After Nine Lifetimes, I’ve Forgotten Him Completely

The River of Forgetfulness beneath the bridge is murky and foul, its stench carried on a rancid wind. Countless souls denied rebirth wail and struggle in its waters, reaching out with claw-like, skeletal hands. She notices none of it, staring only at the old woman on the other side of the bridge, holding out a bowl of soup. “Drink it, and you'll be free.” Meng Po's voice is hoarse as a broken gong, and the bowl in her hands steams with mist.

Wanwan shakes her head and steps back. The iron chain around her ankle clatters. It is the shackle she wore in her previous life as a human trafficker, and even death couldn't set her free.

“I won't drink it.” Her voice is soft, but firm as iron. “I'm waiting for someone.”

Through nine lifetimes of reincarnation, he has forgotten his past, yet he still knows exactly what suits her best.