Wen Hao awoke from the darkness, her gaze regaining clarity.

Before her eyes was a young man’s slightly upturned face.

That face was both familiar and strange, his obsidian-like eyes holding a trace of bewilderment.

Wen Hao felt confused for an instant.

Who was the person below?

Wait, below?

Wen Hao’s gaze unconsciously swept downward.

The winter jasmine flowers on her green gauze skirt were tender and delicate, her exposed goose-yellow shoe tips suspended in midair.

She was—

Wen Hao looked toward the young man again. A thunderbolt ruthlessly split open the chaos in her mind, making her suddenly recall the other party’s identity.

Prince Jing’s Heir, Qi Shuo!

Almost by instinct, Wen Hao was about to turn around, but violent dizziness suddenly struck. Her vision went black and she toppled down.

Qi Shuo stepped forward swiftly, spreading his arms to catch the young lady falling from the wall.

The magnified handsome face and physical contact left Wen Hao’s thoughts in tangles as she blurted out: “This isn’t right!”

Qi Shuo’s eyes were full of shock.

“You… can speak?”

Wen Hao’s eyes flew wide open as she covered her mouth with her hand: “I—”

Just one word, and teardrops came rushing out one after another.

A cry of alarm rang out: “Heir!”

Qi Shuo’s expression changed slightly. He gently pushed the young lady covering her mouth and weeping to the side and jumped up.

The servant boy Changshun came running at full speed, his face full of panic: “Heir, are you alright?”

“Don’t make such a fuss.” Qi Shuo lightly rebuked him, then extended his hand toward Wen Hao sitting on the ground. “Miss Wen, I’ll help you back up.”

The spring sunlight was just right. The young man’s hand was slender and fair, transparent like fine jade.

Wen Hao stared at that hand, not yet recovered from the enormous shock, only murmuring two words: “Not right…”

Qi Shuo’s eyes held confusion, yet he still patiently extended his hand.

“Isn’t that Wen Hao!”

A woman’s voice made everyone at the base of the wall turn their heads in unison.

Not far away, several young ladies in elaborate dress, their expressions varied, walked toward them.

“Elder Brother, what’s going on here?” The leading young lady in yellow robes let her gaze wander between Qi Shuo and Wen Hao, unable to conceal her shock on her pretty face.

The speaker was Prince Jing’s Mansion’s young princess Qi Qiong, Qi Shuo’s younger sister.

“Do you even need to ask? It must be Wen Hao spying on the Heir!” The young lady who had spoken first stood beside Qi Qiong, looking down condescendingly at Wen Hao sitting on the ground.

Wen Hao looked toward her with a wooden expression.

The contemptuous eyes, the disdainful look, the vividly eye-catching pomegranate-red skirt.

This must be a dream, right? She was actually dreaming of a scene from over three years ago.

Not long after Mother’s mourning period ended, it happened to be Princess Jing’s birthday. Mother had originally planned to bring her and her elder sister to Prince Jing’s Mansion to offer birthday congratulations, but in the end only brought Elder Sister.

Father had said, she cannot speak—why bring her out to be looked down upon by others?

Mother was displeased upon hearing this and quarreled with Father. She had pulled Mother back, indicating she didn’t want to go.

However, how could not being able to go be the same as not wanting to go?

When Grandfather was alive, he would try every means to coax her to go out, precisely because he felt sorry that she couldn’t speak and feared she would be too timid to see people.

Thinking of her deceased grandfather, she had returned to the General’s Mansion alone.

The General’s Mansion and Prince Jing’s Mansion were separated by only a wall. Without realizing it, she had walked to this place and, as if possessed by ghosts and spirits, climbed up the wall. Who knew that Prince Jing’s Heir was standing on the other side of the wall—they bumped right into each other.

Perhaps because she was too panicked, or perhaps because ill fortune had struck, sudden dizziness assailed her and she fell from the wall.

And then—

Wen Hao looked toward Qi Shuo, her gaze changing.

And then it was different.

At that time, Prince Jing’s Heir had pretended not to see her fallen on the ground and walked straight away.

She knew some martial arts. Originally, quietly climbing back over the wall wouldn’t have been a problem, but who knew her foot had twisted. With this delay, she was spotted by the young princess and the others who had wandered to this area.

Second Miss Tang Wei of Marquis Wuning’s Mansion delivered a stream of cold mockery and sarcasm, and very soon the matter of Second Miss Wen climbing the wall spread out.

But now, Prince Jing’s Heir had extended his hands to catch her and even planned to help her back up the wall.

Was she having a dream where Prince Jing’s Heir was eager to help others?

Wen Hao swept over each face, a trace of bitter smile overflowing from the corner of her mouth.

Then this dream was even worse than the situation three years ago.

At that time, because Prince Jing’s Heir had left first, what spread was only her reputation for acting willfully and not following propriety. But now she had fallen directly onto Prince Jing’s Heir…

“It was like this—” A low, mellow voice entered Wen Hao’s ears. “Just now my chest suddenly felt somewhat uncomfortable. Changshun wasn’t by my side, so I called out for help. Miss Wen is kindhearted and heard the call for help…”

Qi Shuo’s explanation made the young princess Qi Qiong’s complexion look somewhat better. She stared fixedly at Wen Hao: “Miss Wen, is this so?”

Wen Hao looked deeply at Qi Shuo once, then nodded slightly.

Qi Qiong’s expression relaxed slightly. Just as she was about to speak, she heard a “yes.”

This “yes” fell into everyone’s ears like a thunderclap.

“You, you can actually speak!” Tang Wei pointed her hand at Wen Hao. In her extreme shock, her voice became shrill.

The young princess Qi Qiong couldn’t help but step closer: “Miss Wen, you—”

The General’s Mansion was Wen Hao’s maternal grandfather’s home. Wen Hao had spent most of her time growing up here and had known Qi Qiong since childhood.

“Little Sister, let’s first send Miss Wen back.”

Qi Qiong realized it was inappropriate to surround her like this and signaled to her maidservant.

The maidservant stepped forward to help Wen Hao up.

Piercing pain made Wen Hao’s leg go soft, and cold sweat emerged.

She lowered her head to stare at her goose-yellow embroidered shoes, her brows tightly knitted.

Could she feel such pain from twisting her foot in a dream?

But if this wasn’t a dream, why could she speak?

“Miss Wen, are you alright?” Qi Qiong asked.

Wen Hao looked at her, then looked at Qi Shuo again, and put her hand in her mouth, biting down hard.

Blood marks seeped from her fair hand, staining her vermilion lips.

Cries of alarm rose one after another.

Tang Wei looked as if she had seen a ghost: “Wen Hao, you, have you gone mad?”

Under various gazes, Wen Hao raised her sleeve to cover her face and wept.

She had indeed gone mad.

So this wasn’t a dream after all.

“Second Sister, are you alright?” Having received the verbal message sent by the young princess Qi Qiong, Wen Chan hurried over.

Through tear-blurred eyes, Wen Hao struggled to see that face clearly and threw herself into Wen Chan’s embrace.

“Elder Sister, I can speak now…” Wen Hao pulled out the most suitable reason and wept aloud.

She was still alive, and Elder Sister was alive too.

Those tragedies—she still had time to prevent them.

“Second Sister, you can speak now? That’s wonderful, that’s wonderful…” Wen Chan spoke incoherently, immersed in joy.

Qi Qiong coughed lightly, interrupting the tender moment between sisters: “Miss Wen, Second Miss Wen has twisted her foot. You should take her back soon.”

Wen Chan wiped her tears and nodded repeatedly: “Yes, I’ll take Second Sister back right away. Thank you, Princess—”

Her voice paused as rationality returned: “Why would Second Sister be together with the Princess?”

Qi Qiong’s expression turned peculiar as she glanced at her elder brother, then stated the reason Qi Shuo had given.

Qi Shuo clasped his fists toward the Wen sisters: “I have implicated Miss Wen.”

“The Heir is too polite. Anyone who heard a call for help would not remain unmoved.” Wen Chan suppressed the doubt in her heart, accepted this reason, and together with the maidservant she’d brought, supported Wen Hao on the left and right as they departed.

“Hmph, I don’t believe—” Tang Wei’s following words were swallowed back down as Qi Shuo’s indifferent gaze swept over.

Wen Hao looked back, her gaze stopping on Qi Shuo’s face as lightly as a dragonfly touching water, then turned her head away again.

Since this wasn’t a dream but rather a return to over three years ago, why was Prince Jing’s Heir’s reaction different?