Lin Jing stood in the garden, staring blankly at the queen. His mind had gone completely numb. One thought echoed over and over—Where was this? And when was this?
The rat, dazed and dizzy, lay sprawled on the ground. A slender, pale hand gently lifted it up.
Beside her, the roses bloomed in full glory. The lace-trimmed hem of her dress rested upon the soft grass. Her silver-blue eyes were calm as the sea. The queen smiled. “A rat? I haven’t seen one in the palace in quite some time.”
“?!” The rat’s fur stood on end as it looked back at Lin Jing in pure agony, pleading for help.
Lin Jing swallowed hard and finally spoke. “Your Majesty, that rat is my pet.”
The maid who had been chasing him arrived in the garden, panting heavily, and shrieked, “Your Majesty! That man is a thief! Don’t let him escape! I saw him with my own eyes coming down from the Astrology Tower!”
Her voice was so loud it drew everyone’s attention.
“…” Lin Jing felt like he was going to die from frustration. Lady, why won’t you leave me alone?
But then, the queen’s hands trembled slightly. She asked in a dazed voice, “Astrology Tower?”
The maid slammed her broom to the ground and pointed at Lin Jing. “That’s right! He even went all the way to the top floor! Your Majesty, you mustn’t let this thief escape!”
Lin Jing: “…”
But the queen suddenly went pale.
The rat seized the moment to wriggle free, scrambling desperately back to Lin Jing’s side.
The queen’s expression was one of utter shock. She hurriedly stood up, her posture nervous yet reverent. She turned to the maid and said, “Marianne, do not be rude.”
The furious Marianne, still gripping her broom, was dumbfounded.
Lin Jing was just as stunned. He bent down, scooped up his near-death rat, and stood there holding his flowerpot.
He could only watch as the queen, backlit by the sun, took one step after another toward him—before dropping to her knees in devotion.
“Your Majesty!”
The two maids shrieked.
The queen’s golden hair cascaded onto the grass. She pressed her hands together and bowed deeply. When she lifted her head, she was trembling from shock. Her voice quivered as she softly called out, “Witch God.”
Lin Jing was dumbstruck.
Marianne and the other two maids fell silent.
The rat peeked out from Lin Jing’s pocket, eyes wide in disbelief. “…What the h*ll is going on?”
Tears streamed down the queen’s pale face, dripping from her delicate chin. She whispered, her voice carrying a deep longing, “Sorcerer, have my prayers from the Astrology Tower, night after night, finally moved you? Is that why you have descended upon the mortal world?”
Lin Jing was completely lost.
But with the maid still glaring at him like a hawk and the queen gazing at him with tearful reverence—
If he didn’t go along with this, he might really end up as a thief and be executed on the spot.
Lin Jing ran his fingers over the golden engravings on the flowerpot, bracing himself as he forced the words out in a dry voice, “Yes.”
The queen dismissed all the maids, leaving just the two of them alone in the garden—one kneeling, the other standing.
Lin Jing felt beyond uncomfortable. Stiffly, he said, “You… should sit down first.”
The Queen was overwhelmed with joy and led him to a stone table in the garden.
The crickets chirped loudly in the garden. One particularly restless one climbed up Lin Jing’s skirt, only to be caught by the rat halfway up and stuffed into its paws for amusement.
The Queen had stopped crying, but her eyes remained red.
Lin Jing, the fake witch, had no idea what the Queen had been praying for day and night, so he decided to take the initiative: “I… I am indeed here to help you. What is your wish?”
Hearing this, the Queen seemed momentarily lost in thought. The divine being before her had such a gentle and serene presence that it eased much of her fear. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lower abdomen as memories of her husband’s tenderness and her parents’ expectations surfaced. In a soft voice, she said, “Oh great Witch, I… I want a child.”
Lin Jing: “…..”
D*mn it. How did he not see this coming? Was he an idiot?
Taking a deep breath, Lin Jing forced a smile. “Alright.”
Meanwhile, the rat was still locked in a battle of wits with the cricket.
But crickets were naturally restless creatures. It suddenly lashed out with its forelegs, scratching the rat’s face before leaping from its grasp onto the table. Not satisfied with just that, it jumped again—straight onto the Queen’s hair.
Having been raised delicately since childhood, the Queen was utterly terrified at the feeling of a cricket on her head. But in front of the divine being, she forced herself not to scream, her face pale and frozen in place.
The sight nearly scared Lin Jing out of his wits. What the h*ll was the rat up to now? They still needed the Queen’s help!
Panicking, Lin Jing instinctively stood up, wanting to get rid of the d*mned cricket. But then he realized that such a reaction wouldn’t suit his divine persona. He froze for a second or two before forcing a gentle smile.
The girl in the white dress leaned forward, her delicate fingers reaching for the Queen’s hair. Pressing a finger to her lips, she whispered, “Shh, this is nature’s blessing.”
The Queen stared at her in a daze.
The black-haired, brown-eyed witch looked at her with clear, smiling eyes. Up close, she carried a strange fragrance, like a mountain spring that had washed over one’s soul.
For a brief moment, even the sound of the cricket’s chirping no longer seemed so jarring—clear and melodious instead, as gentle as the wind.
Just as the witch had said—nature’s blessing.
Her eyes rimmed red, the Queen smiled and nodded.
Lin Jing carefully cupped the cricket in his hand and placed it back on the grass before sitting down again, his heart still pounding.
The Queen hesitated as if wanting to say something.
But Lin Jing spoke first: “Before the snowfall in Eberon this year, you will have a child.”
The Queen swallowed her words, overcome with joy, looking like she was about to kneel in gratitude again.
Lin Jing quickly grabbed her hand, forcing himself to continue, “But I need you to do something for me.”
The Queen was puzzled. “What is it?”
Lin Jing wasn’t sure if she would see through him, so he asked cautiously, “Does Pals have a soul-recall formation?”
The Queen was startled. “Yes, it does.”
Lin Jing spoke softly, “I… wish to see someone.”
The Queen’s confusion deepened. “But, great Witch, you are omnipotent. If you wish to see someone, can’t you simply summon them?”
Lin Jing’s heart clenched. He had no choice but to continue weaving his lie: “But what if that person doesn’t want to see me?”
The Queen was taken aback. Seeing the expression on the divine being’s face, she seemed to understand something. After all, in the name of love, people would do anything—it made sense.
“The soul-recall formation is the final mercy granted to those who repent. But if the one repenting is a god, then… who is there to forgive me?” Lin Jing pushed his acting skills to the limit, letting out a sorrowful smile. “I don’t want to go back to the past. I want to go to the future—to see how it all ends.”
The Queen opened her mouth slightly. “You wish to travel to the future?”
Lin Jing nodded. “Yes.”
The Queen was a beloved princess of Pals and had studied sorcery for many years. She hesitated.
Lin Jing knew what she was about to say and cut straight to the point. “No matter the cost, I am willing to pay it.”
The Queen seemed dazed for a moment before sighing lightly.
She said, “The soul-recall formation is actually an ancient forbidden spell for traveling through time. To go to the past requires a life in exchange. The same applies to traveling to the future. Once the formation is altered, you will only have three days in that timeline. After three days, you will die from blood loss.”
Traveling to the future came at an even heavier cost than returning to the past.
The Queen’s voice softened. “Moreover, this is a forbidden magic of the Pals royal family. To this day, no one has ever succeeded.”
Lin Jing replied, “That doesn’t matter.”
The Queen, kind and gentle, could only sigh for this love-stricken divine being.
“In the legends of Pals, metal is the best material for absorbing emotions and preserving a person’s essence. Do you have something that once belonged to the one you wish to see?”
Lin Jing: “…… me”
Did he? Wait, who was he even in love with?
The Queen continued, “If your heart is set, I will help you. However, the recall will take you to that person’s moment of death. Do you still wish to proceed?”
Lin Jing clutched the flowerpot, forcing a smile. “Yes. I just want to see how it all ends.” The end of a game.
This Queen, so pure and kind she was almost a blank slate, nodded gently and arranged a place for them to stay.
Back in their room, Lin Jing murmured, “Where are we supposed to find a gold keepsake?”
The rat scratched its head.
Lin Jing sat at the table, deep in thought. “The first time, we used a rose brooch, and it took us back to when the princess was rescued. The second time, we used the ring that fell from Veraka’s sleeve, and we ended up here. What about the next time?”
He laid out all the items he currently had.
A flowerpot, a glass bead, and a crown.
Both he and the rat froze, staring at the golden, vine-entwined crown.
The rat’s voice turned hoarse. “Jingzi, do you remember? What John said?”
Lin Jing recalled it too—those words spoken in that desperate battle.
—“The king? Hah, just a dying old man. I’ve already taken what I wanted. Nothing here can stop me.”
It was like a bolt of lightning striking his soul.
He was stunned, his fingers brushing against the crown embedded with a rose-colored glass bead. The metallic sheen reflected onto his hands as he murmured, “Yeah… the king is dying.”
Lin Jing took a deep breath, still feeling like his mind was in chaos. He grabbed a pen and began sorting things out.
“The Soul Reversion Array—two ways to activate it. One is by staining it with fresh blood, the other is using gold as a guide. Blood can be someone else’s, and the requirement for the gold is that it must be a personal item, kept close at all times.”
But the metals they used in the past weren’t their own.
The rose brooch belonged to Cyril.
The gold ring belonged to the queen.
The more Lin Jing wrote, the closer he felt to the truth. “So… what’s being reversed isn’t our own most unforgettable years, but rather the years that were most unforgettable to the gold’s owner.”
Lin Jing suddenly froze. “Rat, do you remember Veraka? She specifically asked for the key to the queen’s bedchamber and spent a long time at the dressing table.”
The rat also recalled it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”
Lin Jing’s pen scratched faster. “She was actually searching for the queen’s personal gold ring at the dressing table. After all, the most unforgettable moment in the queen’s life was—when she met the witch.”
Everything became clear.
Lin Jing stared at the black ink on white paper in a daze for a long time before suddenly laughing. He put down his pen and softly said, “I understand now.”
That black-robed woman’s taunting words on that stormy night echoed in his ears once again.
“The Heart of the Rose of Eberon isn’t just that bead, you know. There’s also the sleeping Rossi. Getting the bead and waking the princess—that’s what true victory is. But there are many ways to go about those two steps.”
Veraka had once said, “In role-playing, as long as the logic is correct, then the story becomes reasonable.”
The rat was still confused. “What? What? What do you understand?”
Lin Jing smiled. “Do you remember that red glass bead in Veraka’s hand?”
The rat was still lost. “I do! I’m so confused! Can you slow down?”
Lin Jing lowered his gaze. “If she hadn’t died, then that bead would have been the Heart of the Rose—her own Heart of the Rose, within her storyline. The real Heart of the Rose had already disappeared, and searching for it in a sea of people was like finding a needle in a haystack. So she simply went back in time, became the witch, and created a new Heart of the Rose.”
The rat: “……”
After a long silence, The rat suddenly shouted, “Holy sh*t!”
Lin Jing set down his pen and said flatly, “That was Veraka’s strategy—her own story, her own role-playing. Because the logic holds up, it naturally became part of the world’s narrative. That bead then naturally became the real Heart of the Rose.”
The rat’s pupils trembled, his voice shaking. “D*mn, is this what a top-ranked thousand-point player looks like?”
Her thinking had taken an extreme and unconventional turn, completely overwhelming them.
Lin Jing chuckled. “The Heart of the Rose, a divine blessing. Maybe it was always meant to be a gift from the witch to the queen.”
The rat was silent, but he knew Lin Jing was right. His little rodent brain was rattled, his heart still pounding.
Reaching a high rank in the game meant you understood its mechanics well. But in every game, victory usually came down to boldness and careful planning. No matter the scenario, the usual approach was following clues, using combat and intelligence to defeat NPCs.
This time, he had assumed he and Lin Jing would just eliminate other players, find the witch, wake the princess, and win.
But Veraka, by some twist of fate, had led them down an almost inconceivable path. And if Lin Jing hadn’t figured it out, The rat himself never would have noticed.
Lin Jing smirked and picked up the small bead that had been delivered to him by a pigeon in the town square. His brown eyes were deep as he murmured, “Not bad. The logic checks out completely. The witch gifted the queen the Heart of the Rose, blessing her child to be as beautiful as a rose. The grateful queen enshrined the bead as a statue’s eye in the square, only for a playful pigeon to carry it away. Years later, by a stroke of fate, another white pigeon brought it back, dropping it into the hands of a noble girl amidst the melody of flutes in the bustling square.”
The next day, Eberon was still bathed in clear skies.
Lin Jing, in high spirits, was in the garden, sunning his magic vine. The delicate plant was always sickly, especially afraid of light, shielding its fruit with its leaves, trembling in protest.
Lin Jing peeled its leaves away and said, “Sunlight is good for you.”
By evening, the array was complete.
Lin Jing sighed. Looked like the time needed to set up a time-reversal array wasn’t that long. Veraka must have stalled because she was waiting for him to use blood to nurture the magic vine’s fruit—killing two birds with one stone.
That night, the queen led him toward the underground chamber. She whispered, “May you have a smooth journey.”
But Lin Jing stopped in the garden.
Moonlight filled the corridors, crickets chirped in the rose bushes, and the girl in a white floral dress turned back, smiling. “Wait, Your Highness. I haven’t blessed the unborn little princess yet.”
The queen was startled, slightly confused as to why the witch had already determined it would be a princess before the child was even born. But she thought—if the witch said it, there must be a reason.
She knelt in reverence.
Lin Jing stretched out a hand, palm open.
In the girl’s fair hand lay a red glass bead, glowing with a blood-red shimmer, its radiance magnificent.
Originally, Lin Jing had only intended to offer a casual blessing, but when he opened his mouth, he suddenly thought of Rossi, barefoot and running through thorn bushes to reach him.
Her feet, bloodstained and battered.
Her tear-streaked ice-blue eyes.
He thought of the castle deep in the dark forest, of that strange, cunning, sharp-tongued “witch” on the other side of a door.
He thought of her weeping in the wilderness.
The wind carried the scent of roses.
Lin Jing handed her the bead, took a deep breath, and whispered:
“I bless her to be born beautiful, to be born noble, to always carry passion in her heart, and to always be loved.”
The more he spoke, the heavier his heart felt.
“I bless her to receive all that she desires, for her hopes to always come true. Like the roses of the capital—may romance and innocence remain eternal.”
He was silent for a long time before adding in a hoarse voice, “And may she never have to worry about the rainy seasons of Eberon again. May she live carefree, all the way until old age.”
The rat was stunned for a long time before speaking, “Jingzi”
The queen listened with tears streaming down her face. She knelt once more before Lin Jing in deep reverence.
Lin Jing handed the bead to the queen and said, “This is the Heart of the Rose.”
After a brief pause, he added, “But your daughter is the greatest divine blessing in this world.”
The greatest divine blessing.
Lin Jing didn’t even know why he said those words.
He was dazed for a long time, only coming back to himself when the cold wind wrapped around his fingers, making them numb.
The queen, her face wet with tears, stood up, visibly moved.
Suddenly, the sound of a flute echoed from the front of the palace, clear and melodic despite its occasional faltering. The tune was incredibly familiar—almost instantly, it pulled Lin Jing’s thoughts back to a memory of the city square. He had been bargaining with a coachman when a flock of white pigeons took flight, and he turned his head on a snow-covered street—only to meet the silver-blue eyes of a young man.
“The River of Memories.”
The queen noticed his shift in expression and quickly explained, “Forgive me, Witch god, it seems the palace is hosting a ball.”
Lin Jing shook his head. “It’s fine. You should go back.”
He picked up his flowerpot and walked toward the underground chamber.
The rat chattered anxiously on his shoulder, “Hey, Jingzi, don’t get too deep into the act, okay?”
The queen had set up the ritual here to keep it hidden. This was Lin Jing’s third time visiting the place, and he felt remarkably calm. Hearing the rat’s nonsense, he replied, exasperated, “What are you thinking? I’m fine.”
The rat dryly reassured him, “As long as you’re fine. No worries, we’re just rushing back to save the little princess, right?”
Lin Jing tugged at the corner of his lips. He knew there was no explaining things to the rat.
The flute’s melody remained pure and beautiful.
There were no lights in the underground chamber, so Lin Jing had to fumble his way forward in the darkness.
With his heightened sense of hearing, every note of the tune rang vividly in his ears.
He wasn’t even sure where his sympathy for Rossi came from—just that seeing her cry made him feel unbearably sad.
His mother once told him that he had an overly strong sense of empathy. As a child, he would cry while listening to fairy tales. Had he really not changed at all after growing up?
When he finally reached the bottom, he lit the lamp, illuminating the ritual formation. The golden rose at its center had turned a deep, blood-red.
The spell that allowed travel to the past required no blood—only metal as a catalyst. But returning to the future, three days later, would cost him his life.
Suddenly, a woman’s shrill voice rang out from outside, “Ahhh! Thief! You thief! I knew you had ill intentions! How dare you steal from the queen’s study! Just wait—I’ll have you caught!”
The rat cursed, “That wretched woman just won’t go away!”
Lin Jing sighed, rubbing his forehead. As Marianne stormed in his direction, he had no choice but to hurry. He moved so quickly that he accidentally crashed into a statue.
With a loud crash, the statue toppled to the ground.
Marianne’s screams grew even louder. “Ahhh! Someone, come quickly! Guards!”
The rat swore under his breath. “D*mn harpy.”
Lin Jing had no time to deal with the fallen statue. In the midst of the chaos, he placed the crown onto the blood-red rose at the ritual’s center.
Instantly, the metal melted away, disintegrating into fine ash.
A blood-red light spread outward from the center, bursting forth and illuminating the entire study.
Marianne was still shrieking. The guards were pouring in. The room was filled with shouting, confusion, and chaos. Yet somehow, the flute’s melody seemed to pierce through it all, reaching his ears.
“The River of Memories.”
As his body sank into the spell’s pull, countless images flashed through Lin Jing’s mind—first, the statue in the square, the snowy forest, the rose brooch, the church, and the white pigeons.
Then, the scenes changed—to an endless sea of hyacinths, to fluttering white butterflies, to a long, long road, to a vast expanse of blue glass, to an empty and silent world of darkness.
His father bent down, dressed in a white lab coat. A large, gentle hand ruffled Lin Jing’s hair. He smiled, warm and refined, and softly said, “You can give it a try.”
…Try what?
***
When Lin Jing landed back in the queen’s underground chamber, he nearly choked to death on thick smoke. Flames roared, devouring books and reducing them to ash. He could barely see ahead.
Outside, voices clamored in a heated argument, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The exit was piled high with straw. Someone was continuously throwing in torches, clearly intent on destroying the place completely.
Fortunately, during his earlier conversation with the queen, he had learned that there was a hidden passage here—just behind the bookshelf.
Lin Jing coughed violently, his lungs burning from the smoke. His eyes stung, hot with irritation. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against the bookshelf. With a heavy thud, an iron box fell from its place. Lin Jing hesitated for a moment, still clutching the flowerpot, but then stepped over the box, ignoring the three letters inside. He grabbed the rat and sprinted into the dark tunnel.
The passage stretched long, leading toward the palace gates. Lin Jing had no idea how long he ran before finally climbing out, emerging into a secluded, abandoned alleyway.
Snow was falling over Eberon. The familiar, cold, desolate scent filled the air.
Lin Jing took a deep breath. The crisp chill stung his nose.
His dress was filthy, his hair covered in ash, his face smudged with soot.
The magic vine in his arms had been singed by the fire, its fruit hanging limply.
The rat groaned, utterly exhausted. “Why are we always this miserable? And where even are we now?”
Lin Jing wiped his face, steadied himself, and replied, “On the streets of Eberon.”
He paused, then, with certainty, said, “We should be back.”
A thin layer of snow blanketed the street as Lin Jing stepped forward. He passed through narrow, damp alleyways, where beggars huddled along the walls.
The vagrants were murmuring amongst themselves.
“The king is dead?”
“Didn’t think the one who wouldn’t survive this winter would be the king.”
“My god… Princess Kate, who was married off to another kingdom ages ago, is already on her way back. Like a vulture, like a hyena—just waiting for her chance. With the princess still asleep, that woman is putting on a show, pretending to weep for her dead brother. Looks like she wants to claim the throne for herself.”
“She also said that all of the king’s disasters were caused by that d*mned witch and ordered everything the queen left behind to be burned—her bedchamber, her study. Even the statue in the square seemed like it would be destroyed soon.”
“This Princess Kate is really just pretending to be kind and virtuous.”
“The snow should be melting now. Will the princess wake up?”
“Princess Kate is putting on an act while waiting for the knights who went into the forest to search for the witch to return. Everyone knows she’s the one who least wants the princess to wake up.”
Exiting the alley and crossing through the towering city gates, one would arrive at the central square.
Behind the square stood a church, its pointed arches rising into the gray, snow-filled sky. Stained glass windows hung high above the pews.
In the center of the square stood a statue of a woman with curly hair and a flowing gown. Her gaze was distant, her posture graceful and gentle.
White doves covered the steps, undisturbed by the sorrow that had engulfed the entire nation after the king’s death. The place was eerily quiet, and the doves pecked at the snow in leisurely peace.
Lin Jing lifted his head in silence.
The object that had long crumbled away on the statue’s shoulder, its original form eroded by time, gradually emerged as the snow melted.
Round ears, a pointed snout, tiny front paws, a chubby little body—adorable and clumsy.
Golden light filtered through the falling snow, illuminating every brick of Eberon Square.
Lin Jing murmured, “Rat… so it was you.”
He opened his palm once more.
The rose brooch and crown had melted into the spell, vanishing completely from the world.
At the very end of the story, all that remained in his hand was a single glass bead.
Carried by a bird.
Transformed into the true Heart of the Rose.
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