Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for reading my edited version of Wei Ying Chooses to Relive.

If you are returning to reread this story, can you pick up on the added bits ... tell me if it makes it more enjoyable than before or did I destroy it?????

I have altered some parts and added quite a bit more in places, but some of what I think are the funny parts (Su She covered in mud for instance) is still in the story.

However, if you happen to see the spelling mistakes like form in the place of from or vice versa ... I would love for you to tell me.

Edited does not mean perfect ...... obviously .... You will never get a perfect story from me.

Because of this editing I have just finished, there are 53 chapters for this story and each chapter is at least 1500 to 2000 words long, I hope this does not put anyone off from reading and enjoying it.

Also, once again I wan to acknowledge all those amazing artist who produce the images I will use throughout this story and never to forget the wonderful actors of The Untamed of which I will also use their photos.

Wei Ying slowly began to wake and remembered that today was his one hundred and fourth birthday and Lan Zhan had been teasing him because he has a surprise waiting. If he didn't die way back then, by falling off the cliff, he would only be a year younger than Lan Zhan and would be in his one hundred and twentieth year. However, being at this end of your life meant that the sixteen year age gap didn't mean anything.

But then again, it had never meant anything to either of them to begin with.

That no longer shy husband of his had said the gift was something he would love but didn't give any kind of hint.

Frustrating husband and all his gifts.

However, he realised he was just the same.

Every flower Lan Zhan had given him over the years, he had pressed and protected with talismans so the colour remained as perfect as the day it was picked, and then for the whole year before Lan Zhan's one hundredth birthday, Lan Ying had carefully pulled all the flowers apart and arranged them on a large board, half his size. He had carefully and skilfully made the image of both himself and Lan Zhan walking away in the picture so the faces didn't show, while holding hands, their forehead ribbons fluttered in the breeze and tangled together. Little black and white bunnies around them even as the Cloud Recesses rose in the back ground. On Lan Zhan's birthday, in front of everyone, Lan Ying had explained what the gift was and that the image of the Cloud Recesses and themselves in the picture was made up only from the flowers he had given him since their wedding. Lan Zhan proceeded to hold him even as tears ran down his cheeks.

To this, most of the wives in the hall called out to Lan Ying to ask him how they were supposed to match that kind of gift for their husbands.

He had just giggled as his white haired husband held him with no sign of releasing him.

Thinking of that day made soft smile curved Lan Ying's lips as he shifted in bed trying to find his favourite pillow, but he wasn't there.

And the bed was far too small ... his butt was hanging off one side while his hand dangled off the other side.

How could his favourite pillow share this tiny bed with him?

Are we not at home ... where am I? He thought, struggling to remember if they went travelling. 'Hey darling husband ... where are you? Come back to bed.'

When there was no answer to his gentle call, his heart seemed to skid sideways in his chest.

'Lan Zhan?' He opened his eyes to see if his husband had risen earlier again, they have both found that old age often wakes you early ... but when he looked at the room, he blinked in utter confusion at his surroundings.

Even in the darkness of the early hours of the morning ... he could tell this was not their home.

His heart beat painfully hard in his chest.

We didn't go travelling ... I'm sure of that!

Where am I?

Where is Lan Zhan?

Instead of the room he knew for nearly eighty years and shared with his husband, his pillow, he was in a strange room ...

He looked closer at the room only to realise ......

No wait a moment, not a strange room.

I know this room.

He turned his head and looked at the bed head only to see the childish drawings of two people kissing which he had done not long after he was taken in by his uncle. It was an image of him and that pretty boy who gave him the toy drum when he was homeless, who he disguised as a girl ... but there was no way he could be in this room ... it had been burnt to ash when he was just a child.

It was burnt to the ground when the Wen sect destroyed Lotus Pier.

They had killed the leaders and most of the Jiang Sect.

This bed and that drawing had been destroyed ..... Utterly!

How is he even laying here looking at this image?

His heart pounded in fear inside his chest even though he knew it shouldn't. So often he dreamt of this room and mansion. So often he dreamt of his childhood before everything fell apart ..... and those dreams were always fun and happy.

So why did his heart trembled in fear this time?

Why did his core tremble at not being with his husband?

He jumped from the bed only to marvel at how easy it was. At his age, he didn't move that smoothly any more. Sure he and his husband were in remarkably great condition and could still fight with the best of the youngsters but that was because they took a dip in the cold pool every night and did cultivation meditation three times a day, it was not that surprising but still .... He had not felt this light since his youth.

Most powerful cultivators were incredibly spry and lived to well over one hundred in that way. His husband was over one hundred and twenty and as loving and protective ..... and possessive as in their first years together.

'Okay Lan Ying, take a breath, it's just a dream. Why are you so scared at the moment? It's not like you can't defend yourself even in a dream if your husband is not beside you?' He looked around his childhood room filled with all the things he had forgotten. The books and scrolls, the drawings, the clothes ... the whole mess made him want to clean up first, but instead raced to the mirror ... he looked into the face of his much younger self, his fingers trailed over the smooth skin and lifted the jet black hair. 'Wow, I've never dreamt so clearly of my youth before.' His head tilted to the side a little as he thought. 'What happened ... I was in bed, Lan Zhan's arms wrapped securely around me as we fell asleep and ..... and .... And what? Come one Lan Ying, remember.' He had never tired of the name Lan Ying in all the years of married life ... he even loved wearing the blues and whites ....

Then he remembered.

'Oh right, I was dreaming that I was in a lush green garden that I didn't know, and young Lan Zhan was there smiling that sexy damned smile at me and .... another person had told me to choose .... Something ...' he sighed then looked around again. 'So I have gone from one dream to another? That's a first. And what's more, they are both very lucid dreams like none I have ever had. However, I would rather have stayed in that dream with Lan Zhan, not here by myself.' He pouted then hurriedly dressed in the only robes he could find. Red underwear and black outer robes. 'Wow that really takes me back. Look at me Lan Zhan, would you remember this young me if you saw me like this?' He giggled happily as he hurried around cleaning and sorting everything. When he finished, he stood in the middle of the clean and neat room. 'I like this dream but ... tsk ... Lan Zhan is not here to give me my morning kiss ... so lets see where this dream takes me.' He giggled then hurried to the door and opened it, leaving it open to air out, and without thinking he jumped to the roof and did his traditional hour of cultivation meditation. 'Even when I dream its morning, I meditate.' He chuckled happily. 'Lan Zhan you would be so happy with me.' He grinned up at the sky. 'Would this score me an extra kiss and hug from you my love, my husband.'

Finally Wei Ying got down from the roof and walked around as he waited for what ever was going to happen in this dream ... to happen. It surprised him that even after a life time; his memory for details still remained. He had forgotten the exact colour of this and that but when he saw it, he knew that is what it had been like. The air held the scent of Lotus flowers which meant they were flowering, cicada's were beginning to make their calling heard and that made him smile. Oh and those lanterns had those pictures on them. The material moving in the gentle morning breeze was just that touch lighter than he thought they had been, and the tassels holding them up were with that colour thread. In fact almost everything he looked at made him realise the things he had seen in his dreams before were slightly off. He decided to walk to the ancestral hall and gave them their respectful bows and placed three incense sticks.

'Hello, I don't know if you remember me ... or if you are even looking into my dreams at the moment but ... I wish to thank you all for such good people who follow your line. I know when I lived here I was not the best child ... but if you ever looked into my mind and heart I hope you realised why I was like that .... And ... if I could have saved them ....' He wiped the tears that suddenly rolled form his eyes. 'I would have done anything and everything I could have ... but .... We all know there was no way I would ever let Lan Zhan to have suffered just because he was not part of the Jiang Sect. Even at that early stage of my life, he was someone special to me, someone I could not bear to see in pain ... and always will be.' He prostrated three times. 'I pray that you are at rest or reincarnate as you will.'

He rose to his feet and walked from the hall only to see something on one of the pillars by the ancestral hall as he walked back out. He squatted down and looked closely at a slice in the otherwise pristine wood. 'How in the world was that missed?' he traced the slit that had obviously been made years ago but knowing this sect like he did, something like this would have been mended straight away. Especially since it was right outside such a precious room. Something about it tickled his memories but he was not able to remember it. 'Well, dreams sometimes try to remind you of ....'

'Remembering your bad temper tantrums this early in the morning are we?'