Trần Ngọc Linh stood outside the door, leaning against the wall, watching as the storm consumed the world in wind and rain.
Was this woman crazy?
Their current life—wasn’t it good enough?
Why did she insist on tormenting herself like this?
Why did she have to return to her old body so desperately?
After standing there for a while, unable to bear it any longer, he pushed the door open and strode inside. Grabbing Hoàng Hải Vân by the shoulders, he shook her hard.
"Stop this. Let’s go home. Come home with me."
Startled, she looked up at him in confusion.
"What are you doing here?"
Instead of answering, he threw his arms around her, holding her tightly.
"Stop this, please. I can't stand watching you suffer."
Rain-soaked and shivering, his current body—her body—was already showing signs of catching a cold. She could hear his sniffles, but she wasn’t sure if they were from the chill or if he was actually crying.
It was funny.
She was the one who should have been saying those words, not him.
Gently, she pried his arms off and spoke soothingly,
"I’m an adult. I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry about me. Go home first."
But he refused.
Instead, he cupped her face and kissed her—desperately, fiercely, hungrily.
And that night, amidst the raging storm outside, another storm raged within the hearse storage house.
By dawn, the rain had ceased. The two returned home, taking a warm bath together.
Afterward, they went out for breakfast and then crawled back into bed.
Trần Ngọc Linh pulled her into his embrace, whispering,
"From now on, stop doing this. Let me handle it."
She was exhausted from staying up all night. She didn’t have the energy to argue.
"Fine, fine. You do it. Now sleep."
That night, when Trần Ngọc Linh got up to meditate, Hoàng Hải Vân also got up to follow him.
He tried to stop her.
"You don’t have to go. I’ll handle it."
But she shook her head.
"I won’t meditate. I’ll just be your bodyguard. After all, you’re in my body—a beautiful woman’s body. What if you run into some pervert?"
He gave up arguing.
As long as she wasn’t enduring those agonizing headaches anymore, that was enough.
That night, he meditated while she sat beside him, watching silently.
And for some reason, her heart was trembling.
Maybe life like this wasn’t so bad.
Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.
After all, he could even give birth in her place.
For the first time, she wondered—
Was she wrong for insisting on going back to her real body?
 
Trần Ngọc Linh sat in meditation, sweat beading on his forehead.
Hoàng Hải Vân, having experienced this pain before, knew exactly what he was going through.
Guilt weighed down on her.
Reaching out, she gently wiped the sweat from his brow and whispered,
"Let’s go home. We don’t need to open the yin-yang eyes anymore. Life is good the way it is."
Trần Ngọc Linh's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He turned to her in disbelief, afraid he had misheard.
"You mean it?"
She nodded firmly.
"Yes."
His face lit up like a child given the world. Without hesitation, he asked,
"Then, will you marry me?"
She wasn’t surprised, but she couldn’t help but laugh.
Who proposes in the middle of a graveyard?
But looking at him, drenched in moonlight and love, she found him unbearably endearing.
So, she nodded.
"Yes."
Without another word, he pulled her in, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her—deeply, passionately.
But fate had never been kind to them.
Just as they lost themselves in each other, a group of people entered the graveyard.
The sound of footsteps surrounded them.
A voice rang out, laced with mockery.
"Good evening, Young Master Trần."
Trần Ngọc Linh’s entire body went rigid.
His arms instinctively shielded Hoàng Hải Vân as he turned toward the intruders.
It was the Đinh family.
Among them stood Đinh Tuấn Kiệt—the second master of the Đinh clan.
Rage and unease swirled in Trần Ngọc Linh’s gut as he demanded,
"What do you want?"
Tuấn Kiệt’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
He took a step forward, reaching out to trace a finger along Trần Ngọc Linh’s face—the face that belonged to Hoàng Hải Vân.
"Beautiful. No wonder the enemy’s woman always excites me."
Disgust roiled inside Trần Ngọc Linh as he smacked the hand away, spitting,
"Filthy bastard."
A younger man in the group hesitated before speaking up,
"Second Brother, this is a gang matter. She’s innocent. Can’t we let her go?"
For a moment, something flickered in Tuấn Kiệt’s eyes.
Then, his lips curled into a cruel smile.
"Sure. I’ll let her go… as my mistress."
At that moment, Hoàng Hải Vân stepped forward, pushing past Trần Ngọc Linh.
"This is between your gang and the Trần family. She has nothing to do with it. Let her go."
Tuấn Kiệt leaned in close, eyes dark and dangerous.
"Young Master Trần, the Trần family has already fallen to the Đinh clan. You have no right to negotiate."
His voice dropped to a sinister whisper.
"You should know your place."