Cui Wan had that dream again.
Warm sunlight spilled over the capital's main street, and the sweet scent of candied hawthorn drifted through the air. Her father's large hand was warm and strong as he led her through the bustling crowd. Suddenly, the surge of people separated them. She fell to the ground, her candied hawthorn shattered, and her hand hurt terribly where someone stepped on it. Tears blurred her sight.
Then a streak of silver stretched across her vision, shutting out all the chaos and danger.
The young man on horseback turned back and smiled gently at her, his brows relaxed, his face open and bright...
Even in her sleep, Cui Wan could not help her lips curving upward.
Yet that sweet dream did not last long.
A series of stifled, broken moans shattered her lovely dream without warning.
Cui Wan opened her eyes groggily. It took her several breaths to realize where she was-still beside Chu Moqi's bed, where she had fallen asleep slumped over the edge.
The moaning came from the bed.
She immediately looked up. The candle had burned low, its light growing dimmer. Chu Moqi's brows were tightly knitted, another fine layer of cold sweat had seeped onto his forehead, and his lips moved as he muttered incoherently.
"Brother... Brother..." His voice was hoarse, filled with pain and urgency. "Don't... don't... go away... don't touch him..."
Then his legs began spasming and twitching slightly beyond his control again. Though it was not as violent as during his attack, the unnatural trembling still sent Cui Wan's heart leaping into her throat.
A nightmare... he was having another nightmare.
The crimson, crazed eyes he had worn during his last nightmare, when he had nearly strangled her, surfaced vividly before Cui Wan again. The finger marks on her neck had long since faded, yet they seemed to ache faintly once more.
Enormous fear seized her in an instant. Instinctively, she drew back her hand and leaned away, even wanting to leap up and flee the room at once.
Would he wake? Would he mistake her for an enemy and clamp his hands around her throat again, just like last time?
Cui Wan's breathing quickened, her hands and feet turning icy.
But... he lay right there, moaning in pain, his brows drawn so tightly together that he could find no peace even in sleep. His legs were still trembling slightly...
Cui Wan remembered his agonized roar that morning, remembered the wretched sight of him fallen on the floor, drunk into unconsciousness, remembered that glaring lump on his forehead...
If... if she ran away, would he fall off the bed again?
But... if she stayed, what if he lost control in his nightmare and hurt her, just like last time?
Her small body trembled faintly with fear, yet the struggle and worry in her tear-bright almond eyes only deepened.
At last, Cui Wan sniffled, as though making some sort of decision, and edged forward again, cautiously and very, very slowly.
She dared not touch him. She merely extended a slightly trembling little hand and held it above his arm. After a moment's hesitation, she began patting his arm through the quilt, tentatively, ever so lightly.
Cui Wan's movements were awkward and stiff, her patting without any rhythm and so light it was barely perceptible. At the same time, she made her voice as quiet and gentle as possible, clumsily repeating in a soft tone like someone soothing a child, without even realizing it herself:
"It's all right... A-Qi... it's only a dream..."
"Don't be afraid... it doesn't hurt anymore..."
"It's all right now... it's all right..."
She repeated those few simple words over and over. Her voice was thin and weak, yet strangely carried a soothing power. Her eyes stayed fixed on Chu Moqi's face, fearing he might suddenly wake and fly into a frenzy, yet hoping this might help him rest more peacefully.
Perhaps her clumsy soothing truly worked; perhaps the gentle patting and murmuring penetrated the nightmare's barrier. Chu Moqi's tightly knitted brows seemed to ease a fraction, his indistinct muttering gradually faded, and the slight, uncontrollable spasms in his legs slowly subsided. Though his breathing remained somewhat heavy, it was no longer so rapid and pained, and he seemed to sink back into a deeper, less troubled sleep.
Only then did the taut string of Cui Wan's heart suddenly slacken. She stopped patting him and watched cautiously for a while. Once she was certain Chu Moqi really had fallen asleep again, with no sign of waking, she finally released a long, silent breath.
That was close...
She felt a thin sheen of sweat covering her back.
Once she had confirmed Chu Moqi was all right, the sleepiness she had been stubbornly resisting surged over her again. She slumped back against the bedside, resting her chin on her folded arms, her face turned toward Chu Moqi's sleeping features.
Candlelight danced over his face, outlining his straight nose and tightly pressed lips. Without his waking viciousness or the agony of his nightmares, he was as quiet now as... an exhausted child.
As Cui Wan watched him, the sweet dream interrupted earlier rose unbidden in her heart again.
That young man in silver armor on a white horse, that fleeting glimpse of a faint smile...
Yet in the blink of an eye, all that remained before her was this pale, thin face with its perpetually furrowed brows, this body that frequently ached and spasmed and could not walk, and those eyes always filled with wariness, disgust, and violence.
A fierce, indescribable ache and sorrow suddenly stung her nose.
It was as though something incomparably precious and glittering had been forcibly shattered, sullied, then abandoned in a corner no one knew.
Her gaze slowly shifted from Chu Moqi's face toward the boundless darkness outside the window, as though it could pierce these layers of courtyards and see the distant battlefield of South Mountain, which had swallowed countless lives.
South Mountain, oh, South Mountain, you lost my young man...
Cui Wan raised a hand and wiped haphazardly at her eyes, then took several deep breaths, trying hard to suppress that bitter ache.
After one last look at Chu Moqi, whose breathing was steady, Cui Wan closed her eyes again and buried her face in her arms.
This time, she had no more dreams of candied hawthorn and the young man on the white horse.
Only the patter of seemingly endless autumn rain outside the window accompanied her as she sank into exhausted sleep. And the trace of a tear, not yet dry, shimmered with a faint, wet gleam in the dim candlelight.
The birds outside the window chirped and chattered, their racket enough to give anyone a headache.
Chu Moqi was forcibly roused by the clamor.
The first thing he felt as his awareness returned was a splitting headache, as though a heavy hammer had struck him repeatedly. His temples throbbed, his throat was parched, and even his entire chest felt sick and hollow from the hangover.
He slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. His vision remained blurred for several breaths before gradually clearing.
Still not dead?
He had poured down so much strong liquor, yet he could still wake up.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a bitter, self-mocking smile. Perhaps for this broken body, even seeking death was a luxury.
His head felt ready to split. Unable to help raising a hand to massage his temple, he keenly caught a patch of color that did not belong here beside the bed out of the corner of his eye.
Pale pink fabric, a few loose strands of soft hair, and... a little downy head rising and falling slightly with each breath.
Chu Moqi abruptly froze, his pupils contracting.
Cui Wan?!
Why was she here!
She lay slumped over the edge of his bed, sound asleep, one hand resting unconsciously on the bedside, very close to his.
Last night... last night he had drunk... and then...
His memories seemed shrouded in thick fog, a chaotic blank. He only vaguely remembered being unable to unravel the knots in his heart, wanting nothing but strong liquor to douse the shame, anger, and self-loathing of having his most wretched side exposed, so he had sought out the strongest burning-blade liquor... What happened afterward? How had he collapsed drunk? How had he been settled here? He knew none of it.
But even thinking with his senseless toes, he knew how little dignity an unconscious, drunken cripple could possibly have. Had he fallen out of his wheelchair? Gone on a drunken rampage? Babbled nonsense? Twitched and spasmed because his pain had not subsided? Even... lost control of his bladder or bowels? He feared none of those ugliest sights, the ones he least wanted anyone to see, had been spared.
She... how much had she seen?
That thought was like a basin of ice water, instantly extinguishing his hungover stupor and sending a chill from head to toe, along with... uncontrollable panic.
He had only lost control of his emotions and tried to escape through drinking because she had witnessed his wretched state during an attack. But now? Had he performed an even more disgraceful drunken spectacle in front of her?
What were Yan Qin and Yan Huai good for! How could they have let her in? And even let her stay here watching over him all night?!
Just as Chu Moqi's thoughts churned with shock, anger, panic, and vexation, the figure at the bedside seemed disturbed by his movements. Her lashes fluttered, and she slowly woke.
Cui Wan opened her eyes groggily, blinking in bewilderment at first. When she made out the now-awake Chu Moqi on the bed, a glimmer of delighted surprise instinctively flashed through her still-sleepy almond eyes.
"You're awake..." She had only just spoken, her voice still soft and drowsy from sleep.
Yet in Chu Moqi's eyes, that delighted surprise was like a needle stabbing him viciously. Almost instantly, he raised every spike on his body, forcibly suppressing all his chaotic emotions. Stiffening his neck, he first checked swiftly and discreetly out of the corner of his eye-
Good. The quilt covered him securely, and his useless legs showed no sign of spasming. He adjusted his position again, making sure the outline beneath the quilt looked as normal as possible, not so much like two limp, powerless, worthless legs.
Then his face immediately darkened, returning to its usual cold and savage expression, his sharp gaze shooting toward Cui Wan.
The sudden change in his expression frightened away every last trace of Cui Wan's drowsiness. The hint of joy that had just surfaced instantly froze and shattered. She hurriedly rose from the low stool and instinctively took a small step back, putting distance between them, her little hands helplessly clutching the hem of her clothes.
Seeing her frightened appearance only intensified the inexplicable irritation, shame, and anger in Chu Moqi's heart. He opened his mouth with a merciless rebuke, his voice hoarse from his hangover and dry throat, lending it an even harsher edge:
"Who gave you permission to come in?!"
He stared at her little face as it instantly turned pale, repeating word by word the warning seemingly carved into his very bones: "I told you not to come near me. Did you let my words blow past your ears? Or... have you grown tired of living?"
"I... I..." Cui Wan trembled all over at his fierce tone. Her eyes immediately reddened, and her voice took on a tearful note. "You... yesterday, you..."
The moment she said "yesterday, you," the fire in Chu Moqi's heart flared even higher.
Here it came! She really was going to bring up yesterday! What did she want to say? That he had been drunk as a puddle of mud? Describe whatever ugly spectacle he might have made? Or use this as an excuse to display her "concern," making him seem even more pathetic and ridiculous?
Overwhelming shame and anger at being pried into instantly engulfed him. He did not want to hear it! Not a single word!
"Get out!" He cut her off sharply, his agitation and hangover making his voice even hoarser and harsher, even lending it a barely perceptible trace of discomfiture.
Cui Wan shuddered again at his roar. Tears swam in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back. Her lips moved, and she still gathered the last of her courage to add quietly and quickly, "I... I'll go... you... remember to drink some more sobering soup... and remember to put a compress on the injury on your forehead..."
The injury on his forehead?
Chu Moqi froze, lifting a hand almost instinctively to touch his forehead.
"Hiss-!"
A sharp pain shot through the place his fingertips touched, and he felt a distinctly raised, hard lump.
Such... such a huge bump?!
He snatched his hand back, shocked and incredulous. Last night... he had hit his head too? From falling? How had he fallen? In front of her?
How ugly that must have looked! How wretched!
An even fiercer surge of shame and anger rose in his heart. Almost instinctively, driven by an urge to hide every disgraceful part of himself, he yanked up the quilt and pulled it over his entire head and face with a rustle, wrapping himself tightly in darkness. Only his muffled voice, laden with anger and humiliation, emerged from beneath it:
"Get. Out!"
Watching his reaction, Cui Wan exhausted her last shred of courage. Biting her lip and holding back her tears, she dared not say another word. Trembling, she withdrew from the room with quiet, careful steps and gently closed the door.
She was so miserable.
Why was he acting like this again?
Last night, when she had soothed him softly, he had clearly seemed to hear her and quieted down. She had thought... thought...
Although she had long expected that he would probably return to that fierce manner when he woke, still... still, she felt so miserable, so wronged. She had watched over him all night, worried beyond measure, only to be greeted once again by merciless dismissal and icy threats the moment he woke.
Only when he heard the door close did Chu Moqi abruptly fling off the quilt, gasping for breath, his face alternating between red and white. The lump on his forehead throbbed, and his hangover headache had not eased in the slightest, yet neither compared to the storm-tossed seas within his heart.
Cui Wan... just what had she seen?
Perhaps right now she was hiding in some corner, secretly laughing at him with Qiaoju-look at that cripple, not only were his legs broken, but his brain was no good either. He got drunk and fell until his head looked like a pig's, then shouted and screamed like a madman...
The thought made him want to slap himself! Why had he drunk last night? Why had he chosen to drink right after she had seen him at his most wretched?! He had simply invited humiliation upon himself!
And Yan Qin and Yan Huai!
Chu Moqi's fury finally found a clearer outlet. He gritted his teeth, veins faintly standing out on his forehead.
Those two brats, just how had they kept watch last night? How could they have let her in? And even let her stay here the entire night!
All that remained in the room was Chu Moqi's heavy breathing and the increasingly clamorous birdsong outside the window, as though both were mocking his present wretchedness and impotent rage.
You two... just you wait!