Chapter 44
As Chi Lin reached Lou Mi’s door, her hand hovering over the doorbell, she hesitated.
She longed to know if Lou Mi was the Empress.
If she was, it would be a joyous reunion, saving Chi Lin from further searching.
But if she wasn’t…
That would be devastating.
And a single cup of tea wasn’t a definitive test.
The Preceptor had only mentioned similarities between the Empress’s past and present lives, not necessarily shared tastes.
It might not even work.
But what if she does like it?
She drank two servings of that sugary dessert…
Chi Lin paced, her mind racing, then finally rang the doorbell.
Lou Mi, holding Tiger, had been watching her from around the corner, observing her internal struggle.
“Looking for me?” she asked.
Chi Lin, startled, exclaimed, “What are you doing here?!”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? What were you doing lurking outside my door?”
She put Tiger down, and it waddled over to Chi Lin, rubbing against her legs.
“And take care of your dog,” Lou Mi continued, scolding her. “It’s always pooping in the yard. It stinks. Take it to the dog park, will you?”
Chi Lin, seeing Lou Mi’s annoyance, offered her the tea.
“I’m sorry, Sister. I haven’t been a responsible pet owner. This is my peace offering.”
Lou Mi, having witnessed Chi Lin’s pacing and internal debate, was amused.
“You came prepared with a peace offering? Or did you just not want to drink it yourself?”
Chi Lin, seeing Lou Mi’s smile, relaxed slightly.
“I heard about this… internet-famous dark tea blend,” she said. “It’s supposed to have a unique taste, either you love it or you hate it. I was curious, so I made some.”
Lou Mi looked at the dark red liquid in the cup. “You made this yourself? This… thing?”
Chi Lin nodded.
She had assumed Lou Mi, always eager to try new things, would be willing to sample the tea.
Instead, Lou Mi poked her head.
“You’re giving me something you’re not even sure is safe to drink? How can you be so… inconsiderate?”
Chi Lin: “…How will you know if you don’t try it? You might like it.”
Lou Mi opened her bedroom door. “No, thanks. You drink it.”
Chi Lin, seeing her about to close the door, quickly stepped inside, holding the cup protectively.
“Don’t close the door. I have something to say.”
“Are you crazy? You’ll get your hand caught!”
“Sister, please. Just one sip.”
Lou Mi: “??”
She stared at Chi Lin as if she were insane. Chi Lin, realizing her approach wasn’t working, changed tactics.
“I made this tea for you, Sister. It’s not some random internet concoction. It’s my… apology.”
Lou Mi, intrigued, leaned against the doorframe.
“Oh? What do you have to apologize for?”
Chi Lin, seeing her curiosity, thought Lou Mi was far more transparent than the Empress, yet also strangely endearing.
“For being… distant at your grandparents’ house,” she said.
“So you admit you were being distant?”
Chi Lin nodded.
“Why? Were you trying to annoy me?”
Chi Lin, unfazed by her accusatory tone, took a step closer.
“No, I was just… confused.”
Confused about how to identify the Empress’s reincarnation, about whether or not you are the Empress…
Chi Lin thought, but Lou Mi interpreted her words differently.
Could she mean…?
Lou Mi’s heart pounded.
Chi Lin held out the cup, almost touching Lou Mi’s lips.
“Please, accept my apology. I’ll try to be… more consistent.”
If she drinks this tea, I’ll know if she’s the Empress. It’ll guide my actions.
“You and consistency don’t belong in the same sentence,” Lou Mi said, but she took the cup.
She hadn’t drunk the tea yet, but Chi Lin’s words had already intoxicated her.
As Lou Mi brought the cup to her lips, Chi Lin’s heart raced, her gaze fixed on Lou Mi’s face, waiting for her reaction.
Lou Mi sniffed the tea, her face contorting in disgust.
“What is this?! Did you put… poop in it?”
Chi Lin cringed at her vulgarity. “It’s Fu Xuan Zi. It’s good for you. Calming, promotes sleep… The smell is a bit… strong, but it’s good for you.”
Lou Mi hesitated, the cup still at her lips.
Chi Lin, sensing her reluctance, said, “It smells worse than it tastes.”
Lou Mi: “Is this like… stinky tofu tea? It smells worse than stinky tofu.”
Chi Lin, exasperated by her hesitation, gently pushed the cup, and Lou Mi took a small sip.
Lou Mi, expecting to choke, was surprised by the smooth, slightly bitter taste.
Chi Lin’s touch had been surprisingly gentle.
Here we go again!
If the flying wine glass incident had been an accident, this was a deliberate act of… poisoning!
“What was that for?!”
“You were taking too long,” Chi Lin replied, her tone suddenly assertive, no longer the apologetic, pleading tone from moments ago.
“You…” Lou Mi looked at the tea in her hand. “So there was a hidden agenda.”
“Do you like it?”
“Did you poison me?”
Chi Lin, so close to the answer she had been seeking, grabbed Lou Mi’s sleeve and pinned her against the door.
“I asked you a question! Do you like it?!”
Lou Mi had never been treated like this before.
Everyone knew she wasn’t one to be trifled with. The last person who had raised their voice at her was now six feet under.
If anyone else had done this, she would have thrown them over her shoulder.
But it was Chi Lin, the little wildcat…
She didn’t resist, curious about Chi Lin’s sudden intensity.
“You really want to know?” she asked, enjoying her momentary control over the situation. As long as she didn’t answer, Chi Lin would have to keep asking.
Chi Lin knew she had been impulsive. She shouldn’t have used force.
But she needed to know.
Lou Mi leaned against the door, her body slightly tilted, Chi Lin almost in her arms.
She shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“It’s disgusting,” she said, anticipating Chi Lin’s anger.
Come on, let’s fight. Isn’t this our usual dynamic?
She had imagined countless reactions, but she hadn’t expected Chi Lin’s eyes to fill with tears.
Seeing her disappointment and unshed tears, Lou Mi panicked.
She had made people cry before, with her insults and sharp tongue, but never with a simple… lie.
Chi Lin released her, her face a mask of despair.
“Uh… hey…”
Chi Lin quickly turned away, not wanting Lou Mi to see her cry, and walked towards her room.
“Chi Lin!”
Lou Mi followed her, calling her name, but Chi Lin walked quickly, and Lou Mi, afraid of hurting her, didn’t grab her arm, just followed her.
Their rooms were on opposite sides of the house, requiring them to pass through the living room.
Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan were watching TV, and seeing Chi Lin rush past, they paused, their gazes following her.
Lou Mi, not wanting to call out Chi Lin’s name in front of her parents, slowed down.
Once they were out of sight, she quickened her pace and followed Chi Lin into her room.
Lou Lixing, looking at Peng Ziyuan, said, “Did you see that?”
“I think… Mimi was chasing Xiao Lin,” Peng Ziyuan replied, her words carrying a double meaning.
Lou Lixing coughed. “Just… playing around, right?”
Peng Ziyuan chuckled nervously. “Of course. Sisters being sisters.”
“Was Xiao Lin crying?”
Peng Ziyuan: “…”
“Did Mimi make her cry?”
Peng Ziyuan: “…”
They both shuddered, putting down their fruit and quietly following the girls.
“Chi Lin!”
Lou Mi had slipped into Chi Lin’s room just as she was closing the door.
Chi Lin turned, her back to Lou Mi.
“You’re quick,” she said.
“Professional athlete, remember?”
Chi Lin’s voice softened.
“I’m sorry. I was impulsive earlier. I just… need some time alone.”
“Okay, but before I leave, I need to clear something up,” Lou Mi said. “The tea was actually… good. The taste was a bit… unusual, but I liked it. I was just teasing you. I’m sorry. I was being childish.”
Why are we always apologizing to each other? They had never apologized for their far more egregious offenses in the past.
Chi Lin turned, her eyes still red, her tears barely contained.
“Really?” she asked.
Lou Mi wanted to swear on her life. “Really!”
Chi Lin smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me? I’m being serious! I wasn’t lying!”
“Thank you, regardless,” Chi Lin said.
Lou Mi, exasperated, raised her voice. “The tea was good! Believe me!”
Chi Lin’s expression changed. She put a finger to her lips, quietly walked to the door, and suddenly flung it open, almost knocking over Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan, who had been eavesdropping.
“Mother, Uncle, you should be sleeping,” she said, her voice cold and sharp.
Chi Lin, usually quiet and composed, could be surprisingly intimidating when angry.
Peng Ziyuan, forcing a smile, said, “We were just… worried about you two. Don’t fight.”
“We’re not fighting,” Chi Lin said.
Lou Mi, also trying to get rid of them, said, “We’ll let you know if we’re fighting. Stop eavesdropping. It’s creepy. Go to bed.”
Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan reluctantly retreated, Lou Lixing exchanging a look with Lou Mi, urging her to be patient with her “sister.”
Lou Mi closed the door, and they were alone again.
Chi Lin’s composure had returned, her tears gone, her face now calm and serene.
Lou Mi knew she had to explain herself.
“You know I have a… sharp tongue. I can’t always control what I say. But you have to believe me this time… the tea was good. Really.”
Chi Lin smiled.
It was a beautiful smile, but Lou Mi sensed a distance, a subtle withdrawal.
“Thank you, Sister. I understand. You should go to bed now. You have work tomorrow, and I have school.”
“Chi Lin…”
“Good night.”
Lou Mi, dismissed, said good night and left.
Chi Lin didn’t sleep that night.
Not because she was upset, but because her mind was racing.
She couldn’t sleep, so she got up and continued her research on Danzhou opera.
The mention of “Shangjing” in “Capital Chatter” confirmed Dayuan’s existence, but she was still searching for the right direction.
Her geography studies had broadened her understanding of the world.
And after studying world history, she had a new theory:
Was Dayuan the same country as modern China?
Or a different civilization altogether? Despite the cultural similarities, it was possible.
She jotted down her thoughts on her phone.
She spent the rest of the night researching online, guided by the system.
She found some information about a city called Shangjing, the secondary capital of a kingdom called Qi, but its historical timeline didn’t match Dayuan’s.
As dawn broke, she stood up, feeling slightly dizzy from lack of sleep.
As she washed her face, memories of the previous night resurfaced.
She felt embarrassed about crying, but she hadn’t been able to control her emotions.
Remembering Lou Mi’s reaction, she wondered if Lou Mi had actually liked the tea.
Was Lou Mi the Empress?
She was at a crossroads, finally understanding why the Preceptor had chosen her for this task.
It wasn’t just about logic and analysis, it was about intuition.
Who else but the Empress’s closest companion could identify her reincarnation based on a feeling?
She shouldn’t have been cold to Lou Mi. Lou Mi was the innocent victim in all of this.
Even if she was the Empress, she wouldn’t remember her past life.
And if she wasn’t, it wasn’t her fault.
She was simply Lou Mi, a passionate, outspoken, and fiercely independent woman.
But if she was the Empress… that would be a miracle.
The biggest challenge was how to confirm her suspicions.
Chi Lin, who had always prided herself on her composure, felt a pang of frustration.
As she was about to go outside for her morning exercises, her phone rang.
Grandpa Yan? At this hour?
She answered the phone. “Grandpa Yan?”
His booming voice, accompanied by laughter and chatter, almost deafened her.
“Master Chi! Are you home?!”
Chi Lin held the phone away from her ear.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Good! We’re coming over!”
“We? Coming over?”
“Yes! It’s tradition for a disciple to greet their master the morning after the ceremony! We’re a bit late, but we won’t make you late for school!”
Chi Lin: “But…”
Before she could protest, the doorbell rang.
“Master Chi, we’re at the gate! The security guard won’t let us in. Can you open the door?”
Chi Lin: “…”
They’re actually here?
…
Lou Mi had slept fitfully, waking up several times during the night, vaguely aware of a ringing doorbell.
She had assumed it was a dream and gone back to sleep.
She woke up with aching muscles, her mind foggy with a lingering sense of unease. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened.
The argument with Chi Lin.
She instantly regretted remembering. It would have been better to forget.
She went to the kitchen for breakfast and saw a figure moving outside the window. Chi Lin, practicing her martial arts, as usual.
Then another figure appeared.
And another.
And another.
Lou Mi: “??”
Grabbing the robot vacuum as a weapon, she cautiously opened the window a crack.
She stared at the scene in the courtyard, stunned.
Is this… a senior citizen exercise class?
What were all these elderly people doing in her yard, practicing martial arts?
She recognized them as her grandparents’ opera enthusiast friends.
And Chi Lin’s newly acquired disciples.
Mr. Yan, leading the group, his voice booming with enthusiasm, said, “Our Master Chi is a true gem! Not only can she sing Danzhou opera, but she’s also a martial arts master!”
The other disciples agreed. “Her Five Elements Fist is better than that old geezer at the senior center!”
“Following Master Chi is good for both body and soul!”
Chi Lin, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed at their noisy chatter, said, “Focus your minds and regulate your breathing. Silence is golden.”
The disciples immediately fell silent, mimicking her movements with varying degrees of success.
As Lou Mi was about to close the window, Chi Lin opened her eyes and saw her.
Lou Mi’s heart sank, remembering last night’s incident.
Chi Lin waved, inviting her to join them.
Is she not angry anymore?
Chi Lin continued waving, and Lou Mi, feeling guilty, reluctantly joined the elderly exercise group.
As she performed the unfamiliar movements, surrounded by elderly people, she thought, Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
Seeing Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan staring at her from the window, their expressions a mixture of amusement and bewilderment, she regretted her decision even more.
Was this Chi Lin’s plan all along? To lure me into this… geriatric exercise cult?
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