jie could only lower his head, though inwardly he chuckled bitterly. Though the reprimand stung, for a man who had lost all his loved ones in his previous life, even biased scolding was something he could endure.

Once done venting, Old Madam rose and turned to the woman still standing by the bed. Her tone was lukewarm as she said:

"Since Yu’er has awakened, let’s put this matter to rest. You needn’t make a scene. The Second Young Master and Third Young Master were indeed naughty—Second Madam has already disciplined them severely. This matter is settled. As for Yu’er, you, his mother, must devote yourself to his care and teachings. Don’t let him get into trouble again."

With that, the two maids helped Old Madam to her feet. As she swept out of the room, the others followed, leaving only the woman and Fang Jie behind.

The young wife sank onto the bedside with a sorrowful expression, her eyes fixed on the boy in the bed as she murmured:

"Gods above, why can’t my son be as healthy as other children? Sickly and now injured—how many lives does he have to endure this?"

Fang Jie could only sigh—first at the sheer absurdity of his reincarnation, second at the misfortunes that seemed to plague this life, and third at the coldness he sensed in this household. Yet in that moment, he steeled himself with resolve.

The old Fang Jie was dead. The man lying here now was someone else entirely.

Whether he could immediately embrace these new family members or not, one thing was certain: having been given a second chance at life, he owed it to himself—and to them—to live it well.