Chapter 49: Epilogue

Three days after the battle with the Disseminator, Yu Hua got up early.

He didn’t choose to transform and fly this time, but walked to the subway station.

So much had happened lately that Yu Hua actually preferred to spend a bit more time on the subway; only then could he let his mind drift in the waiting moments of the commute, letting go of all thoughts.

He followed the crowd out of the subway station and, as if on autopilot, made his way into Shui City Center Hospital, where the scent of disinfectant filled the air.

He took the elevator straight to the seventh floor, then, guided by memory and signboards, headed for the independent ward of the Department of Neurology.

He gently pushed open the door.

Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the blinds, casting dappled shadows over Anpelin’s peaceful sleeping face.

Yu Hua quietly walked to her bedside and sat down on the chair, his gaze settling calmly on her face, simply watching her sleep.

Who knows how much time passed before Anpelin’s long eyelashes fluttered a few times.

She rubbed her bleary eyes and sat up, her gaze dazed as it swept around the room before finally settling on Yu Hua.

“Human, what brings you to seek us…”

“Haven’t recognized me yet?”

Yu Hua reached out and gently ruffled her silvery hair.

“Lowly human, don’t touch my head…”

She slightly lifted her chin, doing her best to look dignified.

“I am the Blood Clan Sixth Princess—behavior this disrespectful would’ve cost you your head a thousand years ago.”

Though Anpelin said this, she still closed her eyes in obvious enjoyment.

After the Disseminator forcibly deepened her transformation, Anpelin’s consciousness was often occupied by those chaotic Blood Clan memories, making her speak in all sorts of strange lines.

Fortunately, she still occasionally recognized him as her boyfriend, which reassured him—the real her hadn’t vanished, just temporarily lost.

“Want some breakfast? I brought you some steamed buns.”

Yu Hua picked up a still-warm bag from the bedside table, carefully broke off a small piece, and brought it to her lips.

“I want to drink blood. How could the coarse food of humans ever satisfy the hunger of the Blood Clan?”

She turned her face away stubbornly, but the alluring scent of the bun lingered at her nose.

After a few seconds’ stalemate, she first snuck a touch with her lips, and then, unable to resist, quickly flicked her tongue out, rolling that little piece of bun into her mouth and chewing.

Yu Hua patiently broke off bits of the bun and fed her.

As he did so, he spoke—not sure if it was to her, or just to himself.

“I have to pick up Lin Ling this afternoon… then prepare for his funeral. For the next few days, I probably won’t be able to visit you as often, so you’ll have to listen to the doctors and behave, okay?”

Anpelin took a few bites, apparently finding the flavor agreeable.

She no longer declared any Blood Clan manifestos, just focused on eating in small, concentrated bites, occasionally signaling with her eyes for him to hurry up.

“You know, I really didn’t know how thin Lin Ling’s family situation was before. Not only are his parents divorced, his mother grew up in an orphanage and has barely any relatives or friends. If I weren’t helping, I really don’t know how she’d manage all this on her own…”

“What’s even trickier is that he’s Liu Jin’s heir. His mother struggled so hard, and just as her son started to earn money, suddenly he’s gone. It’s like the sky’s fallen for her. I don’t even know if the chat logs on my phone can count as proof that Lin Ling and Liu Jin are the same person. Otherwise, there might be a lawsuit over the inheritance…”

He rambled on, as if trying to pour out all the troubles and heaviness weighing on his heart with words.

Anpelin just quietly gnawed at the bun, blinking occasionally; it was hard to tell if she understood or not.

Time slipped by quietly, and it was time to say goodbye.

Yu Hua stood up, tidied her quilt, and waved lightly:

“I’m off. Get some good rest.”

***

Leaving the hospital, he hailed a cab and headed straight for the Funeral Home in the suburbs.

Inside the rather cold and empty hall, Lin Ling’s mother, Ms. Gui Shiyue, stood alone to one side, her figure frail.

She managed a tired smile when she saw Yu Hua.

“Aunt Gui, are you alright? Please get some rest. Let me take care of the rest.”

“Xiao Yu, I have to trouble you again…”

Gui Shiyue’s voice was hoarse, her eyes swollen—she’d clearly just wiped away tears.

“It’s nothing. Lin Ling was my brother; I’ve given him plenty of trouble too.”

Yu Hua forced himself to perk up—there was still a busy afternoon ahead.

For the next several hours, Yu Hua barely had a moment to rest.

He stayed by Aunt Gui’s side as she confirmed the procedures, prepared for the memorial, coordinated with the Funeral Home staff, and handled all manner of necessary but trivial arrangements.

Only when everything was temporarily in order did Yu Hua, unnoticed by anyone, make his way to that cold, flower-covered platform.

Lin Ling lay there quietly.

His features, carefully arranged, looked unusually peaceful—as if he were only sleeping, yet never to awaken.

Yu Hua found a chair nearby and sat down, feeling as if all the strength had been drained from his body in an instant.

He stared at that familiar face—now lifeless—and finally couldn’t hold back his words.

“Brother Lin, why did you have to save me? I can heal myself! If you’d just stitched your own wound a little better, I wouldn’t have run out of magic trying to save you.”

“And it wasn’t just this time, either. That time too, you fought wrong. You just had to tie her hands—if you’d tied her waist instead, we’d have won, right? She couldn’t possibly cut herself in half.”

Yu Hua grumbled and cursed, trying desperately to hold back his tears, but they quickly blurred his vision.

Today was the third day since Lin Ling’s passing.

According to custom, Lin Ling’s mother, as his only family, had to keep vigil.

Yu Hua, of course, couldn’t sleep either, and kept Aunt Gui company in the Mourning Hall from nightfall all the way to midnight.

Only when the Funeral Home staff came and softly urged them to leave did he help the nearly exhausted Gui Shiyue back to her nearby hotel.

Yu Hua also got a room at the same hotel, but lying in bed, he only felt restless, tossing and turning.

A strange, indescribable anxiety drove him to get up. In the room, he transformed into Shui Hua and slipped out through the window.

She went straight back to the now-empty Mourning Hall, walking to Lin Ling’s side, where he lay quietly among the flowers.

“Tomorrow—oh wait, it’s already today. Like this, I can’t attend your memorial. So, I’ll come early to say goodbye now.”

“Even though you always suspected I was Yu Hua, it’s not like you ever found any real evidence. So maybe… we can just treat us as two separate people. The one standing here now is your junior, the Magical Girl who once saved you—Shui Hua—come to your memorial.”

“But you… why couldn’t you cherish the life I worked so hard to save? My power does have its limits…”

After a moment of silence, she suddenly seemed to remember something.

Her tone turned a little defiant, as if issuing a challenge:

“That’s right, didn’t you always say I never gave you a chance? Well, here’s your chance: if you can come back to life right now, I’ll never change back—I’ll immediately become your girlfriend. Don’t tell me you can’t even do that?”

The Mourning Hall remained silent as ever.

Tears welled up at the corners of Shui Hua’s eyes and finally slipped down.

She raised her voice, half-furious:

“Useless! I told you to resurrect—did you hear me? Are you deaf?”

Agitated, she instinctively raised her hand, mustered a bit of magic, and tossed it at Lin Ling.

It was her Healing Magic—much weaker than when she was transformed.

It couldn’t possibly save Lin Ling; it was just a way to vent her feelings.

But the moment Shui Hua’s magic touched the broken Sun Necklace pendant on Lin Ling’s chest, a dazzling golden light burst from the necklace.

The radiance instantly filled the dim Mourning Hall, enveloping Lin Ling’s body in gold.

In the blink of an eye, the person lying among the flowers transformed into the Magical Girl Liu Jin.

And what was even more unbelievable—Liu Jin’s eyelids trembled, and a faint rise and fall began in her chest.

Shui Hua was utterly stunned, her mind blank, and she blurted out instinctively:

“Huh? Re… really resurrected?”