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After Zhou Tingyun left, Ming Zhao wandered around the old house, occasionally teasing the parrot in the birdcage under the eaves and feeding stray cats that appeared from nowhere. The wind chimes on the eaves tinkled pleasantly.
She went for a stroll, watched the old men playing chess at the alley entrance, and bought a very popular sugar-coated cake from a snack shop.
She took a bite—it was sweet but not cloying, with a crispy texture.
Delicious! It lived up to its reputation as the perfect blend of sugar and oil. She snapped a picture and sent it to Zhou Tingyun.
However, after all this, she checked the time. It was only eleven o’clock.
Why is time moving so slowly?
After lunch with the large family, Ming Zhao collapsed into a lazy rocking chair in the courtyard, swaying gently back and forth.
So bored.
She listlessly opened WeChat, went to her chat with ‘Jerk,’ and poked at the screen idly.
I wonder what the busy man is doing?
The next second, as if he could hear her thoughts, a series of replies suddenly popped up.
[The parrot is raised by Grandpa; if you tease it a bit, it might start talking. You can give it a try.]
[Stray cats do sometimes wander into the old house; be careful not to get scratched.]
[The wind chimes are from a handmade workshop in the old town. Do you like them? We can explore next time.]
[Want to play chess this weekend?]
[This sugar-coated cake is indeed pretty good.]
[Don’t just lie down right after eating; get up and walk around.]
The last message left Ming Zhao stunned. Was he spying on her?
She glanced at the small scratch on the back of her hand from the stray cat, awkwardly hiding it behind her back, feeling as if he could see her.
She stood up and took a few steps as if to complete a task, felt quickly satisfied, and lay back down. After chatting for a bit, Zhou Tingyun said he had to get back to work and asked if there was anything she wanted to eat for dinner.
[Sugar-coated cake, I want to eat it again! /Heart]
[Okay.]
After sending the message and putting down her phone, Ming Zhao lazily slumped into the rocking chair, zoning out for a moment, feeling inexplicably empty inside.
She used to spend time alone at home or go shopping with friends often, so why did everything feel so dull now?
Her favorite games no longer seemed fun, scrolling through videos felt tedious, and she was too afraid to watch the short drama from yesterday—worried it might trigger more strange dreams.
But how could dreams be controlled?
The weather was beautiful today—the sky a bright, clear blue, the warm sun made her feel drowsy. In the corner, a little cat lay comfortably on its back, belly exposed.
Ming Zhao squinted her eyes and dozed off.
It should have been a lovely afternoon nap—if only she hadn’t dreamt of kissing Zhou Tingyun.
In the dimly lit room, a quiet, thick sound of water echoed in her ears.
At first, it was gentle, patient, and teasing—lightly biting her lip, whispering, coaxing her to open her mouth.
Then, the hand wrapped around her waist tightened, pulling her closer. His tall, upright figure pressed her against the door, fingers weaving through her hair, gripping the back of her head, deepening the kiss—greedily demanding.
“Hmm…”
Ming Zhao was forced to tilt her neck back, feeling as if she were being swallowed whole.
Her lungs compressed, oxygen slipping away. Her nasal passages, mouth, and entire body were engulfed by the slightly bitter, rich fragrance that surrounded her—pulling her down.
She couldn’t break free. She couldn’t wake up.
It felt like sleep paralysis. Why was the kiss so intense? Would her lips swell?
Just as she was about to faint, Ming Zhao finally struggled out of the dream. She gripped the armrest of the rocking chair, gasping for breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
What on earth is going on?!
Ming Zhao bit her lip tightly, her cheeks burning hot. The tips of her ears were so red they seemed ready to bleed.
The image of the man’s dark, suppressed desires flashed in her mind—his veins slightly bulging on the back of his hand.
That was an emotion that could never appear on Zhou Tingyun.
He was a workaholic, a monk-like figure, an old-fashioned man who kept his distance from women. If he shaved his head, he could probably become a real monk.
And yet, she had repeatedly dreamed of Zhou Tingyun like that—it was absurd.
Oh no.
Her eyes widened in shock as a terrible realization hit her.
Could it be that she was one of those weirdos who liked to see stoic, self-controlled men dragged down into the mire of desire?!
“Oh, so what you’re saying is…”
On the other end of the phone, Lin Zhiwei’s lazy voice came through, “You have developed a desire for your brother.”
?! Ming Zhao’s pupils trembled.
What is she rambling about?!
“I didn’t say that. Besides, I already told you—it’s about a friend of mine!”
Lin Zhiwei responded with a dismissive “uh-huh,”
“Okay, okay—your friend.”
“Your friend had a spring dream involving her brother, right?”
“…You can be crude, but not that crude.” Ming Zhao muttered, pressed the back of her hand against her face, which refused to cool down. “But… that’s basically the meaning.”
Not wanting to be labeled a weirdo, she felt distressed. “So why is this happening to me?”
Lin Zhiwei sighed, as if dealing with an idiot finally catching up. She had thought Zhou Tingyun would remain a lifelong virgin.
“It means you like—no, wait, your friend likes her brother, right?”
Ming Zhao’s heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she raised her voice to deny it.
“Impossible!”
“Why is it impossible?”
Why?
Her mind was a mess, like a ball of yarn unraveling in all directions. Anxiously, she rocked the chair back and forth.
“He… he is my brother.”
The brother who had protected her since childhood. Her unwavering support. The most important family member in her life.
How could she possibly have such thoughts about him?
“Then can you watch him marry someone else?”
Ming Zhao froze.
“He said he’s against marriage.”
Somewhere along the conversation, she had completely forgotten about the ‘friend’ she had been using as an excuse.
Lin Zhiwei sighed, “…Don’t love him too much.”
Then, after a moment, she added,
“But just imagine—can you accept him doing what he’s done with you in those dreams…with someone else?”
Ming Zhao stilled. Her brows furrowed as she carefully considered the question.
Him… doing those things… with someone else?
Her fingers suddenly clenched.
Oh no, her gaze grew distant.
It seemed like she understood.
A soft breeze passed by, stirring the wind chimes under the eaves. A faint tinkling sound filled the air, delicate and fleeting.
So, this is the boundary between familial love and romantic love.
The longing that emerged right after their separation, the subconscious desire for his touch, and… The jealousy that twisted deep inside her chest.
On October 27, 2024, at 2:39 PM, Ming Zhao, at the age of twenty-one—Ming Zhao finally realized something very, very important.
She had fallen for her own brother.
In that moment, her heart felt like the wind chime swaying under the eaves—
softly ringing, trembling with every breath of wind,
tapping out a name in its gentle melody.
—Zhou Tingyun.