Ch 103 (Extra 3): After My Mother Returned to the Rich Family

Spiritual bodies?

Ruan Cha was slightly taken aback. Thinking about it, she’d first heard those two words—“spiritual body”—from 1128. The system had once said that Yu Zheng was caught in a death loop because his spiritual body wasn’t recognized by the current plane of existence.

To Ruan Cha, spiritual bodies were somewhat similar to souls, yet not quite the same.

Ruan Zhengfei’s eyes widened suddenly. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat tightened so badly that not a single word would come out.

After a long moment, he raised his hand and scrubbed at his eyes. The next second, his voice came out hoarse as he thanked Fu Chen, “Fu Chen… thank you. Uncle thanks you… your aunt thanks you… and Cha Cha thanks you too.”

“Uncle, there’s no need to thank me. If we’re really thanking anyone, it should be 1128,” Fu Chen said with a slight, bitter smile. “But the spiritual remnants left by the system—of Aunt Wei Jiao and Cha Cha—they’re too weak. Whether or not they’ll be able to fully integrate with the data… no one can say.”

There was something Fu Chen had never told anyone—something he had buried deep in his heart.

Before 1128 vanished into a stream of data, he had loaded several Dreamweaving Cards from the system shop into it. Inside were the contents of the novel Ren Qingqing had written before she died, and the most intense emotional fluctuations from Ruan Cha’s spiritual body.

He had hoped that, if 1128 truly could find the version of Ruan Cha from before, then the Dreamweaving Cards it brought with it—as an antivirus—could serve as a warning.

Ruan Cha rushed over when she heard Fu Chen’s words, stopping beside the two of them to listen carefully. Piecing the details together, she gradually understood what had happened.

So, in the first timeline, after being mentally manipulated by Yu Zheng, the “Ruan Cha” of that life had already sunk into despair. And after the Liang family faced disaster one after another, it had become so easy for Yu Zheng’s forbidden ritual to succeed—even without “Ruan Cha” and Mu Yirou needing to be in the same space.

At the moment the ritual succeeded, “Ruan Cha” had taken her own life in her bedroom.

No one could’ve predicted that 1128, which had just separated from Ren Qingqing, would be able to recover a wisp of Ruan Cha’s spiritual body right as it was about to vanish completely. Later, it had also retrieved a fragment of Wei Jiao’s.

At the time, 1128 hadn’t even known why it was collecting spiritual remnants. After it detached from Ren Qingqing, it had no host and was on the verge of being wiped out. But something in it—some voice—kept telling it: You can’t make another mistake. Never again.

Compared to the second-life 1128 that had found its way to Ruan Cha, the first-life version had suffered far greater damage—mostly because it had used up a tremendous amount of energy to preserve the fragile spiritual remnants and DNA information of Ruan Cha and Wei Jiao.

Only after Fu Chen used knowledge points to repair the system and unlock its database did it finally understand why it had kept hearing that voice telling it not to fail again.

Because—

It had already witnessed someone being killed by Yu Zheng. And because of that death, it had gained the chance to escape him.

And because 1128 contained Ruan Cha and Wei Jiao’s DNA and spiritual data, Ruan Zhengfei—who shared their bloodline—had been able to perceive the system and even hear the word “system” from Fu Chen’s lips.

“Even though 1128 is gone,” Fu Chen continued, his eyes falling on the bouquet of flowers in front of the tombstones, speaking to Ruan Zhengfei—and maybe to Ruan Cha, too—“the books from the library… I managed to preserve some of them.”

“If we can apply some of the theories in there, then given enough time, it might really be possible to awaken Aunt Wei Jiao and Cha Cha’s spiritual bodies within the data stream… in the holographic world.”

Fu Chen’s martial-arts-themed VR game had already launched two years ago, boasting around 75% realism. In the years to come, he hoped to design a new full-dive game—a world where the spiritual bodies of Wei Jiao and Ruan Cha could safely awaken.

If the real world couldn’t bring them back… then he would build a new world in virtual reality, just for them.

He’d actually discussed this new-world concept with Ruan Zhengfei before. Through those conversations, he had come to understand story after story of Ruan Cha’s life growing up. The more he learned, the harder it was to accept that someone so warm and kind had been lost so early.

Ruan Zhengfei let out a teary laugh. “I just hope when they wake up, they don’t complain I’ve gotten old and ugly.” He turned to look at Wei Jiao’s tombstone. After staring for a while, he sighed deeply—something he rarely did.

“Jiao Jiao, Fu Chen and I are thinking of building an immortal cultivation-style game. Back when you used to watch Harry Potter with Cha Cha, didn’t you say you wanted to learn magic? So now we’re doing it with local flavor—immortal arts.”

It had to be said: with the existence of 1128 and the library, Fu Chen’s grasp of information tech had only grown deeper and sharper.

By now, holographic tech wasn’t just used in games—some major researchers in high-level institutions had already adopted it into real-world applications. The entire world’s technological landscape had taken a massive leap forward.

Fu Chen and Ruan Zhengfei were both confident that once the second immortal cultivation–style full-dive game launched, its realism could increase from 75% to as high as 90%.

Of course, there was also a bit of personal desire on Fu Chen’s part—he wanted to create the most authentic fantasy world for Ruan Cha, even if it was just in a virtual space.

When Ruan Cha had first walked up, she caught sight of the white hair at her father’s temples and felt a wave of sorrow. But then Ruan Zhengfei cracked a joke about “local culture,” making her burst into laughter while crying, covering her mouth. “Dad, let’s go learn immortal arts together.”

Ruan Zhengfei suddenly paused mid-sentence, then looked around nervously, as if searching for something.

But aside from Fu Chen, a few tombstones, a handful of bouquets, and the lush surrounding trees—there was nothing else in sight. Ruan Zhengfei scratched his head and chuckled helplessly.

Now he wasn’t just seeing Jiao Jiao and Cha Cha in dreams—he was starting to hallucinate in broad daylight. Just a moment ago, he could’ve sworn he’d heard Cha Cha laughing and calling him “Dad.”

Ruan Cha almost teared up again. She noticed her father’s disappointed expression when he couldn’t find her, and she stepped forward to gently hug him, whispering softly, “Dad… be happy.”

To Ruan Zhengfei, the hug was no different from a breeze, but for a brief moment, he felt completely warm from head to toe.

He turned back toward the tombstones. Tears shimmered in his eyes, but a smile still lingered on his face. “Jiao Jiao, Cha Cha… you two better wake up soon. Otherwise, I’ll be too old and ugly for you to even recognize me.”

Fu Chen heard this and looked back too. When his gaze landed on the photo of Ruan Cha’s brilliant smile, he couldn’t help but smile as well.

Snow was falling heavily, rustling as it landed on their coats, but neither man felt cold. Instead, a deep warmth spread through their chests.

Ruan Cha guessed she was probably about to wake up. But unlike her previous three dreams, she didn’t feel any panic or regret while looking at her father and Fu Chen—only a deep, steady calm.

So, Yu Zheng from her past life had died too. And her family from that timeline might still have a chance to reunite in a virtual world. Ruan Cha believed that her past self and her mom would wake up and be able to see her dad again.

As the scene in front of her slowly began to blur, Ruan Cha reached out and tugged on her father’s hand. “Dad, Fu Chen, I’m heading back now… I might not get the chance to see you again in the future. You both have to take care of yourselves.”

Her voice was so faint it was almost inaudible.

As Ruan Cha faded away, a gust of wind swept by, carrying snowflakes with it. A few petals drifted loose from the bouquet. One fluttered gently down, and Fu Chen caught it in his open palm. Staring at the petal, he froze for a second—then smiled softly.

After a moment of thought, he tucked the petal into the pocket of his coat, then turned to Ruan Zhengfei. “Uncle, let’s go home.”

Ruan Zhengfei nodded. “Yeah… time to go.”

—

On the other side of the cemetery—

A young man silently emerged from behind a pine tree. His hair was slightly curled, and he had a pair of striking phoenix eyes. Despite the freezing weather, he wore only a white short-sleeved shirt.

Once Ruan Zhengfei and Fu Chen were out of sight, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and sneezed loudly.

“Achoo!”

Clearly freezing, he bounced around in place, rubbing his red nose with one hand and clutching a plain black handheld game console in the other. “So cold! Temperatures from thousands of years ago are way too cold!”

Behind him were two glowing, egg-shaped capsules with blue lights blinking along the top.

Before the young man could complain further, a graceful woman with long curls and a cheongsam poked her head out from one of the capsules, looking exasperated. “Ruan, your coordinates were off again. If we try another jump, the landing time will definitely be affected.”

The young man—Ruan Cuo—gazed somberly at the photo on Ruan Cha’s grave and fell silent for a long time before speaking. “Ah Rui, go ahead without me. I want to—”

He clenched his jaw as he recalled the conversation he’d overheard between Fu Chen and Ruan Zhengfei. “I want to stay in this timeline for a bit… to see if they can really wake up Ancestor’s spiritual body.”

Gu Mingrui frowned slightly. “You want to help them? Wake up your ancestor’s spiritual body faster? But you should know—the timeline we’re in now isn’t aligned with our own. Helping them will affect your access to the next time stream. You could be limited to just an hour… maybe only a few minutes.”

“You insisted on time-traveling in the middle of an active wormhole just to see your ancestor in person. Aren’t you afraid you won’t get another chance?”

Ruan Cuo and Gu Mingrui were from Xingyuan Year 2020, both part of the same metaphysics sect. Gu Mingrui had started playing the full-dive version of Planet Management Notes on Ruan Cuo’s recommendation and had come to know its Planet Master—Ruan Cha, who happened to be Ruan Cuo’s ancestor.

Ruan Cha would’ve never guessed that not only had her family line continued, but the mobile game she had whimsically designed in high school had been upgraded into a full-dive experience and was still beloved in the year 2020 of Xingyuan.

In the game, Ruan Cuo had always been favored by Ruan Cha. Over time, he’d started wanting to meet her in person—to learn more about the life she had lived.

Though some family records included details about Ruan Cha, Ruan Cuo didn’t think it was enough. After several sleepless nights, he decided to try time travel.

Ruan Cuo and Gu Mingrui’s timeline was aligned with Ruan Cha’s second life, but due to a miscalculated coordinate, they ended up in the timeline of her first life.

By Xingyuan 2020, time travel had become mainstream.

And those who returned from the past were forbidden by time laws from altering the fate of others.

Gu Mingrui was against helping because she knew Ruan Cuo too well—he would never stay out of it. If he interfered and helped awaken Ruan Cha’s spiritual body early, he’d be putting himself at serious risk.

Ruan Cuo smiled faintly and looked toward where Fu Chen and Ruan Zhengfei had disappeared. “But people in every timeline are still just people. I want Ancestor to be happy… in every world she exists in.”

He waved to Gu Mingrui. “Go on ahead. Since the last coordinates were off, we can’t land in any timeline after Ancestor’s birth.”

“But landing earlier isn’t bad either. The records say that thousands of years ago, people were obsessed with buying real estate. Look around for me—see which neighborhoods are good. Once I get there, I’ll make some money and buy houses for Ancestor. I want her to have enough homes to live in for ten lifetimes!”

Gu Mingrui: “…”

Whatever makes you happy.

What neither of them knew, however, was that due to the error in the previous jump, the time coordinates had shifted just enough to cause an unexpected consequence:

In the next timeline they reached, they’d be old enough to be Ruan Cha’s grandparents.

Ruan Cuo & Gu Mingrui: “???”