Inside a quiet and spacious bedchamber, a young man lay asleep on a wide, well-kept bed. His brows were tightly drawn together, his breathing uneven, as though trapped in a nightmare.
Without warning, his eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, gasping for air as the remnants of death clung to him like smoke. For a moment, he could only stare at the familiar ceiling above him, confusion pressing down like a weight.
His head throbbed. He reached up, fingers trembling, trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling in his mind.
I was shot. I remember the bullet. I died on the battlefield. So how am I here?
The last moments of his life replayed before him with painful clarity, his comrades collapsing around him, the bitter smell of smoke and blood, the enemy's rifles blazing from the ridgeline. Then that sharp crack, the flash of light, and the crushing silence that followed.
He remembered everything.
While the scenes of that day echoed in his head, a sudden knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Come in," he called, his voice strange and young.
The sound startled him. It wasn't the deep, weathered tone of the soldier who had led men into battle. It was the voice of his younger self.
The door creaked open. A girl stepped inside, dressed in a maid's uniform, her hair tied back neatly. She bowed with practiced grace.
"My lord, it's almost time for breakfast."
For a moment, Jiang Ning could only stare. His chest tightened as recognition struck him.
"Lina?"
His voice trembled, the name breaking softly from his lips.
The young maid blinked in surprise, her cheeks coloring at the way he said her name. "Y-yes, my lord?"
Jiang Ning rose slowly from the bed, disbelief and relief flooding him all at once. He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on her face, the same innocent face he had thought he would never see again.
"It's really you," he whispered. His throat ached as he spoke. "You're alive…"
Lina looked up, startled by the emotion in his voice. Before she could say another word, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"M-My lord?" Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air as she felt him trembling.
The warmth of her body, the faint scent of soap and fresh linens, it all felt real. Jiang Ning's eyes stung as tears began to fall.
"I missed you," he murmured.
Lina tilted her head, confused and flustered. "W-Why are you crying, my lord?"
He let out a shaky laugh, brushing his tears away. "I'm just… happy to see you."
In his past life, Lina had died young, driven to despair by the cruelty that Jiang Ning hadn't been strong enough to stop. The guilt had haunted him through every campaign, every sleepless night in the trenches. Now, standing before her again, alive and smiling, it felt like a piece of his broken heart had been mended.
"Don't say strange things first thing in the morning," Lina muttered, embarrassed, turning her face away.
Jiang Ning smiled through the last of his tears. "Alright, I won't."
He reached out and ruffled her hair, earning a little pout from her. For the first time since his death, he felt the warmth of life again.
As he laughed softly, something caught his attention. In the mirror across the room, a reflection stared back at him, a young man of eighteen, with clear eyes and unlined skin. His black hair was tousled, his frame lean but sturdy. The scars that had once marred his hands were gone.
He stared in silence.
This was him from ten years ago, before the empire fell into civil war, before he was sent to die.
"Lina," he said suddenly, his voice tight, "what is the date today?"
"The date?" She blinked. "It's the third of August, Year 312 of the Vastel Calendar."
His heart skipped a beat. "Year 312?"
That meant he had returned a full decade before his death.
He stood frozen for a long moment as realization washed over him. Then, as if remembering something urgent, he turned to Lina again. "Where are my parents?"
"His lordship and the madam should be in the dining hall," she said, watching him warily. "Are you all right, my lord? You're acting a little strange."
But he was already moving, pulling on his coat without bothering to change properly.
"Thank you, Lina," he said quickly and hurried out the door.
"W-wait, my lord!" she called after him, but he didn't stop.
The corridors of the Ning manor were just as he remembered, long halls lined with polished armor, banners embroidered with the family crest, servants stepping aside as he rushed past. Their surprised glances followed him as he ran through in his nightwear, but Jiang Ning didn't care.
He reached the dining hall and stopped in the doorway, breath catching in his throat.
At the table sat a broad-shouldered man in his forties, a scar running from his chin to his neck. His expression was stern, his presence commanding.
Baron Ren Ning, head of House Ning. The Shield of the Northern Frontier.
Beside him sat a woman with kind eyes and dark hair tied with a silver clasp, Lady Mei Ning, his mother. She carried herself with gentle dignity, her gaze softening as she saw her son standing there.
For a moment, Jiang Ning couldn't move.
He had watched both of them die in the other timeline. His father had fallen defending the frontier. His mother had passed away soon after, her spirit broken by grief. Seeing them now, alive, whole, and within reach, struck him like a wave.
"Why are you standing there?" his father's deep voice broke through his daze. "Come, sit down."
Jiang Ning swallowed hard and stepped forward, forcing a steady breath.
His mother frowned lightly. "And why are you still in your nightclothes? You should change before breakfast."
"I… woke up late," he said awkwardly.
His father's brow rose slightly, but he only grunted. His mother smiled, the same warm smile he had missed for so long.
"You should rest earlier tonight. It isn't good for your health," she said.
"Yes, Mother."
As he sat, he noticed movement at the door. Lina peeked inside nervously, half-hidden behind the frame. When their eyes met, she made a small, silly face, trying to cheer him up.
Jiang Ning chuckled. "Lina, come sit with us."
Her eyes widened in horror. "My lord!" she whispered.
Ren Ning looked up from his plate. "Is that the maid girl you've kept since childhood?"
"Yes," Jiang Ning replied quickly. "She's family to me. May she join us for breakfast?"
His parents exchanged a glance. His mother's smile deepened. "Of course. Come in, Lina."
The old butler stepped forward and pulled out a chair beside Jiang Ning.
Lina's face turned bright red as she walked in, bowing to both elders before sitting stiffly at the table.
"It's fine, relax," Jiang Ning said gently. He reached over and gave her a reassuring pat on the head.
"Stop teasing her," his mother scolded softly. "You're making her nervous."
"I'm fine, madam," Lina said quickly, shaking her head. "Young master isn't making me uncomfortable."
Her cheeks were pink, but her smile was small and genuine.
Ren Ning gave a short laugh, the sound deep and rare. "It's been a long time since this table felt lively," he said, setting down his cup.
Jiang Ning looked between them all, his father, his mother, Lina, and the warmth in his chest grew until it hurt.
This time, he thought, I won't lose any of you.