I Gave Up Reincarnation Twice and Watched Over Them for Four Years

I died in that torrential rain and became a ghost who could no longer touch my family.

When offered a chance to be reincarnated, I turned it down twice without hesitation, wagering my right to ever reincarnate again. I became a skylark, then a white cat, and stayed by my husband, Lin Xiang, and our son, Mengmeng, for four whole years.

The rules of reincarnation are cold and merciless: if a loved one recognizes who I am, my soul will vanish in an instant.

I hid every trace of myself, daring only to watch over them in silence. I watched him lose his job while trying to protect the design for the planetarium we had built together. I listened as our son choked back tears night after night, missing me. I spent all my soul points to stay close to them, only for him to cruelly shut me out.

He wasn't heartless. He was afraid to acknowledge me. He feared that if he broke through this unspoken barrier, he would lose me forever.

He remembered all my little habits and held on to the dream we had never fulfilled. With extraordinary restraint, he bore the rules' backlash in my place. Our son kept his drawings hidden, having already recognized me, in my white-cat form, as his mother returned.

With a copyright lawsuit, his mother's critical illness, and one desperate crisis after another bearing down on us, I was willing to give up my chance at reincarnation in exchange for one more year by his side in the mortal world, even if it meant facing the end of my soul.

I thought our parting would be forever, never knowing that he had never let me go.

Thirty years later, he gave up the perfect life he had earned with a full score in the realm of reincarnation, and bound himself to me with his soul so we could stay together.

Death is never the end. Being forgotten is.

But the deepest love is the one force powerful enough to defy oblivion.

Because love itself is eternal!