Chapter 43: Secret
When Jiang Chenghan returned home, Yan Jingshu had already woken up. However, because he was still feeling weak and unwell, he didn’t get out of bed. Instead, he leaned against the headboard in his clothes, staring blankly at a spot in the distance, lost in thought. His complexion was still poor, and he didn’t even notice Jiang Chenghan’s footsteps entering the room.
It wasn’t until Jiang Chenghan sat down by the bed that Yan Jingshu suddenly noticed someone in front of him. He finally lifted his head and saw that Jiang Chenghan had returned. Instinctively, he asked, “Why are you back so early?”
Jiang Chenghan smiled and said, “General Kou heard you were sick, and since there’s nothing urgent at the Governor's residence right now, he gave me another day off to take care of you.”
Yan Jingshu couldn’t help but press his lips together in a small smile. “So that’s how it is. Next time I see General Kou, I’ll have to thank him.”
“I’ve already thanked him for you,” Jiang Chenghan replied, then reached out to touch Yan Jingshu’s forehead. “How are you feeling? Is there anywhere that still hurts?”
Yan Jingshu shook his head with a smile. He opened his mouth to speak again but suddenly remembered something. His smile froze slightly, and a trace of unease flickered in his eyes as he looked at Jiang Chenghan.
Jiang Chenghan pretended not to notice. Seeing him shake his head, he said warmly, “Good, I’m glad you’re not in pain. You suddenly developed a high fever in the middle of the night and were delirious—it really scared me.”
“Delirious?” Yan Jingshu’s gaze flickered nervously as he asked, “Did you hear what I said?”
Seeing Yan Jingshu’s barely concealed tension, Jiang Chenghan sighed inwardly but still answered, “Of course I heard—very clearly. You kept saying, ‘Don’t die,’ and something about how you’d come back to save me…”
Yan Jingshu’s face instantly paled. His hands clenched the quilt tightly, his lips pressed together until they lost all color.
Jiang Chenghan’s heart ached for him. He leaned down to kiss the corner of Yan Jingshu’s lips, then gently pried his fingers open and held his hand. Softly, he asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
The sudden intimacy made Yan Jingshu’s cheeks flush slightly, but the unease in his eyes didn’t fade. He bit his lip, unable to speak for a long moment.
Jiang Chenghan sighed silently. After a pause, he finally spoke first. “Jingshu, do you believe in past lives and reincarnation?”
The words “past lives and reincarnation” struck Yan Jingshu like a thunderclap. His pupils constricted, and his face drained of color.
Jiang Chenghan saw it all and felt a pang of reluctance, but he couldn’t stop now. If it were any other matter, he wouldn’t push Yan Jingshu to speak. But whatever secret Yan Jingshu was hiding was clearly weighing heavily on him—enough that he’d spoken those words in the throes of feverish delirium.
He didn’t know what Yan Jingshu had been through, but he wanted him to understand that he was willing to share the burden. And to do that, Yan Jingshu needed to tell him everything.
Jiang Chenghan understood Yan Jingshu’s hesitation and didn’t want to force him outright. So last night, he had come up with a plan—though, in truth, it was something he should have done long ago.
“Jingshu, let me tell you a secret—one even my parents don’t know.” With a reassuring smile, Jiang Chenghan spoke gently.
The sudden shift in topic caught Yan Jingshu off guard, but the panic on his face lessened slightly.
“You know how, when a person’s lifespan ends, they’re supposed to drink Meng Po’s soup before reincarnating to forget their past life, right?” Jiang Chenghan said cheerfully, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. Yan Jingshu was even more confused but nodded reflexively.
[Meng Po’s Soup (孟婆汤): a mythical potion from Chinese folklore given to souls before reincarnation in the afterlife to erase all memories of their past lives, ensuring a clean slate for rebirth.]
Then Jiang Chenghan leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ll tell you this alone—when I reincarnated, I didn’t drink Meng Po’s soup.”
Yan Jingshu blinked, not immediately grasping what Jiang Chenghan meant. Jiang Chenghan didn’t explain further, just watched him quietly with a smile, giving him time to process.
Soon, realization dawned on Yan Jingshu. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “You—you also remember your past life?!”
“‘Also’?” Seizing the opportunity, Jiang Chenghan pressed, “Jingshu, does that mean you didn’t drink Meng Po’s soup either? You remember your past life too?”
Yan Jingshu stiffened, realizing his slip of tongue. He opened his mouth, wanting to deny it, but under Jiang Chenghan’s gaze, the lie wouldn’t come out.
After a long silence, he finally nodded—then shook his head. His voice was strained as he said, “I… didn’t avoid drinking Meng Po’s soup. Instead, I… I returned from over two years in the future, back to the day we first met—Grandmother’s birthday…”
“So that’s how it is.” Finally hearing the truth, Jiang Chenghan smiled, his expression one of complete lack of surprise.
Yan Jingshu, who had been terrified of being seen as a monster or demon, was stunned by Jiang Chenghan’s reaction.
“Y-you knew?” Yan Jingshu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Jiang Chenghan nodded with a smile. “I had my suspicions before, but I wasn’t certain. Now I can be sure.”
Without waiting for Yan Jingshu to ask, he continued, “Do you remember before our wedding, on the Mid-Autumn Festival, when I visited the Duke’s residence? Your father mentioned that you’d sought out someone from my hometown to learn a few dishes and had them prepared for me.”
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