At those words, HuLü Yan froze on the spot.

He stared intently at Mi Lu with those pitch-black eyes, unmoving. His posture was rigid, his body visibly tense, and his hands by his sides clenched unconsciously. The tent was so silent you could hear a pin drop; even the faint sound of the air flowing was noticeable.

Even though HuLü Yan hadn’t said a word, Mi Lu could clearly sense the heavy pressure radiating from him. That pressure fell upon him like a giant boulder, chilling his back and quickening his breath.

Mi Lu had to open his mouth, take a deep breath, and close his eyes briefly before he continued, “I don’t remember much about your earlier memories, only the later parts…”

HuLü Yan was silent for a while before his voice finally broke through the stillness, dry and slightly hoarse, “What did you see?”

“To be honest, it’s a bit… difficult to talk about…” Mi Lu thought of that dream, and suddenly felt his ears grow hot. His cheeks tingled as though something was crawling over them. He brushed his hand over his face, attempting to speak casually, “I saw a dream of yours… or at least I think it was a dream? After all, we’ve never gone to play on a grassy field, and I never sat on the grass basking in the sun. By the time we met, summer had already passed.”

Most importantly—

They had definitely never done anything like that.

“…” HuLü Yan was utterly taken aback, his expression laced with pure disbelief.

“We’re both men, and now that you’re past eighteen, there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about.” Mi Lu pointed to the chair opposite him, “Why don’t you sit down?”

But HuLü Yan’s face only grew redder as he stood there, as if rooted in place, unmoving.

After waiting for a moment, Mi Lu saw that HuLü Yan remained as stiff as a board and finally gave up, withdrawing his hand and rubbing the edge of his chair. He spoke slowly, “I don’t know why you would dream of me, but I want you to understand that you shouldn’t confuse that dream with reality. That dream shouldn’t affect our relationship.”

After a quick mental calculation, Mi Lu laughed, “If I’m not mistaken, you must’ve just turned fourteen at that time, right? Fourteen is that age when you’re taking your first steps into the adult world. It’s perfectly normal to be curious about that side of things, and having… certain kinds of dreams is only natural. Maybe it had something to do with your emotional or mental state at the time—wasn’t Xiao Zun around then? It’s possible he influenced those dreams of yours, even if indirectly.”

HuLü Yan opened his mouth but felt as if his throat was blocked, his chest tightened by an invisible grip.

Next to them, the white glow of the night pearl illuminated the tent with a soft light, casting a gentle flow of brightness across Mi Lu’s face.

Mi Lu’s black hair was loosely tied behind his head, revealing a pale, beautiful neck. Though he wore no powder or rouge, under the white glow, his face looked even more striking than the elaborately made-up courtesans HuLü Yan had once seen in brothels as a child.

HuLü Yan was momentarily lost in a daze.

Mi Lu’s voice broke his trance once again, “Don’t take that dream too seriously—it was merely a reflection of your mood at the time.”

HuLü Yan finally found his voice with great effort, “Why was it you I dreamed of?”

Now that was a question that caught Mi Lu off guard.

Mi Lu propped his chin on his hand, frowning as he thought for a while before answering, “At that time, the only people around you were me and Xiao Zun. After Xiao Zun left, it was just me. Since I was the one always by your side, you subconsciously made me the object of your dreams.”

Mi Lu wasn’t entirely sure himself.

It wasn’t as if he had ever experienced a dream that clear and vivid, where the setting and the people were so distinct. Even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t dream of doing that sort of thing with a same-gender friend he saw every day.

But dreams of that kind aren’t something you can control; he had even heard stories of people recognizing someone they once dreamed about years ago, like an old classmate.

For this reason, Mi Lu could understand why HuLü Yan had dreamed of him.

And to be fair, even if he didn’t understand, what could he do about it? He couldn’t just scold HuLü Yan over a dream from four years ago, right?

Besides, he wouldn’t dare.

Mi Lu pondered it for a while before dismissing the thoughts and gently reassured HuLü Yan, “There’s really nothing strange about dreaming of me. I had dreams around fourteen or fifteen too, and, like you, I dreamed of familiar faces.”

HuLü Yan froze, his tone turning darker, “Who did you dream of?”

Mi Lu didn’t bother coming up with a name and brushed it off, “Someone you don’t know.”

But HuLü Yan, in his usual persistence, pressed on, “Who?”

Mi Lu hadn’t expected HuLü Yan to be so curious about this. He found it both amusing and exasperating, “It’s someone you wouldn’t know. Even if I told you the name, it wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

HuLü Yan’s clenched hand gradually relaxed, only to clench again. His hand shook as if he were struggling to suppress some powerful emotion.

After a while, he asked, “What was her name?”

Mi Lu relented, “She was a maid from my family, quite pretty, but I don’t know her name.”

HuLü Yan stared at him, “Did you like her?”

“Huh?” Mi Lu blinked in confusion, taking a moment to process the question before hurriedly waving his hand, “No, I didn’t like her.”

“You didn’t like her, but you dreamed of her.”

“Because she served me the longest. Apart from my family, she was the person I saw the most often, so I ended up dreaming of her. It’s like how you dreamed of me—it has nothing to do with like or dislike.” Mi Lu looked at HuLü Yan earnestly, “Do you understand?”

Unfortunately, HuLü Yan didn’t respond. His lips pressed tightly together, his gaze deep and hard to decipher.

Perhaps it was Mi Lu’s imagination, but it seemed as if HuLü Yan was deeply entangled in some emotion, unable to pull himself free.

Mi Lu remembered how, in the original story, despite many female characters admiring HuLü Yan, he never ended up with any of them.

HuLü Yan bore too much on his shoulders; he had too much to accomplish. Romance seemed more like a burden to him.

Maybe that’s why HuLü Yan remained so pure-hearted, clinging to the tiniest details.

Explaining more was pointless; it was best to let HuLü Yan figure it out on his own.

With this thought, Mi Lu felt more at ease. He got up and motioned for HuLü Yan to rest. Then he picked up the night pearl from the cabinet and headed toward the curtain.

Just as he took two steps, HuLü Yan blocked his path, “What if I keep dreaming of you?”

Mi Lu turned his head, locking eyes with HuLü Yan’s dark gaze.

The light of the night pearl reflected in HuLü Yan’s eyes, making Mi Lu’s image within them clear and vivid.

Mi Lu noticed that HuLü Yan’s eyes were stunning, as if holding a clear pool within. Bright and translucent, though beneath the calm surface, something darker swirled—emotions he couldn’t quite understand.

It was as though something flitted through Mi Lu’s mind.

But when he reached out to grasp it, it vanished like a shooting star, leaving no trace.

Frowning, he instinctively took a step back—a reaction he hadn’t even realized he made.

“That won’t happen,” Mi Lu said. “Don’t think too much about it. Go get some rest.”

With that, he hurried away.

The night pearl’s soft glow faded as Mi Lu stepped outside the curtain, leaving HuLü Yan in darkness.

But HuLü Yan stood there motionless, unaware of the darkness enveloping him.

Only after the light vanished did he finally move to his bed.

After making plenty of noise as he undressed and got under the covers, Mi Lu lay quietly on his bed on the other side of the curtain, listening intently. Only when he heard HuLü Yan settle did he relax and lie down.

Soon, Mi Lu’s breathing evened out into a gentle rhythm.

But HuLü Yan remained awake. He waited for a long time, listening until Mi Lu was deeply asleep, and then quietly sat up. He moved from his bed to the curtain.

On the other side lay Mi Lu’s bed.

From across the thick fabric, he seemed to catch the faint scent from Mi Lu, identical to the scent he had once smelled in the dark.

HuLü Yan took a deep breath, filling his chest with Mi Lu’s scent.

The calm surface of his heart was shattered, wild emotions surged up, twisting and tearing at his reason.

He had held back all day, afraid that his feelings would frighten Mi Lu.

But now, hidden from Mi Lu’s view, he couldn’t contain his desires any longer. He lifted the curtain and crossed an invisible line in the middle of the tent—a line that had bound and restrained him for the past four years.

He approached Mi Lu’s bed, crouched down, and gazed at Mi Lu’s face in the thick darkness.

Mi Lu lay on his side, one hand tucked under his cheek, slightly distorting the softness of his face.

Yet even like this, Mi Lu’s beauty was apparent.

HuLü Yan’s breathing slowed as he watched Mi Lu’s face.

His hand hovered in the air, fingers tracing Mi Lu’s face from a distance.

First his eyes.

Then his nose.

And finally his lips…

He meticulously traced every feature of Mi Lu’s face from afar.

So this is what Mi Lu looked like.

HuLü Yan’s gaze fixed on Mi Lu’s face, his longing intensified. He wanted nothing more than to engrave this face into his own memory.

In this moment, the blank face in his mind finally filled.

This was the most unique, most beautiful, and only face he had ever seen in color.

His breath hitched as his fingertip brushed Mi Lu’s lips.

In his sleep, Mi Lu’s mouth parted slightly, his long lashes fluttering, before he settled back into a peaceful slumber.

Mi Lu’s breath fell on HuLü Yan’s fingertip like a spark.

A flame ignited in an instant, racing up his arm and straight to his chest.

At that moment, he was entirely consumed by it.