Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 259; Lu Yuze 11

Mei looked at her, really looked, at this woman she had served for half a millennium. The woman who had once been strong as forged iron, until her daughter’s disappearance began to crack her spirit, season by season, year by year. Who had been fading for eight long years, her vitality dimming like a guttering candle sustained only by grief.

Who now had a light in her eyes that Mei had not seen in nearly a decade.

"All right," Mei said quietly. "But we do this my way. Slow. Careful. And the moment you show signs of failing, we turn back."

"Yes, yes." The lady was already turning toward the door, her steps unsteady but unwavering. "Do you know where she is?"

"Young Master Long Chen mentioned a hospital. And a husband named Lu Yuze." Mei moved to her side, offering the solid support of her arm. "I can trace her magical signature once we are near the city."

"Then let us go."

They moved through the sleeping palace like twin shadows, Mei’s magic flowing around them, a veil that slipped them past the guards, the servants, and the intricate network of protective wards that would have pulsed an alert to her husband.

At the arched entrance to the transport gate, Mei paused. "Last chance to reconsider."

The lady looked at her, and in that gaze, Mei saw the same fierce, unyielding will that had always defined her daughter.

"My child is alive," she said, the words simple and profound. "Nothing else matters."

Mei nodded once, her face a mask of stoic loyalty and quiet fear. She activated the gate.

Together, they stepped through the shimmering veil of energy, leaving the familiar world behind, and plunged into the unknown currents that led to the human realm.

The gate’s energy rippled violently around them, yanking at their very essence as it pulled them between realms. The transition should have been seamless, a single step from one world to the next.

But midway through, the lady’s legs buckled beneath her.

"Mistress!" Mei’s arm snapped around her waist, catching her just as her knees gave way. The magical current shuddered, destabilized by the sudden shift in weight.

"I’m fine," the lady gasped, though her face had blanched and her breath came in shallow rasps.

"You are not fine." Mei’s voice was tight with alarm. She pivoted them both sideways, forcing the stream of magic to bend. "We’re stopping."

"No....."

"We are stopping." The gate’s light bled from cool blue into a warning amber as Mei wrestled with their trajectory. "There is a waystation between realms. We rest there first."

"Mei, please...."

"If you die before seeing her, what is the point?" Mei’s grip was iron as they tumbled from the shimmering corridor of the gate.

They emerged not onto Earth, but into a space between, a pocket realm nestled in the hidden folds of reality. The waystation was small, little more than a single chamber hewn from pale, luminous stone. It held a simple cot, a wooden table, and a basin of clear, still water that never emptied.

A refuge for travelers too weary to complete their journey.

Mei half-carried her mistress to the cot and lowered her gently. The lady’s hands trembled; her breathing was ragged and thin.

"Just... give me a moment," she whispered. "I only need to catch my breath."

"You need more than a moment." Mei knelt beside the cot, her stern composure fracturing to reveal genuine fear. "Mistress, look at yourself. You can scarcely draw air."

It was true. The simple acts of dressing and walking through the palace had drained what little reserves she possessed. The gate’s energy had scraped away even more.

"I can make it," she insisted, but her voice was faint, a frail echo of will.

Mei rose and moved to the basin, dampening a cloth. "We will rest here. A few hours. Long enough for you to recover some strength."

"Hours?" She tried to push herself up, but her body refused to obey. "My daughter....."

"...is safe, with your son watching over her," Mei finished, pressing the cool cloth to her mistress’s fevered brow. "A few hours will change nothing for her. But if you push yourself now and perish, you will never see her again."

The logic was sound, yet it did nothing to ease the torment of waiting.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears of pure frustration. So close. She had been so close. One more gate, and she would have been on Earth, breathing the same air as her daughter for the first time in centuries. She has never been to Earth.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I thought I was stronger."

"You have been dying for years now," Mei said bluntly, wringing out the cloth. "The fact that you made it this far is a miracle in itself."

"Dying..." The word lingered in the still air, heavy and undeniable.

"Yes. Dying." Mei held her gaze. "Your husband knows it. Your children know it. I know it. The only one who refused to see it was you." She paused, her voice lowering. "Grief has been killing you, mistress. Slowly. Your life force has been fading since the day she vanished."

The lady turned her face away. "I couldn’t help it. Not knowing... it was a poison."

"I know." Mei’s tone softened. "But now we do know. She is alive. She is well. And when you see her, don’t you wish to be able to stand? To hold her? To speak with her for more than a few minutes before you collapse?"

The tears came then, silent, bitter, and long overdue. "I only wish to see her face. Just once. Even if it is the last thing I do."

"It will not be the last thing you do," Mei stated firmly. "Because you are going to rest now. You are going to let me work the healing spells. You are going to eat." She drew a small packet from her sleeve, dried fruit and nuts, travel rations. "Then, when you have enough strength to reach Earth without dying on the threshold, we will continue."