Crickets and ants go unnoticed by adults, but they are children’s most familiar playmates. Almost all children have crouched on the ground watching ants, imagining what their life underground might be like.

Life underground turned out to be not at all interesting.

Dark, damp, suffocating, to the point of not knowing whether one was still alive.

It even felt as if he had died several times already.

Burned to death.

Bled to death.

Mud clogging his nose and mouth, ants and insects crawling over his body, tree roots entangling him, wanting to transform him into nutrients.

Sometimes he felt his body becoming weightless, merging with the soil; other times, he felt the entire earth pressing down on him, unbearably heavy.

At times his ears were filled with noise—he could hear many sounds: burning fire, exploding stones, crawling insects, and crumbling soil.

At other times, it was silent, a complete blank, as if floating in chaos.

At some point in the chaos, there came a knocking sound, neither light nor heavy, then something suddenly stabbed down, penetrating the soil, penetrating his body, penetrating his throat, his chest, and lungs—

Xie Yanlai suddenly jerked upright, like a fish thrown onto shore. He gasped for breath, and before his eyes appeared a man’s face. The man was wrapped in a cloak, standing in the darkness, looking down at him—

“So you are still here.” A voice sounded in his ears.

The next moment, a lamp lit up in the darkness, illuminating the man’s face. Xie Yanlai recognized him: Deng Yi.

“You have incredible luck,” Deng Yi said, then shook his head. “No, I should say your fate is fortunate.”

Fortunate fate? Xie Yanlai felt like laughing. Well, yes, many people said he was fortunate—an illegitimate son who rose to become a member of the Xie family, living in luxury and high status.

Fortunate to survive the great fire.

But encountering Deng Yi—was that still fortunate?

This man, who had served as Grand Tutor to a second master.

A second master whom he had just killed.

“You’re fortunate to have met her,” Deng Yi’s voice fell from above.

Her? Who? The thought flashed through Xie Yanlai’s mind, and the next moment, Deng Yi released his hand. The lamp fell, its tiny flame instantly erupting into a blaze that engulfed him.

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

There was no scorching heat, no suffocating smoke.

Xie Yanlai opened his eyes, gasping for breath. Before him was darkness—no great fire, no Deng Yi.

He was no longer lying underground.

He was lying beneath a bed, or rather, inside a bed frame.

Although it was also an enclosed space, it was also cramped with no room to stretch, it was different from being buried in the earth.

He had been dreaming again, a dream within a dream.

He took a deep breath to calm himself.

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

Xie Yanlai couldn’t help but smile too.

Death, he didn’t mind it, nor was he afraid.

But being alive meant he could see her again.

“Xie Yanlai,” the girl floating above smiled and said, “Are you alright?”

Xie Yanlai wanted to respond, but he knew that as soon as he spoke, the dream would dissipate. In the past, he had always spoken to dispel dreams, but the only exception was when he dreamed of her.

When dreaming of her, he didn’t want to wake up.

He nodded his head slightly in answer.

“Are you alright?” The girl frowned, examining him. “Then why don’t you speak? Is your throat injured? Can’t you talk anymore?”

This annoying girl was just as bothersome in his dreams. Xie Yanlai glared at her.

“Oh no, he’s not even arguing back,” the girl murmured. “Something is broken.”

No matter what, he had to teach her a lesson, at least so that next time she appeared in his dreams, she wouldn’t be so nagging. Xie Yanlai said, “Plenty of people don’t want to talk, and it’s not because their voices are broken.”

The girl’s face bloomed with a smile, but then quickly turned sorrowful.

“It’s been so long,” she reached out to touch his face, saying, “Your voice is still hoarse, surely it was injured by the fire. Hasn’t Deng Yi given you any medicine?”

The hand touching his face was soft and warm. Could a dream’s touch be so real? Xie Yanlai was stunned. And also, she asked about Deng Yi?

“Chu Zhao?” he said.

Chu Zhao looked at him and answered.

“Chu Zhao!” Xie Yanlai suddenly sat up.

Only then did he realize that the bed board had been lifted open at some point.

This wasn’t a dream?

But he couldn’t get up. Chu Zhao had thrown herself at him, embracing him in the narrow bed frame.

Although this girl wasn’t particularly heavy, she still had weight when falling onto him—unlike the fire-blocking screen, unlike the wooden boards supporting the pit, unlike the layers of soil that had fallen on him…

This wasn’t a dream.

It was real.

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

“Did I hurt your wounds?” the girl immediately responded, supporting herself and sliding to the side. “Where are you injured? Cuts and sword wounds, or burns?”

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

Before he could finish, he saw tears slide down Chu Zhao’s face, one drop, two drops, quickly falling like rain, streaming down her face. She carefully leaned down, gently circling his neck with her hands, and rested beside him.

Xie Yanlai paused, then slowly said, “They’re not that severe. You came too late; the wounds have already healed.”

Chu Zhao, leaning against his side, said nothing, but Xie Yanlai knew she was still crying, her tears dampening his shoulder.

“Stop crying,” Xie Yanlai said, hesitating before raising his hand to pat her gently. “I’m fine now. A month has passed.”

Chu Zhao raised her head to look at him.

The curtains and bed board had been lifted, and though night had fallen, visibility wasn’t poor.

His face was pale and gaunt, hollowed out by thinness. If not for his still-dark thick eyebrows and slightly upturned phoenix eyes, she wouldn’t have recognized him as the proud and spirited Xie Yanlai.

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

Xie Yanlai looked at the tearful girl before him. The last time he had seen her cry so painfully was after her father’s death. A hundred emotions welled up in his heart, while countless warm currents spread throughout his body along his veins.

He couldn’t help but smile, saying: “Maybe my fate isn’t good, and I’m rather unlucky.”

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

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

“My fate is also very good, to have met you.”

Meeting him was her good fortune? Wasn’t she once blaming him for disrupting her trajectory, cutting off her path back to the border commandery?

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

For some reason, hearing these words was like being scorched by a great fire again, burning him with discomfort throughout his body.

“Stop saying nice things,” Xie Yanlai said, pushing against the girl’s forehead with his hand. “Get up, don’t crowd me.”

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

“Wait a moment, let me catch my breath,” she said, letting out a long sigh.

She must be tired too.

Learning that he had disappeared.

Learning that Xiao Xun had been assassinated.

Still having to steady her heart, control her spirit, direct troops and commanders, calmly and methodically.

For nearly a month, he had been hidden by Deng Yi inside the bed boards, mostly in unconsciousness.

Though unconsciousness and physical pain were suffering, those who remained conscious suffered more.

Xie Yanlai didn’t speak again, feeling the girl leaning on his shoulder breathing deeply; she had indeed fallen asleep.

“Me too,” he said softly.

Meeting you was heaven opening its eyes to me.

……

……

A-Le stood by the door, glanced at the inner chamber, then looked at the four or five physicians standing outside.

“When will the doctors examine his wounds?” she couldn’t help but ask softly.

Logically, the first thing upon finding him should have been to carry him out and check his injuries. How had the young miss also ended up jumping into the bed?

Xiao Man said: “It’s been a month already; it’s not urgent to check his wounds at this exact moment.”

She glanced inside.

“They’re asleep.”

Asleep… A-Le found it both amusing and exasperating. How had they fallen asleep again? And this time it wasn’t just Xie Yanlai, but the young miss had also joined him in slumber.

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

A-Le was silent for a moment, then said nothing more, gently closing the door.