She’s a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist’s Halo

Hearing ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‍Xu Jiaojiao's words, Yan couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Dogs are so adorable—don’t insult them," she said.

Yet, judging by Jiaojiao's expression, the status of those two male guests in her eyes was obvious.

Though Yan didn’t understand why Jiaojiao, who had been reborn, still bothered to "entangle" with them, her clearly detached and insincere attitude reassured Yan.

Might as well let Jiaojiao enjoy her whimsical games!

Yan propped her chin in her hand and observed the two male guests. Objectively speaking, their tall, elegant figures gliding in circles were undeniably a sight to behold on the ice rink.

Of course, one shouldn’t look too closely—sharp eyes would quickly notice their faces stiffening and flushing, ruining the overall charm.

Xu Jiaojiao occasionally glanced up, as if absentmindedly watching a circus act.

Her eyes held not a trace of emotion.

"Let them freeze. Their brains are full of water anyway—might as well solidify it," Jiaojiao remarked coolly.

The standoff between the two men did nothing to disrupt Xu Jiaojiao and Yan’s fun. However, their teamwork couldn’t compare to that of the genius twins.

With two double ice sleds leaving Zhu Jue alone, they soon switched to single sleds, forming a playful "train."

Five single sleds linked together instantly became the center of attention on the rink. Others even joined in with their own sleds, and soon a long, wobbling "dragon" of laughter and coordination snaked across the ice.

By then, neither Wen Yu nor Ji Mingyan could do anything but watch from the sidelines. The train had grown too long—even if they joined now, they’d only be relegated to the very end.

As Yan, Zhu Jue, Jiaojiao, and the twins raced and laughed across the ice, she had no idea Gu Jiasui had already arrived in Ning City.

……

Ning City, Hundred Herbs Hall—an ancient medical clinic.

Xiao Qingnang led Gu Jiasui through the alleyways to his modern-day home.

Wrapped in a woolen hat, scarf, and a mask beneath, his level of bundling rivaled that of Gu Jiasui, a celebrity.

Xiao Qingnang shut the courtyard gate and slid the latch into place, exhaling softly in relief.

Carrying Jiasui’s bag, he guided her inside.

Jiasui surveyed the courtyard—a two-sectioned antique residence, meticulously restored and modernized while preserving its historical charm.

She held up the heavy door curtain for him as they stepped into the warmth of the interior.

The spacious room retained its traditional layout but featured glass windows, blending old and new.

True to Xiao Qingnang’s habits, the space was divided into inner and outer chambers by a pale blue curtain. The inner area served as a living quarters, while the outer housed a study.

Jiasui’s gaze immediately landed on the shelves of ancient medical texts and classics, the well-kept bamboo on the desk, and—most strikingly—the *Jianing Notes* placed prominently among the books.

The rush of indoor warmth made her exhale a visible breath. She watched as Xiao Qingnang removed his scarf and hat, his hair now adorably disheveled, strands sticking up in every direction.

The usually composed and gentle man seemed entirely unaware of his ruffled appearance, and Jiasui couldn’t help but laugh.

Xiao Qingnang blinked in confusion at her reaction. He glanced around the room, which he’d already cleaned twice in preparation for her visit.

Clueless, his momentarily bewildered expression only made him more endearing.

Even in his perplexed state, the striking young man—dressed in a dark gray sweater and black trousers—looked effortlessly charming.

"Don’t take off your coat yet—the temperature difference is too drastic," he said, setting her bag down before hurriedly accepting the scarf she’d removed.

Jiasui wordlessly switched her phone to selfie mode and held it up to him. Taking it, Xiao Qingnang chuckled at his own reflection.

"My hair has a mind of its own."

"Meow~~"

"Mrrow~~"

From the moment she’d entered, Pangpang, the cat, had been calling out. The little feline was clearly not in the outer chamber.

Jiasui hesitated, glancing at Xiao Qingnang, who promptly drew back the blue curtain dividing the space.

"Go right in."

Pangpang’s cozy nest sat beside the bed, with an electric heater nearby and a quaint cabinet stocked with supplies—hot water bottles, syringes, goat’s milk powder, and cat food.

Despite the enclosed space, the air carried only a faint, refreshing herbal fragrance.

"Good Pangpang!"

In two quick strides, Jiasui was at the cat’s side. The little kitten, energized at the sight of her, stretched its paws eagerly, tiny feet wiggling with excitement.

Gu Jiasui reached out her hand, then quickly withdrew it, for her palms felt chilly. Though a cat’s body temperature differs from a human’s, she didn’t want the kitten to feel the cold.

Her down jacket still carried the winter chill from outside, making it impossible for her to pick up the kitten just yet.

For now, Gu Jiasui could only extend her warm fingertips, lightly tapping the little cat’s head and pink paws.

“Pangpang, did you miss me this much?”

“I missed you too.”

A warm hand warmer was promptly placed in her palm. She watched as Xiao Qingnang brought over a chair, already fitted with a cushion.

Her gaze flickered as she noticed the brand-new hand warmer, still bearing its tag but fully charged. “Thank you,” she murmured, accepting it.

With one hand nestled in the warmth, the other continued playing with Pangpang using just her fingertips.

Only when her left hand had warmed up did Gu Jiasui switch hands to properly pet the kitten.

“So good, so good. How is Pangpang this well-behaved?”

“Whose little baby is this?”

“Mine, of course.”

Her voice was soft and tender. Seeing Pangpang about to lick her fingers with its tiny tongue, she immediately stood and turned to Xiao Qingnang.

“Wu Jiu, I’d like to wash my hands.”

The renovated old house now included a separate washroom. After removing her down jacket, Gu Jiasui washed her hands, dried them, and warmed them in the hand warmer before returning to pamper Pangpang once more.

She gently squeezed Pangpang’s little face, stroked its head, and playfully rubbed its paws and feet. A week without touching the kitten had left her restless, but now, her heart felt at ease.

Though she received daily photos and videos, and even video-called when free, seeing Pangpang in person was entirely different.

Watching Pangpang’s legs twitch vigorously, now able to kick with more strength, her eyes lit up with joy as she turned to Xiao Qingnang.

“The left leg’s range of motion is much better than before.”

He nodded, a faint smile touching his lips.

“Mhm. These past few days, perhaps because of the change in environment, the acupuncture has been more effective. Today, when Pangpang got excited, the movement was even more noticeable.”

The two of them observed as Pangpang wagged its tail, the motion noticeably stronger too.

“Meow~” The kitten, basking in Gu Jiasui’s affection, half-closed its eyes before peering in Xiao Qingnang’s direction.

It let out a series of urgent meows, leaving the two puzzled.

“Am I petting you wrong?” Gu Jiasui loosened her grip slightly, but Pangpang only meowed more insistently.

Xiao Qingnang quickly recorded the sounds and sent them via text to Yi Lude, the animal expert they’d met on the high-speed train.

Yi Lude replied almost instantly with a voice message:

“Your fur baby is crying out—‘Mom’s finally here! I want both Mom and Dad to pet me together!’”

The voice message played loudly, every word unmistakably reaching Gu Jiasui’s ears.

Her brow arched slightly, but she remained silent as both of their hands continued massaging Pangpang.

Xiao Qingnang cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s the animal expert we met in the pet-friendly carriage on the train back home.”

He hesitated before admitting, “I should’ve explained earlier. My mistake.”

Hanging his head, he stole a glance at her expression, then quickly focused on stroking Pangpang’s head.

“I know,” Gu Jiasui said calmly.

“Yan told me about that day.”

In truth, on their way back from Bin City to Ning City, Gu Jiasui had been in constant contact with Yan, worried about Pangpang. Even Xiao Qingnang’s act of saving someone had been narrated to her in real time.

When he later trended online, she had anticipated it and swiftly suppressed the hot search to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Xiao Qingnang blinked in surprise as she continued, “Being called ‘Mom and Dad’ is just a term of endearment nowadays. People online even ‘adopt’ strangers as family, let alone the long-standing tradition of honorary kinship.”

“Still,” she paused,

“To be recognized as the closest ‘parents’ by a kitten—that’s an honor for both of us.”

This was Pangpang’s way of acknowledging their care. Nothing more.

Gu Jiasui lowered her gaze briefly before shifting the topic. “After returning, have many people come looking for you?”

Though she’d handled the hot search, she wasn’t entirely aware of the situation in Ning City.

At this, Xiao Qingnang’s expression turned weary.

“There’ve been quite a few. That’s why we took the back entrance today.”

“In the dead of winter, it’s hard to turn them away outright.”

He lived in the rear courtyard’s side rooms. The two-section compound housed the ancient medical clinic—Hundred Herbs Hall—in the front courtyard and reception rooms, while the area beyond the second gate was reserved for private living.

Even though today’s consultation hours had long ended, and all appointments were filled, there were always those who lingered outside, unwilling to leave.

For nearly a week, Xiao Qingnang had not appeared in the front courtyard of the clinic. According to his uncle, many patients—both human and animal—had come seeking him out, some even holding up their phones as they entered, while others outright asked to see the cat.

"Fame weighs heavy, like a fattened pig. Now I understand how Chu Shen must have felt."

In this era, news spreads too quickly. Many people follow blindly without thought, and destroying a person’s reputation has become all too easy.

Whether in traditional or Western medicine, even the smallest scandal can ruin a career.

The Hundred Herbs Traditional Medicine Clinic had originally served only the local neighborhood residents. It wasn’t until Xiao Qingnang arrived in this world a few years ago and gradually demonstrated his medical skills that the clinic gained some renown, drawing more and more patients.

Xiao Qingnang wasn’t sure whether it was better now or in the past when a healer faced baseless slander.

In this world, the law upheld equality for all, so at least there was no longer the risk of being unjustly imprisoned and suffering bodily harm.

But then again, the swift, lethal power of online mobs—the malice of those who acted without understanding—was that truly any lighter a burden?

Most people had good hearts, but if they acted without knowing the truth, their "good deeds" might not be so good after all.

Gu Jiasui wore a pure white cashmere sweater, the indoor heating making her feel uncomfortably warm.

The kitten, Pengpeng, had fallen asleep under their soothing care. The two of them slowly raised their hands, watching it quietly for a moment before carefully retreating from the inner room.

Not wanting to wake the kitten, they spoke in hushed tones in the outer room.

Seeing her fan herself with her hand, Xiao Qingnang passed her a folding fan from the desk.

Gu Jiasui took it, flicking it open absentmindedly and waving it a few times. Then, catching sight of the calligraphy and painting on it, she froze.

Her eyelids twitched at the sight of the artist’s signature. She lifted her gaze to meet his.

In the silence between them, they could hear each other’s breathing.

"Tomorrow, you…" Xiao Qingnang began.

Gu Jiasui spoke softly, "I’m going to the Forbidden City tomorrow. It’s a resource Lin Lu and Yan introduced to me."

"They’re filming the show *Treasures Through Time* on Monday, when the museum is closed to the public."

"The day after, I’ll be recording at the national broadcaster—probably the whole day."

Xiao Qingnang listened intently. "The day after that is Wednesday. The clinic is closed to the public, so it’ll be convenient for you to come."

He paused. "Zhu Jue and Yan might come too."

Gu Jiasui nodded slightly, tapping the fan in her hand as if casually asking,

"Where did you buy this fan? Are there more?"

Xiao Qingnang was silent for a long moment. His lashes fluttered as if hesitating, but after restraining himself for so long, he finally voiced the question in his heart.

"You recognized it too?"

Gu Jiasui’s ears perked up. "*You recognized it too*?"

"Zhu Jue gave it to me. The calligraphy on it… is from an old friend of mine."

Xiao Qingnang felt like the "self-revealing wolf" in the games Yuan Ye always talked about.

He didn’t know what had come over him today, as if some inexplicable force had urged him to lay bare the identity he had so carefully concealed in this modern world—right in front of her.

He was not *her* old acquaintance.

But to Xiao Qingnang, *she* was his.

Even though it had been many, many years, and she might have long forgotten.

"You were acquainted with General Ninghai?"

At this moment, Gu Jiasui was genuinely stunned.

The reason she recognized the calligraphy on the fan was that she had once seen it when her cousin, the emperor, received news of the great victory in the East Sea. Overjoyed, he had brought the military dispatch—and later, the battle report written by the general himself—straight to her princess estate, wanting her to share in the triumph.

At the time, however, Gu Jiasui had already been bedridden for a long time. Still, she had carefully read every report about General Dong Yuanzhi’s campaigns.

From that impassioned battle report, she had glimpsed the victory unfolding thousands of miles from the capital.

Now, recalling it, she realized that report had never mentioned him.

But there had been rumors—how General Ninghai, who had abandoned scholarship for the sword, had narrowly escaped death multiple times during his illustrious campaigns, saved only by the skills of the army’s physicians.

"Were you the physician in General Ninghai’s army?"

Her hand trembled slightly as she held the fan, her gaze at him growing distant.

What a twist of fate, what a mockery of destiny. The princess estate had searched the world for a miracle healer, never realizing he had been just one battle report away.

He closed his eyes. After the East Sea campaign, two veteran generals had been gravely wounded. While General Ninghai returned to the capital ahead of the others, Xiao Qingnang and the deputy generals arrived later…

"I returned to the capital… a step too late," he said, his voice strained.

Gu Jiasui absentmindedly flicked the fan open, then shut, then open again, feeling the cruel irony of fate press down on her.

With a sharp *snap*, she closed the fan. The two of them stood in silence.

"What’s past is past," she murmured.

"Perhaps this meeting now… is the heavens allowing us to walk this life anew."

Gu Jiasui didn’t know what had become of him afterward. But if they had both come to this world, perhaps they had both carried regrets.

She looked up into his eyes, her crimson lips parting slightly as she uttered three words:

"Look forward."

The wheels of history roll ceaselessly onward, and those born in this era should not drown themselves in the past.

What’s done is done.

This was the mantra she had always repeated to herself.

"So, Wu Jiu, let’s talk about them."

Gu Jiasui let out a soft laugh. Though she had mentally prepared herself, she hadn’t expected him to lay his cards on the table so abruptly under such peculiar circumstances today.

The room was so quiet that the hum of the air conditioner and the faint purring of the little cat, Pengpeng, could be heard.

Gu Jiasui sat by the tea table, slowly unfolding a fan before picking up her phone to retrieve a photo he had sent her earlier.

"You’ve suspected it before, haven’t you?" she asked, her gaze fixed on him.

Xiao Qingnang nodded. "Zhu Jue gifted each of us in the dormitory a fan—all painted by General Dong."

"According to what Yuanzhi once told me, aside from palace memorials and battle reports, there were no surviving calligraphy or paintings from that era—except for the numerous fans he painted as a young man for his benefactor."

Hearing this, a flicker of emotion passed through Gu Jiasui’s beautiful eyes. She murmured softly, "Benefactor?"

"I initially thought the fans might have been passed down through their family over generations or acquired from some collector," Xiao Qingnang continued.

"But if Yan and Zhu Jue were Yuanzhi’s benefactors from back then, wouldn’t their ages be mismatched?"

Gu Jiasui handed him her phone, the image on the screen still puzzling Xiao Qingnang.

"Isn’t this the one I sent you earlier? What’s the issue?"

"The clothing—it’s the craftsmanship of the Caiyun Tailor in the capital, completely different from the antique-style garments people wear today."

Xiao Qingnang’s teacup clinked as he carefully set it down. He scrutinized the photo again but still couldn’t discern anything unusual.

For him, distinguishing men’s attire might have been easier, but women’s clothing was beyond his recognition.

Noticing his futile effort, Gu Jiasui shook her head and sighed. "I won’t press you further."

"But I’ve searched both online and in-person, and I’ve never found anything like this dress. The gold and jade ornaments were also the fashion of that era."

At her words, Xiao Qingnang’s fingers tensed slightly, and both frowned simultaneously.

"Then where did this photo come from?"

Gu Jiasui nodded. "That’s exactly what puzzles me."

She took a sip of the warm pear soup from her cup.

"If they’re from the same era as us, perhaps they’ve had a similar experience. But... Yan seemed to recognize me from the very beginning."

She recounted the matter of the imperial scrolls—the "Jianing Style" of calligraphy didn’t emerge until later generations.

"If Yan is from a later time and noticed something odd in the paintings I gave her, it would be absurd for her to suspect I’m from the past."

"Besides, if she’s truly from the present, how do we explain these period-accurate clothes and accessories?"

Gu Jiasui felt trapped in a paradox regarding the identities of Yan and Zhu Jue—two contradictory answers tangled in confusion.

"There’s one more thing," Xiao Qingnang added thoughtfully.

"When you found Pengpeng, we weren’t close yet." His voice was gentle.

Gu Jiasui met his gaze, and realization dawned on them both at the same time.

"But Yan sought you out directly."

"But Yan messaged me directly."

Rubbing her temples, Gu Jiasui carefully retraced her memories.

"At the time, I was worried sick about Pengpeng, but Yan kept reassuring me, saying you came from an ancient medical family and would definitely heal her."

Back then, in her distress, she hadn’t noticed anything strange. But now, as they pieced it together, their eyes clouded with bewilderment.

Xiao Qingnang hesitated before speaking. "While I’ve mentioned my family’s medical background in the dorm, I never said anything about veterinary skills."

This, he was certain of.

So how had Yan known to approach him?

Before the four of them had even met, before Xiao Qingnang had examined Pengpeng, Yan had already confidently assured Gu Jiasui of his abilities.

"I don’t recall ever meeting them in the past," Gu Jiasui said.

"Or perhaps... I just don’t remember."

Xiao Qingnang massaged his forehead, his brow furrowed as his gaze swept over her delicate, striking features.

"I don’t remember treating them either—not even a flicker of familiarity."

His memory was exceptional; medical cases, herbology, and pulse diagnostics were ingrained in his mind. Every patient he had ever treated, he could recall by face the moment he took their pulse.

Just like the woman before him—a fleeting glimpse from their youth, her noble bearing beneath layers of silk robes, a few exchanged words on a bustling street—all etched permanently in his heart.

But as for Yan and Zhu Jue? No trace of them existed in his memories.

So how had they known of his medical skills? Through hearsay in the common folk?

Yet now, all that remains of me in this era centuries later are the "anecdotes and oddities" recorded by later generations as mere folklore.

"So it seems, they must have known our identities all along," Xiao Qingnang remarked with a peculiar expression.

But even if they knew, whether it was Yan or Zhu Jue, they treated them no differently from any other roommate.

"Compared to them, our adaptation to modern life still falls far short," Gu Jiasui mused.

If not for their conversation today, where they laid bare their suspicions—and the subtle clues Yan and Zhu Jue had inadvertently revealed—they might never have noticed any traces of their past lives, even after spending so much time together.

Xiao Qingnang kept the schedule of an "old cadre," and Gu Jiasui, too, struggled to shake off old habits. But Yan and Zhu Jue, that young couple, were the epitome of modern college students—staying up late, living it up.

The two of them scrolled through the couple’s social media posts, comparing notes, searching for further hints.

As she browsed, Gu Jiasui suddenly came across their summer travel logs—visits to Chang’an City, Xianyang City.

The First Emperor’s quest for immortality.

Her finger paused. Softly, she spoke: "Wu Jiu, if people like us can be reborn centuries later..."

"Then could there also be those who retain their memories through reincarnation... or even those who live forever?"

Xiao Qingnang was momentarily stunned. Slowly, he replied, "The world is vast, full of wonders."

"Even by today’s standards, the things they know are... excessive." Gu Jiasui began counting on her fingers.

Calligraphy, painting, musical instruments, antique appraisal, medicine, marksmanship... The more she listed, the more startling it became.

"Those two... seem to dabble in everything," Xiao Qingnang said.

They exchanged a glance, understanding passing wordlessly between them.

How else could one acquire so many refined skills, if not through lifetimes of cyclical reincarnation and time?

"Upon closer inspection, nothing stands out too conspicuously, yet every skill is mastered—hiding brilliance behind modesty," Gu Jiasui murmured.

"The greatest concealment is in plain sight; obscurity veils their light," he echoed quietly.

Two people who could recognize figures from over two centuries ago, who knew their later achievements, who spanned eras yet lived in the present...

If not immortals, what else could Yan and Zhu Jue be?