Chapter 3

Failed to die.

The old butler and Auntie Li hovered around my hospital bed wearing funeral faces.

Sniffling. Sobbing.

So annoying.

What was this supposed to be?

I rolled over with my back to them. Didn’t even want to open my eyes.

I’d been reborn in my freshman year of college.

Utterly unhinged.

Once my sluggish brain started working, though, a few things I’d overlooked came to light.

For instance, my young, innocent wife ought to still be alive.

I shot upright, startling everyone.

Muttering “wife” over and over, I lurched toward the door like a madman, intent on getting out of the hospital.

I didn’t know much about An Yu.

Only that he went to A University and was an illegitimate son a rich family had taken back in.

I’d gone to A University in my previous life too, but none of those rumors had ever reached me.

I’d been too busy enjoying myself. Unless it was finals week, I barely set foot on campus.

I opened the door and ran straight into someone’s arms.

He grunted, instinctively catching me and steadying me against him.

“Are… are you all right?”

A soft, low voice, full of concern.

My hopeless heart started hammering again.

I looked up.

A pair of clear, captivating eyes gazed gently into mine.

My sweet-smelling, soft little wife!

In our previous life, I’d never asked how An Yu had lost his sight.

I’d only known it couldn’t be cured, and thought it was a shame.

“Young Master? Young Master?”

Seeing me stare fixedly at my rescuer as though the collision had knocked me stupid, the butler cleared his throat and tugged at me.

Twice. I didn’t budge.

He then quietly explained to An Yu that the crash might have done something to my brain.

“Young Master, if this student hadn’t brought you to the hospital, you could have been in serious danger. You owe him a proper thank-you.”

I didn’t really hear what he was saying.

All I knew was that An Yu was standing in front of me, alive.

Not a cold, lifeless urn.

“Wiiife…”

Eyes swimming with tears, I plastered myself against him.

An Yu clearly had no idea what to do. Red as a tomato, he let me hold him, stammering gentle reassurances.

“I’m not your wife. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and felt his warmth. My eyes stung. Burying my face against his collarbone, I gave him a gentle bite.

“You are my wife.”

In death. In this new life, too.

An Yu went stiff and gave me a feeble push, his thick lashes trembling.