Li Huaijin had always been more mature than his peers. From a very young age, he knew his condition of premature aging was incurable. Yet, his father refused to accept this reality, sparing no expense to seek out renowned physicians and rare medicinal herbs, all in a desperate attempt to prolong his son's life.
But Li Huaijin understood it was all in vain.
His father, however, clung to hope. He was overly cautious, determined to protect his only child. As a result, Li Huaijin's childhood memories were confined to a small room, perpetually filled with the scent of various medicines.
At the age of seven, listening to the birds chirping outside his window, he suddenly felt an urge to see the world beyond.
It was the first time Li Huaijin acted on impulse. Seizing a moment when no one was watching, he slipped out unnoticed.
The outside world was unfamiliar and wondrous, utterly different from the tiny courtyard he had known. Overwhelmed by the sights, he wandered aimlessly until he found himself on a shaded path.
It was early autumn, the season when the hibiscus flowers lining the road bloomed most vibrantly—bold reds and purples, radiant with life.
Then, he heard crying.
Following the sound, Li Huaijin entered a dilapidated temple and discovered a little girl lying on the ground, weeping.
She was no more than two or three years old, her face flushed with fever. As she whimpered and shed tears, Li Huaijin was reminded of the kitten his servant had secretly kept.
Without someone to care for her, unable even to find food, she wouldn’t survive long.
Curious, he approached and crouched beside her. The girl grabbed his hand.
Her face was smudged with dirt, far from pretty, and her tearful eyes barely open, her consciousness unclear. Yet, she clung to Li Huaijin as if he were her only lifeline.
Small, soft, and fragile, she murmured weakly, "Brother..."
As if guided by some unseen force, Li Huaijin carried the abandoned girl home. When his father questioned him, he simply declared, "I want to keep her."
The statement left no room for doubt, as though a willful child had demanded a pet dog or cat from his parents.
Li Huaijin had always been obedient. This was the first time he had made such a request, and Master Li saw no reason to refuse.
Besides, the Li family could easily afford to raise another child. With Li Huaijin being the only heir, perhaps he longed for companionship—a little sister to ease his loneliness. It was understandable.
That very night, Doctor Wu was summoned to the estate to treat the girl.
Once the others had left, Doctor Wu turned to the young master standing vigil by the bed, his gaze thoughtful.
Li Huaijin seemed utterly fascinated by his newfound treasure, holding the girl's plump little hand, his curiosity unquenchable.
Here was a child even more pitiable than himself—abandoned by her parents in a ruined temple. Had he not found her, she would surely have died.
Yes, thanks to him, she lived.
For the first time, Li Huaijin felt a strange satisfaction—no longer the weakling, but the savior.
Doctor Wu spoke, "This flower is called the Snow Ephemeral. It blooms for but a single night."
Li Huaijin studied the pristine white flower in Doctor Wu's hand, then lifted his gaze, waiting for more.
True to form, Doctor Wu smiled and continued, "It is a rare medicine I painstakingly acquired. It can replace a person’s entire blood without causing death—provided, of course, the two individuals’ blood is compatible."
"You’re in luck. This child’s blood matches yours perfectly."
"So, what do you say? Shall we try it?"
Li Huaijin tightened his grip on the girl’s hand. "And what happens to her after the transfusion?"
"She will inherit your premature aging condition and perish soon after."
Li Huaijin lowered his eyes and fell silent.
Doctor Wu didn’t press him. He left the flower behind, saying, "There is only one Snow Ephemeral in this world. You have but one night to decide. Whether to use it or not is entirely your choice."
After Doctor Wu departed, only the two children remained in the room.
Li Huaijin had overheard the physicians’ diagnoses—all agreed he would not live past his twenties. Already, at his tender age, streaks of white had appeared in his hair.
In another year or two, wrinkles would form, and he would age at an accelerated pace, becoming a withered old man long before his time.
He wanted to attend school like other children, to study and understand the world.
He longed to see the vast landscapes described in books, to experience their wonders.
He wanted to live.
As the moon reached its zenith, the boy’s pale fingers stretched toward the flawless flower.
Just then, the girl opened her eyes and murmured drowsily, "Brother..."
Li Huaijin’s hand froze, his gaze settling on her flushed cheeks.
"Brother... I don’t feel well," she whimpered, tears welling in her eyes.
She was foolish beyond measure, unable to even recognize who stood before her, yet she entrusted her entire being to him.
"Brother."
She called out again, pitiful and weak. A peculiar sensation stirred within Li Huaijin.
This tiny girl, so fragile and naive, could be snuffed out with a single hand.
Yet unlike the pitying looks others gave him, her eyes saw him as towering and mighty—an omnipotent deity worthy of her trust.
His fingers, poised over the flower, withdrew and instead brushed against the girl’s oblivious face.
"What is your name?" he asked.
Her fevered mind struggled to comprehend. "My... name?"
"Even your name is forgotten. How foolish." Li Huaijin poked her chubby cheek, then studied her reddened face, reminded once more of the vibrant hibiscus flowers in full bloom.
"The hibiscus," he said, "fears not the autumn frost, blooming defiantly against the cold. It is also called the Frost-Resisting Flower. From now on, you are Furong—my little sister, Shuangshuang."
The name "Shuangshuang" seemed to resonate with the feverish girl, as though fate itself had ordained it.
She remained Shuangshuang, and with every utterance of the name by the young master, an instinctive, habitual dependence awakened within her.
Later, as dawn approached, the Snow Ephemeral withered into dust and vanished.
For reasons unknown, Doctor Wu took a keener interest in Li Huaijin upon seeing Li Furong still alive.
"You’ll regret missing this opportunity," he said.
At the time, seven-year-old Li Huaijin replied, "I won’t regret it."
Doctor Wu smirked. "But if you wish to live, there are other ways. Find the Jade Crystal Puppet Thread, and you may yet survive."
From that day on, he taught Li Huaijin many techniques of gu sorcery, even using highly toxic gu poisons—with severe backlash—to prolong his life.
Their relationship resembled that of master and disciple, yet it was fraught with wariness and calculation, far from genuine mentorship.
Li Huaijin knew Doctor Wu had no altruistic motives, but he wanted to live.
At first, Li Huaijin experienced rapid aging only once every six months, lasting a few days. Then, it became every three months, then two, then one—until it occurred every fortnight.
And each time, the duration of his aged state grew longer.
