A lover from a past life? That didn’t count.

A lover from this life? That didn’t count either.

After all, her body had become someone else’s entirely.

So that only left him as a lover from her dreams.

But Lu Beicheng, in all likelihood, wouldn’t believe that either.

Still, she really didn’t know how else to explain it.

A form of address that constantly slipped from her own mouth couldn’t possibly refer to someone who didn’t exist.

Either way, it was, in some sense, roughly… something no one would ever believe existed.

Lu Beicheng, sure enough, fell silent.

Jiu’er knew right away that he must think she was brushing him off again.

“If I tell you the truth, you won’t believe it, so there’s nothing more I can say.”

She gave her wrist a light tug, but still couldn’t break free of his grip.

“Ninth Master…”

“Can you be certain that he’s alive somewhere in this world?” Lu Beicheng suddenly asked.

Jiu’er froze for a moment, and in an instant, sorrow welled up in her chest.

Even her eyes stung.

“I… don’t know.” Mu Mu was already gone; she had even seen his grave with her own eyes.

Though the coffin had been empty, Jiu’er knew in her heart that over a thousand years had passed—Mu Mu was surely long gone by now.

Then what about the Ninth Imperial Uncle?

Was the Ninth Imperial Uncle also…

“So you don’t even know whether he’s really real?” A strange glimmer flickered through Lu Beicheng’s eyes.

“He’s real, of course he’s real!”

The Ninth Imperial Uncle wasn’t just her lover—he was her husband!

How could he not be real?

Lu Beicheng looked down at her.

There was a resolute light in her eyes.

Though they were full of sorrow, there was a certainty in them that no force could ever shake.

Lu Beicheng didn’t understand what that certainty meant, but its strength was undeniable.

She’d never dated anyone, and yet a Ninth Imperial Uncle who existed only in her dreams—she was utterly certain that he was real.

Just like, in his own dreams, that girl who kept calling out to him…

Were the two situations the same?

And yet, somehow, they also felt different.

Because he couldn’t even be certain whether that girl was truly real, or if she existed only within his dreams.

“Ninth Master, can you let go of me now?” She truly couldn’t break free.

Who knew he had this much strength—if she struggled with all her might, she might not even keep her hand intact.

Lu Beicheng still didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her closer to himself.

The distance between them closed in an instant.

“Perhaps… you’re also that girl from my dreams.”

“What?” She wasn’t sure if she’d misheard, or simply hadn’t understood.

That girl from his dreams—what did that mean?

Lu Beicheng was still staring at her.

Zhen Jiu’er suddenly realized just how close the two of them had become.

So close! So very close!

Close enough that she could almost feel the breath leaving his lips.

That breath, which had been cold at first, had suddenly turned scorching hot.

An astonishing warmth!

“Ninth Master…”

“Have we met before?” Lu Beicheng was looking at her, gazing into the very depths of her eyes.

Jiu’er, though, gradually began to sense that he wasn’t looking at her at all.

It was as if he were looking through her, at someone else entirely.

“Have we… met before? Don’t you remember yourself, Ninth Master?”

“I was in a car accident when I was eighteen. My legs were ruined, and so was my head.”

“What do you mean?” Zhen Jiu’er’s breathing hitched.

Lu Beicheng looked at her, and after a long moment, said flatly, “Everything before I turned eighteen is a complete blank to me.”

Zhen Jiu’er’s eyes went wide.

That meant—whatever he had once experienced, he had forgotten it all himself?