Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Just before dawn, Wen Jin took her away from the hospital.

His car was parked at the back entrance, a vintage sedan as pitch-black as the night itself. Once Shen Wu climbed inside, she realized the windows were completely covered with light-blocking film. The back seat held sealed silver cases, sedatives, and rows of blood bags, making it feel like a mobile, temporary coffin.

“Is this how you usually live?” she asked.

Wen Jin started the car, his profile cold, pale, and quiet. “Usually, no one unleashes a feral in a hospital to hunt you.”

The car drove all the way to the abandoned Sacred Heart Church on the west side of the city. The church’s exterior had long been boarded up, but there was a hidden space underground. Wen Jin opened a secret door and led her down to the seventh level. Only then did Shen Wu see the place that truly belonged to him.

A black stone sarcophagus, walls lined with old books, silver weapons, and seventeen numbered pocket watches.

Inside every pocket watch was a photograph of a woman from a different era, yet each bore a striking resemblance to her.

Shen Wu’s fingertips went cold.

“How long have you been stalking me?”

“They all asked that same question.” Wen Jin put away the last pocket watch, his voice very soft. “You aren’t them. You are the same person.”

He took a roll of yellowed parchment from the top shelf and spread it out on a long table. In the center of the map was a bleeding moon, surrounded by a string of Ancient Script she couldn’t understand. Wen Jin’s finger pointed to one of the patterns; it was identical to the crescent moon Birthmark on the back of her neck.

“Two hundred years ago, you used your own blood to bind us with the ‘Return to Ashes Pact’,” he said. “You will reincarnate again and again after you die, and I will always remember. As long as the blood pact exists, Lu Changye will never let you go.”

Shen Wu stared at the script, finding it all absurd. “Why should I believe you?”

As if he had expected this, Wen Jin reached up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing a brand an inch below his collarbone.

It wasn’t just a mark; it was an old scar that nearly ran through his chest. At the end of the scar, a thin silver nail was embedded.

“You hammered this in yourself,” Wen Jin said. “You said that if I ever hurt you to save my own life, I should let you be the one to kill me.”

Shen Wu’s breath hitched.

Strange images suddenly flashed through her mind.

Red robes, candlelight, a snowy night. A blood-stained hand pressed against her heart as someone leaned down to kiss her brow, whispering, “Ah Wu, don’t be afraid.”

The next second, a violent headache struck. Shen Wu gripped the edge of the table, nearly collapsing to her knees. Wen Jin quickly supported her, his cold palm pressing against the back of her neck. Those fragmented images immediately receded, leaving only his eyes inches away from hers.

“Don’t force it,” he said. “The memories will hurt you.”

Shen Wu grabbed his sleeve, her voice trembling. “Did I… really know you before?”

Wen Jin looked at her as if looking at a dawn that had been delayed for a very long time.

“You did,” he said. “And you loved me.”