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Chapter 60 – In the Dream
A dream about Xie Zhuoguang… that was the last thing she wanted to remember…

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“You didn’t see her?”

Li Qing had tried hiding all day — from the Pei family estate to rushing to deliver daily supplies to the eldest young lady practicing cultivation at a country estate outside the city — but in the end, he couldn’t escape his fate. Pei Shang caught him by the ear and dragged him straight into the Tangdi Pavilion.

Along the way, maids and old servants covered their mouths, stifling giggles at the sight.

Li Qing’s face burned with embarrassment. If he had known… If he had known it would end like this, he wouldn’t have bothered hiding in the first place. Just look at the mess he’d made.

When they reached Tangdi Pavilion, Pei Shang finally let him go.

“Speak. What happened?”
Pei Shang shot him a sideways glance, folding his arms, ready to interrogate.

“It was nothing,” Li Qing mumbled evasively.

“Nothing? You’ve been dodging me all day? You went out at noon, and now the sun has long set.”

Just recalling it made Pei Shang seethe. He’d been waiting anxiously all day — Li Qing knew how much he cared — yet this fellow had resorted to the pathetic tactic of running away.

“Master… please don’t be angry.”

Li Qing’s guilt weighed heavily on him. If Miss Yu Mingyao refused to see him, there was little he could do.

After much hemming and hawing — and another sound beating from Pei Shang — Li Qing finally confessed the truth. Still, out of nervousness, he couldn’t help but embellish a few details.

“She refused to see me?”
As the words fell, Pei Shang — previously lively — visibly deflated. The candlelight cast shadows across his sharp, handsome face, making him appear even more somber in the silence.

After over a year apart, not only had Yu Mingyao changed, so had he. That once bright-faced youth full of youthful pride had, over time, developed the composed demeanor of a grown man.

When he smiled, he was elegant and charming; when his eyes lowered, his thick brows and languid manner were mesmerizing.

Ever since he’d come of age, he hadn’t lacked for admirers. In the capital, girls were bold — unlike the reserved, delicate maidens of Jiangnan. When they fancied a man, they didn’t bother with subtlety.

Some, after being rejected, would immediately enlist their brothers to coax him into attending banquets — anything to get close to him.

Pei Shang had stumbled into such traps more than once this past year. Restless by nature and having long fallen out with his only close friend, Xie Zhuoguang, he had no choice but to rejoin the circles of young men in the capital.

“It’s not exactly that,” Li Qing cautiously added. “I told her I came on your behalf just to see her, but she didn’t agree to it. Perhaps… Miss Yu has other thoughts.”

He should have kept quiet. The more he tried to explain, the worse it sounded. Pei Shang, already gloomy, grew darker still.

“No… it’s fine,” Pei Shang tried to reassure himself. “It’s been too long since we met. Maybe she’s just shy.”

He subconsciously ignored how bold and passionate Yu Mingyao had been the night they parted.

While the master and servant nursed their own thoughts, Yu Mingyao, brimming with anger, glared at the figure outside her window.

“Well, well,” she clapped her hands with mockery on her face, “I never thought the ever-so-noble Heir Xie would stoop so low. Sneaking into an unmarried woman’s room in the dead of night — should I compliment your esteemed family’s fine upbringing?”

She gave a cold snort. Through the window, Xie Zhuoguang gazed at her intensely. He neither defended himself nor maintained his usual aloofness.

He ignored her biting words entirely, and as soon as they fell, he even stretched out a slender, well-defined hand, as if to touch her.

Yu Mingyao’s gaze fell on the small mole on the third joint of his index finger.

They knew each other’s bodies far too well. Especially in this appearance — in her previous life, at this very age, she had already been his wife.

They’d been newlyweds, sweet and affectionate. Even someone as cold as him knew to bring back locally popular silk flowers and fabrics to please his young wife after business trips.

Unfortunately, no matter how sweet that time had been, it was just an illusion — ephemeral, insubstantial.

A flicker of pain crossed Yu Mingyao’s face. She turned away, her voice flat and emotionless.
“Leave.”

There was nothing left to say between them.

It was mid-spring, but the chill lingered. A night breeze swept over her thin frame, making Xie Zhuoguang notice her slight shiver.

The capital wasn’t like Jiangnan — Jiangnan was already warm and gentle by now, but the capital’s wind still carried a sharp chill.

In her haste, she’d come out in only her sleeping clothes, draped with a thin cloak. Even so, she seemed frail and fragile.

Xie Zhuoguang’s gaze deepened as he watched her back.

Sleepwear — such intimate clothing — was something only a husband was meant to see. When they’d first married, she’d been embarrassed even to wear her underclothes in front of him, her cheeks blushing crimson.

All her bold, daring actions had been coaxed out of her by him — slowly teaching her how to break free of propriety.

And now, all those lessons… she was giving them away to another man.

And she expected him to simply let go and give her his blessing?

In his dreams!

Xie Zhuoguang’s voice softened unusually — like a cool spring warming under the summer sun.
“Are you really going to marry Pei Shang?” he asked.

“Mm.”

Without turning back, Yu Mingyao climbed into bed, pulled the blanket over herself, and buried her head — unwilling to let the man outside see even a glimpse of her face.

She lay under the covers until she broke into a sweat, only then realizing: I could’ve just closed the window. Why did I hide like that?

But she’d panicked. Xie Zhuoguang, wearing that face so familiar from her past life, made her unable to speak or act normally.

If she softened her tone, it would sound like flirting; if she hardened it, it would resemble their old marital teasing.

She resolutely didn’t turn her head, holding her breath for a long while before daring to glance slightly toward the window.

He should be gone by now… right? she wondered.

Eventually, as her consciousness sank into darkness and she drifted into sleep, she still felt as though a pair of eyes lingered outside, watching her intently.

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It hurt — it hurt so much, as though her body were burning.
Help me… someone help me…

Yu Mingyao sobbed. She felt as though she’d split in two — half still trapped inside her body, the other floating above, coldly observing everything unfolding in the room.

She knew this room well. A teapot sat on the table, the cup beside it empty. Xie Zhuoguang sat upright near the table, with a guest couch behind him.

She watched herself, her throat full of soft, coquettish whimpers, tugging at her clothes, eyes closed, shamelessly climbing into Xie Zhuoguang’s lap and burrowing into his arms.

When he didn’t respond enthusiastically enough, she even punched him.

Xie Zhuoguang kept a stern face, but his ears flushed red. His hands clenched tightly, veins bulging — he was clearly restraining himself with all his might.

“Am I so unlovable? Why won’t you look at me?”
She saw herself, tearful, tilt her head to bite his chin.

His body tensed instantly. Yet she wasn’t satisfied. She reached to grasp his hand resting on his thigh.

“You hate me too? No one loves me…”
When she couldn’t catch his hand, she broke into desperate sobs, punching and cursing him, then wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing against his chest. Her tears soaked through his dark-blue robe.

Xie Zhuoguang’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long time, he reluctantly raised his hand and awkwardly wiped away her tears.

“Don’t cry.”

The always calm, indifferent man’s voice was now hoarse. His clear eyes met hers, still cool as autumn mist.

“You’re wonderful. I… I admire you.”

He struggled long to force out those words. Yet the dream-self instantly burst into fresh tears and tantrums, calling him a liar and clawing at his face.

Xie Zhuoguang recoiled, but when she nearly fell, he had no choice but to steady her by wrapping an arm around her waist.

She watched herself soften in his arms, abandoning her grip and instead slipping her hand messily under his robe.

Clumsily fumbling with his belt — curiously touching him.

Xie Zhuoguang sucked in a sharp breath, falling backward onto the couch as she pressed closer.

Finally figuring out how to cool down faster.

She grabbed his hands, guiding them under her undergarments and skirt — but his hands refused to touch her most intimate places.

Amid her cries and moans, cold kisses rained down, and faintly, she heard a sigh.

“Enough.”

After that, all she remembered was a scream — and then nothing.

The dream was far too bizarre. When Yu Mingyao awoke, she was still trembling from the hunger she’d felt in the dream.

She had never craved a young man’s body like that — let alone Xie Zhuoguang’s.

Her face burned, the heat lingering. She squeezed her legs together, alarmed by her own reaction.

Just a few more days…

She bit her lip. In just a few days… she would marry Pei Shang…

Footsteps approached briskly. Yanyue lifted the bed curtain and saw her mistress flushed and dewy with sweat, her skin shimmering like pearlescent powder.

Curious, Yanyue glanced outside — it was only early March. It wasn’t hot.

She didn’t think much of it and continued tidying.
“Oh right, miss — when I came in just now, I noticed the window was open. It’s cold at night — make sure to close it, so you don’t catch a chill.”

“In a few days, it’ll be your wedding with Young Master Pei. You can’t afford to fall ill.”

Yu Mingyao stiffened her neck and gave a perfunctory reply, shifting her thoughts back to the upcoming marriage with Pei Shang.

That was what truly mattered now. As for that ridiculous dream — it was just a spring dream. Dreams faded quickly after waking.

A dream about Xie Zhuoguang… she had no intention of remembering exactly what it was.

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