Mole crickets and ants go unnoticed by adults, but they are children’s most familiar playmates. Almost every child has crouched on the ground watching ants, imagining what their lives underground must be like.

Life underground turned out not to be interesting at all.

Dark, damp, suffocating, not even knowing if one was still alive.

Even feeling like one had died several times already.

Burned to death.

Bled to death.

Mud and water blocking mouth and nose, ants and insects crawling over the body, tree roots entangling him, trying to turn him into nutrients.

Sometimes feeling the body light and airy, merging with the earth. Sometimes feeling the entire earth pressing down, unbearably heavy.

Sometimes the ears were very noisy, hearing many sounds—burning fire, exploding stones, insects crawling, loose earth tumbling down.

Sometimes quiet and completely blank, as if floating in chaos.

At some point, in the chaos came the sound of striking, neither light nor heavy, then suddenly stabbing down, piercing through the earth, piercing through his body, piercing through his throat, chest and lungs—

Xie Yanlai suddenly sprang up like a fish thrown onto shore. He gasped for breath in great gulps. Before his eyes appeared a man’s face. He wore a cloak, standing in darkness looking down—

“As expected, you’re still here,” a voice sounded by his ear.

The next moment, light appeared in the darkness, illuminating the man’s face. Xie Yanlai recognized him—Deng Yi.

“You really do have a strong life force,” Deng Yi said, then shook his head. “No, I should say you have good fortune.”

Good fortune? Xie Yanlai felt like laughing. Well, yes, many people said he had good fortune—a concubine’s son who leapt to become a member of the Xie family, living in silk and jade, high and mighty.

Good fortune, to survive the great fire.

But encountering Deng Yi—was that still good fortune?

This person who had taken a second master to become Grand Tutor.

That second master had just been killed by him.

“Your fortune is good—you met her,” Deng Yi’s voice fell from above.

Her? Who? The thought flashed through Xie Yanlai’s mind. The next moment, Deng Yi released his hand. The lamp fell down. The bean-sized flame instantly flared up, overwhelming and engulfing him.

Xie Yanlai let out a low cry, instinctively raising his hand to protect his head and face.

No scorching heat, no choking suffocation.

Xie Yanlai opened his eyes, gasping heavily. Before him was dimness—no great fire, no Deng Yi.

He also wasn’t lying underground anymore.

He lay beneath a bed, or rather, inside the bed frame.

Though also an enclosed space, though also cramped and unable to stretch out, it was different from being in the earth.

He’d been dreaming again, or rather, a dream within a dream.

He took deep breaths to calm himself.

He watched as above the bed frame gradually appeared a pair of eyes bright as stars, then an entire face emerged. Then this face smiled, and the dark, cramped bed chamber filled with spring light.

Xie Yanlai couldn’t help smiling too.

Death—he didn’t really mind it, didn’t fear it.

However, if he lived, he could see her again.

“Xie Yanlai,” the girl floating above said with a smile. “Are you alright?”

Xie Yanlai wanted to respond, but thinking that as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, the dream would scatter—in the past he would always speak to make the dream scatter, but the one exception was dreaming of her.

Dreaming of her, he didn’t quite want to wake up.

He nodded his head slightly instead of answering.

“Really alright?” the girl frowned, scrutinizing him. “Then why won’t you speak? Is your throat injured? Can’t speak anymore?”

This damned girl was annoying even in dreams. Xie Yanlai glared at her.

“It’s over—he won’t even argue back,” the girl murmured. “Must be truly broken.”

No matter what, he had to teach her a lesson, at least so next time she appeared in a dream, she wouldn’t be so nagging. Xie Yanlai said, “Plenty of people don’t want to talk. It doesn’t mean their throats are all broken.”

The girl’s face bloomed with a smile, but then immediately filled with sorrow.

“It’s been so long,” she said, reaching out to touch his face. “Your voice is still hoarse. You must have been choked by the fire. Has Deng Yi not been giving you medicine?”

The hand on his face was soft and warm. Could the sensation in dreams be this real? Xie Yanlai was startled. And also, why was she asking about Deng Yi?

“Chu Zhao?” he said.

Chu Zhao looked at him and acknowledged.

“Chu Zhao!” Xie Yanlai suddenly sat up.

Only then did he realize the bed frame had been opened at some point.

He wasn’t dreaming?

But he couldn’t get up—Chu Zhao lunged in and embraced him in this narrow bed chamber.

Though this girl wasn’t particularly heavy, landing on his body still had weight, different from the fire-blocking screen, different from the wooden boards supporting the pit, different from the layers of earth that had fallen on him…

Not a dream.

It was real.

“Chu Zhao!” Xie Yanlai said. “What are you doing!”

“Did I press on your wound?” the girl immediately responded, propping herself up and sliding to the side. “Where are you injured? Blade wounds or burns?”

Xie Yanlai snorted: “Injuries everywhere, all kinds of wounds…”

Before he could finish, he saw tears slide down Chu Zhao’s face, one drop, two drops, soon falling like rain, streaming down her face. She carefully lay down, gently circling his neck with her hands, leaning against his side.

Xie Yanlai’s words paused, then he said slowly, “Not that serious. You came too late—the wounds have all healed.”

Chu Zhao leaning against him didn’t speak, but Xie Yanlai knew she was still crying—tears soaking his shoulder.

“Stop crying,” Xie Yanlai said, hesitating before raising his hand to pat her lightly. “Really nothing wrong now. A month—it’s all passed.”

Chu Zhao raised her head to look at him.

The canopy and bed frame were both lifted. Though night had fallen, the view wasn’t unclear.

His face was pale, gaunt and sunken. If not for the still thick black eyebrows and slightly upturned phoenix eyes, she wouldn’t recognize this as that proud, spirited Xie Yanlai.

Chu Zhao’s eyes blurred with tears: “Xie Yanlai, why are you always in such a pitiful state?”

Xie Yanlai looked at the tear-streaked girl before him. The last time he’d seen her cry like this was after her father passed away. His heart surged with myriad feelings, while simultaneously countless warm currents spread through his blood vessels throughout his body.

He couldn’t help laughing and said, “Perhaps my fortune isn’t good—I’m rather unlucky.”

Chu Zhao shook her head: “No, your fortune is very good—good enough to do what you want to do and still survive.”

She buried her head in Xie Yanlai’s shoulder again.

“My fortune is also very good—to have met you.”

Meeting him was her good fortune? Wasn’t this different from when she blamed him for ruining her trajectory and cutting off her path back to the border commandery?

The girl against his shoulder raised her head again, looking at him: “I didn’t know then—meeting you was heaven opening its eyes to me.”

Something felt off. These words, hearing them, were like being scorched by fire again, burning him into restlessness.

“Stop saying nice things,” Xie Yanlai said, reaching out to push the girl’s forehead. “Get up quickly. Don’t crowd me.”

But Chu Zhao didn’t get up, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Wait just a moment, let me catch my breath,” she said, sighing a long, quiet sigh.

She must be very tired too.

Learning he’d disappeared.

Learning Xiao Xun had been assassinated.

Still having to press on with a worried heart, suppressing her spirit, deploying troops and commanding generals, unhurried and methodical, steady and sure.

For nearly a month, he’d been hidden by Deng Yi inside the bed frame, spending most of the time in unconscious sleep.

Though unconscious sleep and bodily pain were very painful, those who remained conscious suffered more.

Xie Yanlai didn’t speak again, feeling the girl leaning on his shoulder breathing deeply and evenly—indeed fallen asleep.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

Meeting you was heaven opening its eyes to me.

…

…

A’Le stood by the door, glancing at the inner room, then at the four or five physicians standing outside.

“When will the physicians examine his wounds?” she couldn’t help saying quietly.

Logically, the first thing after finding someone should be to carry them out and check their injuries. How did Miss also jump inside the bed frame?

Xiao Man said, “It’s already been a month. No rush to examine wounds at this moment.”

She glanced inside.

“They’ve fallen asleep.”

Fallen asleep… A’Le found it both amusing and helpless. How did they fall asleep again? This time it wasn’t just Xie Yanlai—Miss had also fallen asleep with him.

Xiao Man gave her a look: “Let them sleep. They’re both tired.”

A’Le was silent for a moment, said nothing more, and gently closed the door.