Your Erotic Dreams and Your Nightmares Are Both Me

Fuzhi stood beneath the covered walkway, watching the daylight creep inch by inch across the window lattice, then retreat inch by inch.

From the first glimmer of dawn to the sun high overhead, from the westering shadows to the gathering dusk.

She let out a long sigh and lowered her voice to speak to Qingyan beside her:

"Qingyan, miss cried out so terribly last night, and she hasn't come out all day today. She hasn't eaten a single bite, either... Is she really all right?"

Qingyan shook her head, two rosy clouds blooming on her cheeks:

"How would I know?"

She paused, then lowered her voice further:

"But around noon, things went quiet inside, so I worked up the courage to ask if they wanted some snacks sent in. Young master Zhigui answered, so I took a plate in."

Fuzhi hurriedly leaned closer. "What did you see in there?"

Qingyan's face grew redder still, and her voice dropped almost to a whisper:

"It was mortifying. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, from the door all the way to the bed, and there was... there was that smell, too. I can't bring myself to say it."

She stole a glance at the tightly shut door:

"Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced inside the bed curtains. Young master Zhigui was leaning against the headboard, and miss was lying on his lap. I don't know what they were whispering about; their voices were very low, but miss's voice was so seductive that even I, a woman, couldn't bear it. I didn't dare listen closely. I put down the snacks and came right back out."

Hearing that, Fuzhi's heart, which had been hanging in suspense all day, finally settled back into her chest:

"Then miss should be all right."

The two were still whispering when a weak voice suddenly came from the room:

"Fuzhi, Qingyan-prepare water."

They exchanged a glance, both unable to keep the corners of their mouths from rising, and answered together:

"Yes, miss."

A quarter of an hour later.

Steam filled the bathing pool, and a few rose petals floated on the warm water, their fragrance curling through the air.

Qiao Shuyi sat on Zongzheng Heng's lap, leaning lazily against his chest.

She twined a lock of his dark hair that hung over his chest around her fingertip, thoroughly absorbed in playing with it.

The hot water had given her skin a faint pink flush.

Zongzheng Heng leaned against the wall of the pool, his gaze drifting vaguely toward some point in empty space.

Was this what it felt like to indulge oneself?

The languor of satisfaction had yet to leave his body, and every limb and bone felt lazy.

Yesterday's madness could still be blamed on the aphrodisiac incense, but what about today, when they had spent the entire day in wanton pleasure?

It truly felt like a dream.

But the girl in his arms, with her ice-like skin and jade-like bones, and the little movements of her fingers as she wound his hair around them-all told him it was no dream.

He had clearly already decided to kill her.

Yet here he was, holding her like this, soaking in the same pool with her, as inseparable as glue and lacquer.

He didn't know what he was doing.

It seemed he really had... been brainwashed by this madwoman.

No.

He had to get the antidote to the Power-Dissolving Powder as soon as possible. He had to end this absurd game of keeping a male favorite as soon as possible.

He didn't deny that he occasionally indulged in the sickly tenderness she offered him.

But so what?

He would kill her.

He certainly would.

Once he returned to the capital, everything that had happened these past days would be nothing but a dream.

When he woke, he would still be the emperor, lofty and untouchable, cold and indifferent.

No one would know what he had endured at the Prince of Jin'an's Manor.

He would kill her.

And then forget it all.

As he was thinking, Qiao Shuyi suddenly lowered her head and pressed her lips to the two characters beneath his collarbone.

It was a light kiss, yet a tingling sensation burst from that inch of skin.

Zongzheng Heng gripped her chin and raised her face, forcing her to look at him.

His eyes were dark, their weight suffocating.

Qiao Shuyi could only laugh inwardly. Not pretending to be docile anymore?

"Qiao Shuyi, must you remind me every moment that I am a sinner, that with you, I have no dignity as a man?"

"Zhigui, I told you, those are only shackles you put on yourself. What do worldly judgments and other people's gossip have to do with you and me?"

"Or-" She suddenly tilted her head, her fingertip tracing lightly beneath her own collarbone. "What if I had 'Zhigui' carved here too?"

Zongzheng Heng's pupils contracted slightly.

"You can carve it yourself."

There was not a trace of jest in her gaze, only an earnestness that bordered on reverence.

"That way, you'll have me in you, and I'll have you in me. Perhaps in our next lives, this mark will bring us together again."

As she spoke, her eyes seemed to fill with anticipation.

Zongzheng Heng pressed his lips together, at a loss for words for a moment.

She wanted him to carve characters into her body.

And that would make them even?

How could there be such a woman in this world?

She treated humiliation as a token, a brand as a pledge, trampled worldly rules underfoot, and brushed aside other people's judgments like strands of cobweb.

She feared neither pain nor shame, neither people pointing fingers at her nor his hatred.

Zongzheng Heng lowered his eyes. "There's no need."

His gaze held a hint of mockery:

"Qiao Shuyi, you treat worldly conventions as nothing. That's your affair. But you want to use something you don't care about in exchange for what someone else does care about. What a clever calculation."

"Zhigui, how can you think that of me? In this world, I care about no one except my closest blood relatives. I only care about you."

The corner of Zongzheng Heng's mouth twitched, and an indescribable irritation welled up in him.

"You only care about me? What about Fuzhi? What about Qingyan?"

Those maids had served her for more than ten years, growing up at her side, dressing her hair, helping her change, and cleaning up her messes. Through wind and rain, they had remained by her side all these years.

Did she truly not care about them at all?

Qiao Shuyi was taken aback, then gave a soft laugh.

"Zhigui, even they can make you jealous?"

She leaned closer, until her nose almost touched his:

"If I sent them away, then, would you stop being angry?"

Zongzheng Heng said nothing.

For a moment, he couldn't tell whether she meant it.

There was nothing this madwoman wouldn't do.

If she said she would send them away, perhaps she really would.

But those two had served her for more than ten years. Even he would show some regard to the old nanny who had served him since childhood.

His heart sank. Before he could speak, Qiao Shuyi had already raised her voice and called outside:

"Fuzhi, Qingyan."

The curtain lifted, and the two maids entered one after the other.

"Miss, what are your orders?"

Qiao Shuyi leaned lazily against Zongzheng Heng without so much as lifting an eyelid:

"You've served me for more than ten years. Today, I'll give you your freedom. I've burned your contracts of servitude. Pack your things and leave the manor."

The color drained from Fuzhi's face, and she fell to her knees with a thud:

"Miss, what has this servant done wrong? Why are you sending me away?"

Qingyan knelt as well, her eyes reddening:

"Miss, this servant has lived in the manor since childhood. Where could I go if I left? Please give this servant another chance."

"I'm only giving you your freedom, not taking your lives."

"You've been with me all these years, so I imagine you've saved up quite a bit in your own little coffers. When you leave, I'll give you another sum to help you settle down. Wouldn't it be good to go out, marry and have children, and live as ordinary women do?"

"That's enough. There's no need to say more. My mind is made up. You'll leave the manor tomorrow."

Fuzhi opened her mouth, wanting to say more, but Qingyan reached out to stop her and gently shook her head.

The two maids kowtowed, then rose and withdrew.

Zongzheng Heng watched the swaying beaded curtain, his heart weighed down as though by a stone.

She really had sent them away.

A bitter feeling rose in his throat. "Qiao Shuyi... you have no heart."

"That's right. My heart is all with you."

She tilted her head and looked at him, her gaze full of anticipation. "Zhigui, are you not angry anymore?"

Zongzheng Heng looked down at her smiling, carefree face and suddenly found it utterly absurd.

Angry?

It had long since ceased to be a question of anger.

It was hatred.

He had once considered sparing her life, but she had insisted on causing trouble, insisted on carving characters into his body, insisted on crushing that little bit of pity with her own hands.

Zongzheng Heng felt something lodged in his chest, leaving him deeply ill at ease.

"I'm not angry anymore." His voice was low, as though he were speaking to himself. "Didn't you say it yourself? Since nothing can be changed for now, one might as well enjoy the moment."

Qiao Shuyi turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, beaming.

"Mm! Zhigui, I'm so happy you've come around."

She raised a hand to his handsome, coldly stern face. Her fingertips slipped from his brow bone to the bridge of his nose, then from his nose to the peak of his lips, unable to tear themselves away.

"Zhigui, admit it. You like me. I can feel it, and I know my temperament makes you hate me, but I don't care. Your love, your hatred-they're all me."

"You're such a restrained person, and I'm the only one in this world who can make you step out of line. Every time you lose control, every moment of madness, every emotion you're unwilling to show others-I gave them all to you."

"I'm... so excited."

"So excited that-" She tilted her head, an innocent sort of madness in her gaze. "I hope that someday, I'll be in your erotic dreams, and in your nightmares too."

Zongzheng Heng's pupils abruptly contracted.

Then he gripped her waist, planted his feet on the bottom of the pool, and stood, pressing her against its edge.

Water splashed in every direction, wetting her hair and his shoulders. Amid the rising steam, her laughter rang as clear as silver bells.

He lowered his head and silenced that merciless mouth.

Once more, the pool was filled with the colors of spring.

Ripples spread across the water, circle after circle, flowing outward and then washing back.

Someone's heart, too, followed those ripples, stirring gently, silently, again and again.