Chapter 361 - Existential Crisis and the Artist

Afterwards, Yujia and Zixu chatted some more. The rest of their conversations were lighthearted, no longer focusing on serious topics like marriage. With the brightening of the conversation, Yujia found her mind being distracted from the stress as well, her mood improving steadily.

From morning, afternoon came. The two of them paired the wine with some decent lunch cooked by Chef Hong, spending some more time together. Considering how they finally had time together, it was a rare opportunity Yujia treasured well. She talked more with Zixu that day than any of the other days that had passed since she came back to the capital after the trip.

But good times couldn't last forever. By late noon, Zixu had to return home. Yujia was sad to see him go, but she understood.

She walked him to the exit of the villa, their hands still held together.

"Thanks for accompanying me today," she said with a smile.

"And thank you for everything you planned today," he replied, expression similar to hers.

"Will you have time tomorrow?" she asked. She always asked these questions. On some days, Zixu said yes, and others no. His schedule, to her, was always unpredictable.

Today turned out to be one of the "yes" days. 

He answered, "I will. I'll be sure to pay you a visit."

She brightened up. "I'll be waiting for you, then."

Her hand lingered in his for another moment, and then, he let go. With a slight nod of his head, Zixu gave his farewell. He turned. She watched the back of his figure as he walked away, vanishing into the snow-filled backdrop.

Sighing, Yujia turned as well, closing the door of the villa. She made her way back to her courtyard, sitting down at the stone table. 

Her eyes went to the plum tree, snow now coating its branches. The snow falling from the sky was not heavy, but like Zixu said, it wasn't stopping anytime soon either. Yujia clutched her cloak to herself a little closer, then propped her elbows up on the table, resting her chin on the palms of her hands.

Now that Zixu was gone, and she was alone with her thoughts, she thought of the things they talked about earlier.

An idea emerged from her thoughts, an idea she hadn't worried about before.

How much time did she have in this world?

The world was real. It had to be, with just how concrete everything felt. These experiences that she went through couldn't be fake. The people that she talked with, day to day, couldn't be made up. 

It bothered her that the era she lived in had the Xiang Empire, an empire which hadn't existed in the history of Chinese empires and dynasties. Yet with how everything before this time coincided perfectly with what had happened in history up to this year, and again, with her own experiences, she didn't feel like any of this was fake.

But it just took a bottle of paint to land her in this world. Was it possible to return to her old life? What would happen if she did?

She didn't want to be back there again.

Ever.

She recalled the stories her master told her about. His wife, Wei Yunjing, was a transmigrator like her. She spent years in this world, never vanishing and transmigrating back to her old world, as far as Yujia knew.

That story assured her. 

She wouldn't wake up one day back in her old body. At least, that was what Yujia hoped. She hoped transmigration would follow a pattern. If it hadn't happened to Wei Yunjing, it wouldn't happen to her, right?

Still, the idea that she could wake up one day, gone from everything she built up in this life, terrified her.

The thought of marriage was what brought all these worries up. Marriage was supposed to be a permanent thing. Yet to Yujia, sitting here, where she couldn't even feel secure about her own existence, how was she supposed to see it all as permanent?

Yujia tried to convince herself that she was being silly, but if she knew anything, it should've been that she was the hardest person she could try to convince.

To think earlier today, she thought all her worries were lifted. That there was nothing else to be concerned about in this world.

But, she figured, these were her thoughts. Though she knew it would be a difficult task to convince herself, she learned from all the past years of practice that she could push those thoughts away. Somewhat. She could let them fester in the back of her mind until she remembered them again. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would work for now.

Standing up, Yujia decided she would make herself productive for the rest of the day. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and do nothing, but from experience, she knew that once she did that, there would be no getting up.

Right as she turned to fetch materials for painting, however, that was when she heard footsteps.

They were rushed footsteps, the sound of heavy, panicked breathing following them. The footsteps were so loud that she couldn't help but notice them, her head snapping to look at where they were coming from.

From the entrance of her courtyard, Ye Yunhe broke in, almost stumbling over his own feet. He lurched over dangerously. Yujia rushed forward, catching him before he fell. 

Yunhe was never like this. He never ran around so carelessly. He never cared so little about his appearance, how others perceived him.

But now, as Yujia looked into his eyes, she could see a wave of alarm in his gaze that she had never seen before.

"What is it?" Yujia blurted, her voice coming out in a sharper tone than she intended. With Yunhe in such a state, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as well. "What happened?" she followed up with another question, this time making sure that her voice was less sharp.

"It's…" Yunhe could barely speak with how out-of-breath he was, gripping her arms tightly. "It's Master," he managed to make out.

Before, sometimes Yunhe would come over to her courtyard, under the command of their master. In those times, he would say "it's Master" as well, but these statements were always paired with an exasperated roll of his eyes, along with a declaration that he was sent here to fetch her or convey some silly message.

Never did he look at her, trembling, eyes watering, jaw tense.

Yujia knew that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Master?" she echoed after him, her voice nothing more than a whisper as well.