Chapter 500: All is Well (Finale)

He was a man in his early twenties, so emaciated his bones showed. His face was deathly pale, and though there was nothing visibly wrong with his legs, he was so weak he had to use a wheelchair.

The man wheeled himself over to the young Arabella and stopped. This prompted her to look up at him curiously and take the initiative to greet him. “Hello, Mister.”

“Hello, little one. What are you doing sitting here?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been here for a very long time—so long that I’ve forgotten why I’m here.”

“Is that so? I just arrived myself, so I’m not very familiar with this place. Could you tell me a little about it?”

“Of course!”

Over the next while, the two of them chatted about many things. They talked about small things, like her favorite color of flower and the kinds of ribbons she liked to tie her hair with, and big things, like which of the older kids nearby had the worst temper, or which man would get so angry he’d kick someone into the river.

After some time, a high-pitched voice suddenly called out a child’s name from the other end of the bridge.

Arabella jumped to her feet excitedly, her large, dark eyes, like black grapes, wide with excitement.

“Mister, I have to go over to the other side of the bridge now.”

“Congratulations.”

“Well, Mister, I’m heading over.”

“Wait,” the man said, handing Arabella a few small flowers he had been holding. “This is a little something to thank you for helping me get to know this place.”

“A thank-you gift?”

“That’s right. When you do something good to help someone, they’ll be grateful and give you a gift. These little flowers are my gift to you to show my gratitude.”

Arabella didn’t quite understand what he meant. She tilted her head and looked at him for a long moment before blinking and saying, “Then I’ll make sure to do more good deeds and help people from now on, so I can be a good kid who makes people feel grateful.”

It was the first gift the little girl had ever received. She asked the man to tuck the flowers into her hair, then skipped happily onto the bridge that led to the other side.

The little girl, her heart and mind completely focused on the far shore, didn’t notice that shortly after she left, the man turned to a tall, burly, bearded man beside him and asked, “Do you have a light?”

After receiving a “yes,” the man was given a match. As the flame flared to life, he held a red card to it.

Arabella Donovan recognized it at once: a brand-new betrothal card. The flame quickly devoured it, and in the blink of an eye, the perfectly good card was reduced to a pile of ashes.

The man let out a sigh of relief. Gazing in the direction Arabella had gone, he smiled faintly. ‘May you have a harmonious family in your next life, with kind and wise parents and loving siblings. May you grow up safe and sound, and live a life of peace and good health.’

Hearing those words, Arabella Donovan’s heart thudded in her chest. A guess about the man’s identity began to form in her mind.

Before she could dwell on it, the scene shifted again, changing to the familiar great mountain from her memories.

Her five- or six-year-old self was out gathering herbs with her master, but she tripped on the way back, and the herbs from her basket scattered everywhere.

Arabella spent a long time picking them up, only to realize that a Lingzhi mushroom—one she had worked so hard to pick—was still missing.

Just as she was at a loss, a voice came from behind her.

“Are you looking for this?”

Arabella turned toward the voice and saw a boy, a few years older than her, stepping out from behind a patch of tall grass nearby. He was silhouetted against the light.

The boy was handsome, with delicate features, though he was a bit thin. In his hand, he held the very Lingzhi mushroom she had just been searching for everywhere.

Arabella’s eyes lit up. She hurried forward and took it from him. “Yes, thank you!”

“You’re welcome. What’s a little kid like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Where are your parents?”

“My master is nearby. And this whole mountain kind of belongs to my family, so it’s not really the middle of nowhere.”

The boy was taken aback. ‘Who *is* this kid? The whole mountain belongs to her family? Seriously?’

Before he could think any more about it, an old man’s voice called out from the distance, “Little one, time to head back.”

“Okay, coming!”

Arabella called back loudly. She glanced at the basket in her hand, and after a moment’s thought, she pulled out a small flower crown she had woven from flowers she’d picked on the side and offered it to the boy.

“Someone once told me that when people help you, you should be grateful and find a way to repay them. This is for you, as a thank-you for helping me pick up my herbs. I hope you’ll always be safe and sound, healthy and happy.”

This also seemed to be the first time the boy had ever received a gift from a stranger. He froze for a second, hesitating on whether to accept it, when the old man’s voice called out again from the distance.

The little girl didn’t have time to say any more. She stuffed the flower crown into his hand, picked up her little basket, and skipped away. Even from a distance, he could see her turn back to wave at him.