Standing Next To You-Chapter 541: Disappearing karmic ties

He turned around upon the old monk’s arrival.

"Did she leave?" the man asked.

The old monk nodded. "She left. She’s smart—I know she’ll find it soon."

The beggar-looking man smiled. "She will. Thank you for letting me catch a glimpse of her. She looks so different from the Bei Sangyun I once knew. There’s more life in her eyes. This life... it must have been good to her."

The old monk remained silent, his gaze fixed on the karmic threads around the man. Like the others, his threads had been severed. But unlike the rest, his karmic threads were vanishing at an alarming rate.

The price for what he had done—the act of interfering with the will of heaven—could only be paid with a great sacrifice... A silent sacrifice that would go unnoticed, unrecognized by the people of this world and the heavens.

The old monk sighed. "...You know what will happen, don’t you?"

"I do. The ’you’ from that life told me what was coming."

The beggar-looking man’s eyes softened with a smile. The sorrow that once clouded them was gone. "I am prepared."

He stood and gazed out the window. "The sun is about to set, isn’t it? Can you recommend a place with a good view?"

"The cliff to the north."

"Then I should get going. I don’t have much time left, do I?"

As the beggar-looking man prepared to leave, the old monk couldn’t help but ask,

"Won’t you regret this? No one will know of your noble sacrifice. No one will thank you for what you’ve done. She will never know."

"It’s better that she doesn’t."

The beggar-looking man gazed at the horizon. "I have lived a life filled with misery, regret, and pain. I have watched the people I cared about suffer and die. And yet, I—a worthless man—continued to live, left behind."

His smile was genuine, reflecting the peace in his heart. "Now, I can finally do something. I am at peace."

The old monk watched as he walked away, the karmic threads around him growing shorter and shorter...

This was the price for interfering with the way of heaven.

Placing his hands together, the old monk bowed deeply in the man’s direction.

"Amitabha."

........

The sun was setting. A beautiful orange glow stretched across the sky, embracing the peak of the northern cliff.

At the edge of the cliff, the beggar-looking man stood still, basking in the sun’s fading warmth. His gray hair shimmered in the golden light, and his eyes reflected the quiet beauty of the world.

He gazed at the sky, painted in breathtaking hues, while the mountain peaks before him were bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.

It was all beautiful.

"I’ve never seen the world this clearly before," he murmured. "It’s beautiful."

As the sun slowly descended, sinking beneath the horizon, he watched intently, never blinking. The darkness he had carried for decades—the regret, the remorse, the self-blame, and the pain—faded away along with the last light of day.

For the first time, he felt weightless.

"...I wish you all the best, Bei Sangyun," he whispered as the final sliver of sunlight disappeared from view.

And with it, so did his shadow.

The cliff remained silent and still, as if no one had ever been there at all.

...

A spoon clattered to the floor with a sharp clang.

Lin Sunji glanced at Lin Fei, who had suddenly frozen in place.

"Aren’t you going to pick it up?" she asked.

Tonight, the fourth branch had invited Lin Fei to dinner. The atmosphere had been lively, filled with cheerful conversation—until Lin Fei unexpectedly dropped his spoon.

He clutched his chest, his expression unreadable.

"What’s wrong? Are you okay?" Lin Sunji’s usual nonchalance shifted to concern. Lin Fei looked pale, distant—lost.

Noticing the shift in mood, Lin Sanju, Li Mei, and Lin Ruo turned their attention to him.

"What’s the matter?"

"Are you in pain? Does your chest hurt?"

"We should call a doctor—he’s not saying anything."

Li Mei was about to summon a maid when Lin Fei finally spoke. Pressing a hand to his chest, he muttered, "...I’m okay. It’s nothing serious."

"Are you sure?" Everyone’s eyes were filled with concern.

Lin Fei nodded. "I’m fine. I think I just need some rest. May I be excused for a moment?"

"Of course." Li Mei motioned for a servant to clear his plate. Lin Fei apologized for not finishing his meal before stepping away.

He returned to his room, still holding his chest.

Standing before the mirror, he stared at his own reflection, searching for answers.

He couldn’t explain it.

It was as if someone had reached into his chest, taken something out, and then put his heart back in place—but it didn’t feel the same.

His heart was still beating. Yet, something was missing.

What had he lost?

Walking onto the balcony, he gazed at the sky. The sun had just set, and the world was slipping into darkness.

He tried to think, but his mind refused to process anything.

Pressing his palm against his chest again, he felt it—something had left him. His heart had never felt so light before.

That night, for the first time in years, Lin Fei did not dream of the past.

The guilt, the regret, the remorse, the pain that had haunted him endlessly—gone.

As he stepped into the future, he finally lived the way he had always wanted—carefree, humorous, and devoted to those he cherished.

Yet, sometimes, as he watched the sun set, an unshakable feeling of loss would creep into his heart.

A loss he could never explain.

....

On the way to the helipad, Maid Ye Zhai remained silent.

She stole glances at Bei Sangyun from time to time, hesitant yet unable to suppress her curiosity.

Suddenly, Bei Sangyun came to a stop. She turned and met Maid Ye Zhai’s gaze.

"You can ask me, you know."

Maid Ye Zhai hesitated. The words she had heard earlier—they unsettled her. At first, she assumed they were just metaphors, the kind of cryptic speech monks liked to use. But the more she listened, the more it began to sound... literal.

She wanted to ask but wasn’t sure if she had the right to.

Meeting Bei Sangyun’s steady gaze, she finally mustered the courage to voice the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind.

"...When the monk mentioned rebirth... what did he mean?" freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Exactly what the word means."

"...Rebirth as in...?"

"A new life. Revival. Experiencing death and waking up, only to find oneself to be alive again."

Maid Ye Zhai: "...."

She was even more confused. She had assumed ’rebirth’ was a metaphor, not something to be taken literally.

Bei Sangyun noticed the uncertainty in her eyes. She glanced at the helipad in the distance, then at the long staircase leading down the mountain.

"Shall we take the stairs?" she suggested. "It’ll be a long story. And it might sound unbelievable. Will you care to listen?"

Maid Ye Zhai nodded without hesitation. "Of course, I will."

As they made their descent down the mountain, Bei Sangyun began to speak. She told Maid Ye Zhai everything—her experience of rebirth, the past life she had lived, her illness, her ending, and the second chance she had been given.

It wasn’t the first time she had shared her secret. But it was the first time she had spoken about it in such detail.

As the words left her lips, the memories of her past life felt strangely distant. Once, they had been raw wounds—now, they played in her mind like an old film. The bitterness had faded. The pain no longer clung to her. The hatred had vanished.

She told her story with a peaceful heart.

It didn’t matter if it sounded unbelievable, ridiculous, or like something out of a fantasy. It didn’t matter if it made her seem delusional.

She believed in Maid Ye Zhai. Even if she didn’t fully understand or believe her now, Bei Sangyun knew she was someone she could trust.

She did not regret telling her.

Just as she did not regret telling Fei Chuan.

She did not regret sharing the life she had once lived.