Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 258; Lu Yuze 10

She had known. The moment her son’s voice, so full of contained joy, had formed the words "I saw her today," her entire world had re-centered. Nothing else had registered after that, not the talk of a husband, not the human circumstances, not the lingering mysteries.

Just those four, life-altering words: I saw her today.

Her daughter was alive. Was well. Was healthy, even.

The rest, the marriage, the human man, the stepchildren, the hows and whys, she could process later. It was a puzzle for another day. Right now, all that mattered was the profound, bone-deep relief flooding her veins, warming parts of her that had been numb for centuries.

Alive.

She let herself breathe, a deep, deliberate inhale that filled lungs which had felt shallow for years. It was the first real breath she’d taken in what felt like an eternity.

Her husband shifted beside her in his sleep, his hand seeking hers beneath the covers. His fingers found hers and squeezed gently, an unconscious gesture of lifelong comfort.

She squeezed back, just once, a silent message sent through touch.

And then she allowed the tears to come. Silently, they streamed from her closed eyes, soaking into the pillowcase, a quiet monsoon of joy and relief washing through the weakness of her fragile body.

Her daughter was alive.

For now, for this moment, nothing else in any world mattered.

She waited in the stillness, measuring time by her husband’s breaths. One hundred. Two hundred. His grip had finally gone slack in hers, his breathing deep and rhythmic with sleep.

Finally, she opened her eyes.

The room was hushed, lit only by the muted glow of moonlight filtering through the window. She turned her head slowly, studying the peaceful lines of her husband’s face. Still asleep. Good.

Moving with deliberate care, she slid her hand free and pushed herself upright. The world tipped faintly, a dizzy protest after so many months confined to bed. She clenched her jaw and waited for the feeling to pass.

Alive. I have to see her.

She pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet met the cool floorboards. She paused, listening. Her husband’s breathing remained unchanged.

Standing was the real challenge. Her legs trembled, muscles atrophied and unsteady, but she willed herself upward, bracing one hand against the nightstand. The floor seemed to shift beneath her like a deck at sea.

One step. Then another.

She made it to the wardrobe, moving with the silent, fragile grace of a wraith. Her hands shook as she pulled out a simple traveling robe of dark blue silk, something that wouldn’t draw attention. Dressing took far too long, her fingers fumbling with the ties, clumsy with both weakness and a desperate sense of urgency.

Behind her, her husband stirred.

She froze.

He turned over, murmured something unintelligible into the pillow, and settled once more.

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and finished securing her robe. Shoes next. Then she would need.....

The door to the adjoining chamber opened without a sound.

A woman stepped through, tall, stern-faced, clothed in the understated but impeccably tailored robes of a senior palace attendant. Yet her eyes held an ancient depth, and her hand rested lightly on the hilt of the sword at her side.

"Mistress," she whispered, her voice a thread of sound. "What are you doing?"

"Mei." The lady turned to face her personal guard, the companion who had served her for over twenty centuries. "I need you to take me to Earth."

Mei’s expression remained impassive, but a slight widening of her eyes betrayed her surprise. "You cannot be serious."

"I have never been more serious."

"You can barely stand. The journey alone could....."

"My daughter is alive." Her voice was quiet, but it carried a tone of absolute finality. "I am going to see her."

"Your husband asked for a month. Your son agreed to watch over her." Mei glided closer, her voice urgent yet still softened to a whisper. "She is safe. She is well. You heard them say so yourself."

"I don’t care."

"Mistress..."

"I don’t care about the month. I don’t care about her plans, or her husband, or whatever she is handling." Her hands clenched into fragile fists. "I have spent years not knowing if she was dead or alive. Several years. Every day wondering. Every night is haunted by dreams of finding her somewhere, cold and....." Her voice splintered. She drew a sharp breath. "I cannot wait another month. I will not."

Mei studied her for a long, weighing moment. Then she sighed, a soft exhalation of deep resignation.

"You are going whether I help you or not, aren’t you?"

"Yes."

"And if I try to stop you, you will simply find a way to sneak out on your own, likely collapse halfway there, and perish in some forgotten corner between here and there."

"Most likely."

Another sigh. "You are as stubborn as your daughter."

"Where do you think she got it from?" A faint, weary smile touched the lady’s lips.

Mei shook her head, but she was already in motion. She retrieved a heavier cloak from the wardrobe and draped it carefully over her mistress’s slender shoulders. "At least allow me to help you do this properly. And if you collapse, I am bringing you straight back. No arguments."

"Agreed."

"And you will permit me to weave a concealment spell. Your husband must not sense you leaving."

"Fine."

"And....." Mei paused, her hand coming to rest firmly on her mistress’s shoulder. "If this kills you, your daughter will never forgive herself. Or me."

The lady reached up and covered Mei’s hand with her own, her touch cold but sure. "Then we will ensure it does not kill me. But, Mei..." Her voice softened, revealing the raw ache beneath the determination. "I have to see her. I have to know she is real. That she is truly alive."

Mei.....