AGN -Chapter 230 Can You Show a Little Respect for Bifang?

“Actually, the middle few lives of mine were very simple. It was only after my second life, when I was reborn as a human, that I realized how fragile people really are. When I was six or seven, I caught an illness—probably pneumonia or something similar—and I didn’t survive.”

“In my third life, I had lost most of my previous memories and was reborn as the only daughter of a town family. I went smoothly through elementary, middle, and high school, got into the capital’s medical university, and studied neurosurgery. But during university, the pressure of studying, combined with the remnants of my previous memories, made me self-harm whenever I felt stressed. The school and teachers discovered it, and I had to take a leave of absence and go home.”

“My parents were very kind that life, but the lingering memories affected me greatly. I became somewhat unhinged and ended up committing suicide.”

Qin Huai was shocked.

He finally understood why Luo Jun had said that the spirits in the middle lives retained some memories but weren’t trapped by their past obsessions. That was the period when it should have been easiest to resolve those obsessions, yet success rates were low. Spirits in this state were usually half-conscious, half-mad, with very unstable mental conditions.

So Gong Liang’s case really counted as having a good mental state.

Able to eat, drink, sleep, and not attempt suicide—he was practically normal!

“I am now in my fourth life,” Qu Jing said.

“Fourth life is the final life? Sister Hong’s fifth life is the last life,” Qin Huai was surprised again.

“A spirit’s number of reincarnations before the final life isn’t fixed after failing a tribulation,” Qu Jing explained. “Some, like me, only have four lives; others, like Sister Hong, have five. Some even last until the sixth life before reaching the final one.”

“Is there any pattern to this?” Qin Huai asked. “For example, those with heavier obsessions reincarnate fewer times, or perhaps it depends on the strength of their innate abilities—the stronger ones can reincarnate more times?”

Qu Jing shook her head. “I don’t know that. All I know is that it relates to the speed at which memories fade.”

“In the first life, our essence is still fully spirit, retaining all memories. Our divine powers don’t vanish until we fail the tribulation.”

“By the second life, we become truly human. We gain a human body and lifespan, must experience birth, aging, sickness, and death, and feel joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. We remember why we failed the tribulation, most of our first life memories, and we know what we need to do to make up for our regrets.”

“In the third life, the remaining memories are minimal. Most spirits even forget that they are spirits; prior memories appear only in dreams, obsessions linger in their hearts, and actions are mostly guided by instincts.”

“This is why spirits in this period are so mentally unstable. For instance, they may think themselves human, yet the Meng Po soup wasn’t fully drunk. Occasionally, they recall important fragments from before but don’t understand their significance.”

“Intuition tells them these fragments are important, but their memory can’t retrieve any related information.”

“If this continues for long, they either become obsessive or are seen as mad by others. In severe cases, they might take extreme actions, like I did.”

“Of course, a very few spirits in their third life still remember that they are spirits. These spirits are almost always difficult to succeed in their tribulation, so Heaven grants them more chances to resolve their obsessions.”

“By the fourth life, remaining memories are extremely sparse. They rarely affect daily life, but the influence of lingering obsessions is etched into their bones, driving them to act in ways they cannot control.”

“The fifth life is the final life for most spirits. By this point, as you should know, Qin Huai, like Sister Hong and I, we have no memories of prior lives. Obsessions still shape our personality or habits, but we are essentially just slightly unusual ordinary humans.”

“Has Sister Hong told you that in the final life, a spirit always gets one last chance to succeed in their tribulation? We call this the last straw Heaven gives us,” Qu Jing asked.

Qin Huai nodded. “She mentioned it.”

Qu Jing looked at him. “You are my straw.”

Qin Huai felt a little embarrassed at her serious tone and waved his hands, insisting he wasn’t—he was just a simple system-abusing gamer.

Qu Jing probably had another straw, one that hadn’t appeared yet, or maybe it had but she hadn’t grasped it.

After Qu Jing’s explanation, Qin Huai deeply appreciated that, as a weak little bird with no combat ability, her understanding of tribulation knowledge far exceeded that of Chen Huihong, a mere plant spirit.

“You really know much more than Sister Hong,” Qin Huai remarked.

Qu Jing smiled. “These are all basic facts. The elders in the clan teach them before the tribulation.”

“Sister Hong and the plant spirits…” Qu Jing hesitated but then said bluntly, “The way they undergo tribulation is unusual. Many plant spirits blindly attempt it and, if discovered and burned, they succeed.”

“So it’s normal that plant spirits teach nothing and have no common sense.”

Qin Huai: …

Plant spirits being unfairly blamed again.

“Since you know everything, why did you choose to appear as a child when you first shaped yourself?” Qin Huai asked curiously.

Qu Jing paused, a little embarrassed. “Because children have less meat.”

Qin Huai: ?

“Our Yu Jing’s greatest function isn’t to cure forgetfulness, but to be inexhaustible food. Many successful elders in tribulation met chaos or famine, were captured by starving people, and had their flesh eaten. Some were simply boiled, while others, unlucky enough to reveal their divine nature, were treated as mobile granaries and raised for meat, unable to die.”

“I was afraid of pain, so I thought it better to appear as a child—then if I died, it would be quick. If in a chaotic era, I could hide in the mountains, wait until things were peaceful, then emerge to beg for help, find a kind family to adopt me, and pass the tribulation safely.”

“And… the rest, you’ve seen.”

Qin Huai didn’t know what to say for a moment, then could only sigh: “Not having common sense is wonderful. Sister Hong even dared to venture out during three years of drought.”

Compared to cautious Qu Jing, Chen Huihong truly belonged to the radical faction of radicals.

Qu Jing: ?

Qu Jing continued eating her rice cake soup.

“I actually have one more question,” Qin Huai hesitated, then asked, “Qu Jing, do you remember the spirit you met at the pastry shop in your first life?”

Qu Jing nodded. “Of course, the pastries were delicious.”

“I found two recipes in your memory, one of which was his. Your memory is so long, four years, with many accelerated fragments—I think you skipped some. Did you ever meet him again?”

“No. The second time my grandfather took me to the provincial hospital, we tried to visit that pastry shop, but it had already closed.”

“Did… something happen to him?”

“Nothing. I was just curious how he immediately recognized your essence. Luo Jun is Bifang, yet he couldn’t tell.”

Qu Jing swallowed her rice cake. “It’s normal that Mr. Luo couldn’t tell. Even though we’re both birds, Bifang is too powerful. I couldn’t claim we were of the same clan.”

“There are many spirits, and different species often don’t understand each other. But if by chance they are the same species and previously knew each other, like Sister Hong once knew a ghost vine while it was white, and later encountered a ghost vine in its first life during tribulation, she could immediately recognize its essence.”

Qin Huai understood: “So that young man’s essence was probably also a bird.”

“Yes,” Qu Jing nodded. “He was probably in his second life. I didn’t recognize him at first; he recognized I was a spirit and approached me first.”

Qin Huai had asked all his questions and couldn’t think of any more for now, so he just sat in the private room, continuing to ponder.

Qu Jing saw that Qin Huai had stopped asking questions. Worried that the rice cake soup would get cold if she didn’t eat it soon, she hunched over and ate with gusto, spoonful after spoonful without pause.

By the time Qin Huai came back to his senses, ready to ask Qu Jing if she wanted to make a video call to Chen Huihong and Luo Jun for a kind of “spirit online meeting,” Qu Jing had already finished a large bowl of rice cake soup.

She had eaten it completely clean.

Qu Jing was now scraping the last pieces of radish from the bottom of the bowl with her spoon.

“You’re done?!”

“It’s really good,” Qu Jing said. “Almost exactly like grandpa’s rice cake soup, though a little tastier than his.”

“I haven’t tasted this kind of rice cake soup in years. Before I woke up, I couldn’t recreate the flavor at home.”

Qin Huai thought that was understandable—E-level rice cake soup wasn’t something just anyone could cook. Without talent, it was impossible.

Qu Jing’s cooking skills were on par with a normal human. No surprise: growing up in an orphanage, she had to learn to do chores from an early age, and later when Chen Huihong sponsored her to study abroad, she cooked for herself. Her skills weren’t bad at all.

Director Qu’s cooking wasn’t bad either; even her tangyuan never leaked filling.

If Qu Jing had grown up at Sanma Road Children’s Welfare Institute, called Qin Jing, eating Director Qin’s rice cake soup from childhood, she might have woken up long ago.

Qin Huai wasn’t secretly disparaging Director Qin—her cooking really was that bad. Otherwise, the orphanage wouldn’t have unanimously agreed to let little Qin Huai be in charge of making the institute’s noodles.

Suddenly, Qin Huai remembered what he wanted to ask.

“So, what do you plan to… do from now on?”

Qin Huai knew that after a spirit successfully passes their tribulation, they could choose to immediately return to their original world.

Their final life was a human body. They could either let the body die and return to their essence, or continue living in the human world to complete their final life.

But very few spirits chose the latter, because staying in the human world introduced instability. Who knew if they might encounter attachments or form new obsessions, failing again and having to start over?

Chen Huihong’s choice to stay in the human world to accompany Chen Huihui was extremely rare.

“Of course I want to live well,” Qu Jing put down her bowl. “Grandpa wants me to live well.”

“He wants me to attend middle school, high school, university, to be healthy and happy, living a normal, joyful life.”

“I’ve already exceeded expectations and completed a doctorate. The only thing left is to live well like a normal person.”

“I want to stay in the human world, live to a natural old age, continue working as a neurologist, even if I can’t cure my patients.”

“In my first life, I didn’t listen to Grandpa. This life, I will.”

“I believe if I do this, he will be happy.”

“Even though ordinary humans don’t reincarnate—death is final.”

Qin Huai smiled. “If Sister Hong knew, she’d be delighted.”

In fact, Chen Huihong found out just half an hour later.

Qu Jing also felt it was important to make a video call to Chen Huihong and Luo Jun to share the good news. Qin Huai set up a group call, and both Chen Huihong and Luo Jun answered almost instantly.

Upon learning Qu Jing had woken up, Chen Huihong was ecstatic, barely letting Qin Huai or Luo Jun speak. She chattered non-stop, and Qu Jing replied carefully, word by word.

“Jingjing, I’m so glad you woke up! When will your study trip be back? Will it be for New Year? I’m taking Huihui back to our hometown before the seventh day of the New Year. On the eighth, I’ll be back—we can go to Luo Jun’s place to have a meal together.”

“Ask Zhang Shumei to buy plenty of fruit; New Year has the best fruit. Any kind, even out-of-season, you can get.”

“Do you like cherries? Get some 3J cherries. Huihui loves cherries, and I’ll take extra for her.”

Finally, Luo Jun found a chance to speak. “Chen Huihong, do you even know how to buy fruit? Treating my house like a free fruit shop—come and go as you please, no payment needed.”

Chen Huihong was too excited to pay attention, possibly not even noticing him speak.

“I know a shop that sells really good cherries during the New Year, but the price shoots up, it’s outrageous.”

“I’ll give Zhang Shumei their WeChat.”

Video-call Luo Jun: …

Luo Jun slightly turned his head and took out another phone. “Xiao Zhang, check your phone and add me on WeChat.”

Qin Huai couldn’t help chuckling.

“Sister Hong,” Qin Huai interrupted Chen Huihong’s excited New Year spirit chat plan, “do you want me to make a batch of pre-steamed dough that can be frozen and stored long-term at your place? I’ll be back in my hometown for New Year, won’t return until after the Lantern Festival.”

“Sure, sure!” Chen Huihong said cheerfully. “Xiao Qin, your skills are incredible—when I don’t eat your pastries for a few days, I feel unwell. Huang Ji’s shop is so busy now, can’t even get a runner; Luo Jun and I haven’t had your pastries in days.”

Qin Huai was surprised—he hadn’t realized that Huang Ji’s booming business had indirectly affected Chen Huihong and Luo Jun.

“This morning I even asked Luo Jun if he wanted to go to Suzhou with me. He refused.”

Luo Jun grumbled, “What’s so great about Suzhou?”

Qin Huai smiled. “Mr. Luo, if you’d told me earlier, I could have left some pre-steamed dough for your runner to pick up tomorrow, steamed at your place—it won’t taste much different.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll send the tangerine peel tea too.”

Only then did Luo Jun show the second good expression of the video call—his first was when he heard Qu Jing had woken up.

Qu Jing smiled at Luo Jun. “Mr. Luo, thank you these past few years.”

Luo Jun slightly raised his chin. “Just knowing is enough. If not for you, I wouldn’t have gone to that lousy hospital of yours.”

“Even if you didn’t want to live, I still recommend regular physiotherapy—it’s good for your health.”

Luo Jun: …

“Jingjing, Xiao Qin helped wake you up. What do you plan to give him?” Chen Huihong asked.

“Give?” Qu Jing didn’t understand.

Chen Huihong explained the “gifts” recorded in Qin Huai’s game system.

Qu Jing realized: “Then Sister Hong, what did you and Mr. Luo give?”

“I asked my younger brother to donate a large sum to Luoluo’s high school, admitting her as a special talent. When Luoluo goes abroad for university, my brother will pay the tuition.”

“Luo Jun plans to leave all his inheritance to Xiao Qin, and when he reincarnates, Xiao Qin can repay him a little.”

Qu Jing roughly understood and looked directly at Qin Huai without checking her phone.

“Although I earn well now—about 37,000 a month including bonuses, plus a year-end bonus—most of my salary has been donated over the years. I only have 370,000 on hand; money isn’t much.”

“How about this: I write you a 10 million IOU, pay in installments, and I should be able to repay it before I die.”

Qin Huai: …?

He’s just a pastry maker—he doesn’t want to be hung on a street lamp!

“No, no!” Qin Huai refused repeatedly.

Qu Jing was already considered poor among spirits. Qin Huai had plenty of inheritance waiting for him; he wasn’t going to care about Qu Jing’s unearned 10 million.

“My portion of Mr. Luo’s inheritance is more than enough. How about this: since you’ve donated most of your money anyway, I’ll give you the WeChat of Director Qin from Sanma Road Children’s Welfare Institute. You can donate annually on my behalf—that will be your gift to me.”

Qin Huai: Director Qin, this is the last thing I, an excellent graduate of Sanma Road Children’s Welfare Institute, can do for the institute.

“Good,” Qu Jing nodded.

“Hey, I’m not even dead yet,” came Luo Jun’s exasperated voice from the phone.

“Can you not all just assume I’ve reincarnated?”

“Can you show a little respect to Bifang?”

Qu Jing’s story had reached a natural pause. Tomorrow, she would take a day off; Qin Huai needed to organize the subsequent plot.