Fortunately, the person who asked was merely making conversation and didn’t press further, quickly returning to the previous topic.
The room was lively.
But the courtyard was quiet. Ting Yun stood alone in the dimly lit courtyard. She didn’t immediately return to serve Lanyin. Instead, she gazed at the brightly lit house next door, thinking about what Xiao Hong had said earlier—
“The master asked me who taught me to say those things.”
“The master told me to tell you that he understands.”
He understands…
Ting Yun’s heart pounded like a drum.
The way Lord Qi acted didn’t seem like he was indifferent to the mistress. Could it be that he had already taken a liking to her? Suddenly, many scenes flashed through her mind. Situations that wouldn’t have raised suspicions before now took on a different meaning with this new perspective. Ting Yun realized that Lord Qi’s behavior toward the mistress wasn’t just slightly different from how he treated others—it was vastly different!
She had originally been worried that Lord Qi might not like the mistress.
But it turned out he had already taken an interest. Ting Yun’s heart raced even faster, and she quickened her pace as she walked back, unable to suppress the smile on her face.
Now, the most important thing was to help the mistress resolve her inner turmoil.
…
Compared to the nervousness and unease she felt on the way there, Ting Yun returned in a much more cheerful mood.
Hong Xing and Lu Fu were sitting outside, tying knots. When they saw Ting Yun return, the two maids, who had just been scolded earlier, quickly stood up and obediently greeted her, “Sister Ting Yun.”
Noticing the lingering unease on their faces, Ting Yun slowed her steps. Although Hong Xing and Lu Fu weren’t as close to the mistress as she and Shi Yu, who had grown up by the mistress’s side, they had still been around for some years. Ting Yun had personally selected them to serve Lanyin back then. Softening her tone, she comforted them about the earlier incident.
“It wasn’t really about blaming you. It’s just that the mistress…” She wanted to say that she had been worried about the mistress being alone with an unrelated man, which could harm her reputation. But now that she was secretly trying to bring the mistress and this “unrelated man” together, she found herself at a loss for words.
Hong Xing and Lu Fu, unaware of her thoughts, weren’t petty-minded either. They knew they had made a mistake earlier. Regardless of anything else, it was improper for them, as servants, to wait outside while the mistress went in to handle matters herself.
Hearing Ting Yun’s comforting words, both of them teared up and began to admit their faults.
Once everything was out in the open, the awkward tension between them dissipated.
Remembering the smile on Ting Yun’s lips when she arrived, Hong Xing couldn’t help but sneak a question, “Is Brother Song coming soon? I noticed you were smiling earlier.”
Ting Yun didn’t explain but simply smiled and said, “I’ll go check on the mistress.”
The mistress’s emotional barriers ran deep.
Helping her overcome her inner struggles and open her heart to a new relationship wouldn’t be easy. Ting Yun feared that the more people knew, the more uncomfortable the mistress would feel if she found out. So, she didn’t dare reveal even a hint of what was going on, letting them tease and misunderstand as they pleased.
But as for Song Yan…
Thinking of his recent letter, he should indeed be arriving soon.
The thought of Song Yan softened Ting Yun’s heart. It had been too long since they last saw each other, and she missed him.
As she thought of Song Yan, she walked toward the bathing chamber. Seeing the mistress still soaking in the tub while Shi Yu dozed off nearby, Ting Yun didn’t wake her, knowing she had been running around all day and was exhausted. She tested the water temperature—it was still warm. Just as she was about to go outside to light some soothing incense for the night, she suddenly heard a loud splash behind her.
Turning around, she saw the mistress, who had been lying back in the tub with her eyes closed, suddenly sit up.
“W-What’s wrong?”
Shi Yu woke up groggily, still a bit dazed.
Ting Yun ignored her and instead looked at Lanyin, who appeared stunned. She softened her voice and asked, “Mistress, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”
Lanyin didn’t speak.
She was still in immense shock.
She had indeed dreamed, but it wasn’t exactly a nightmare. She had dreamed of her past life—of that dimly lit Buddhist hall—of the time when she persistently clung to him, and that man, as untouchable as a flower on a high mountain, had once lowered himself and pressed his cool, thin lips against the side of her neck.
She had been enveloped by the scent of ebony and sandalwood, entangled in overwhelming passion. She had seen a pair of eyes brimming with desire—
They were Qi Yubai’s eyes, and they were gazing at her deeply.
The immense shock left Lanyin breathless. She lowered her head, her breathing unsteady, her long black hair cascading down her back—some strands floating in the water, others clinging to her bare shoulders.
The room was brightly lit.
The bathwater, still clear and filled with floating petals, reflected her face. She saw her own expression—one of disbelief, as if she couldn’t accept that she had dreamed of something like this. She looked utterly dumbfounded.
She had lived two lifetimes and never had such an erotic dream—only to unexpectedly conjure up something so absurd today. And worse, it was interwoven with memories of her past life, making it feel incredibly real, as if it had truly happened.
But how could that have happened?
A mix of helplessness and guilt stirred in her heart. It was one thing to dream of such a thing, but how could she have imagined him like that? That man had always been disciplined and reserved—how could he possibly do such a thing?
She was getting… far too outrageous.
“Mistress?”
Ting Yun’s voice came again. By now, Shi Yu was fully awake as well. Seeing Lanyin remain silent, the two maids grew worried.
“Was it sleep paralysis?” Ting Yun frowned, just about to have Shi Yu call for a doctor or an experienced matron, when Lanyin finally spoke in a hoarse voice—
“…I’m fine.”
Hearing her speak at last, Ting Yun let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me, Mistress.”
By now, the bathwater had cooled. Worried she might catch a chill, Ting Yun had Shi Yu fetch a clean towel. She personally helped Lanyin dry off, changed her into nightclothes, and supported her to the outer chamber. As she carefully dried Lanyin’s hair, she studied her mistress’s expression and asked with concern, “Are you really alright?”
Lanyin shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Her emotions were still slightly unsettled, but she was no longer as shaken as when she first woke up. Calming herself, she asked, “Was the nourishing soup delivered? What did the lord say?”
At the mere mention of Lord Qi, Ting Yun’s mood lifted. Suppressing her excitement, she answered in the same composed manner as usual, “The lord said it tasted very good.”
Hearing this, Lanyin exhaled quietly. The tension in her brows eased slightly.
Observing her expression, Ting Yun added, “But judging by the severity of Lord Qi’s injuries, he’ll likely need a few more days of nourishment. Mistress, should we inform the kitchen to prepare more, and have it sent along with the evening snacks?”
“Eating something too nourishing too late at night isn’t ideal.” Lanyin paused briefly before saying, “Starting tomorrow, I’ll bring it with me when I go to Qi Manor for dinner.”
Ting Yun smiled and acknowledged the instruction.
By the time Lanyin’s hair was completely dry, half an hour had passed.
The night had deepened.
Lanyin did not have them keep watch, only instructing them to leave a single lamp on before allowing them to retire for the night.
She thought she would fall asleep easily tonight.
After all the exhaustion of the day, Lanyin should have drifted off without trouble.
But as she lay in bed, she tossed and turned for a long time, unable to sleep.
The moment she closed her eyes, Qi Yubai’s face surfaced in her mind—the way he leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, the way he sat upright in the chair with half his shoulder exposed…
She turned over again and again, yet sleep eluded her.
Her gaze finally landed on the locked box sitting atop her dressing table.
Five days had passed since the Dragon Boat Festival.
She had thought she would never open that box again in this lifetime.
Yet now, it felt as though a feather was incessantly brushing against her heart, tickling her thoughts, refusing to let her rest. She turned away, hoping that not seeing it would help.
But then, a voice echoed in her mind—“Gu Lanyin, open it. Go on, open it.”
Even covering her ears was useless. That voice seeped through every crack, burrowing straight into her soul.
The night deepened.
Lanyin struggled for a long time before finally sitting up.
She sat on the bed, barefoot, staring at the box with a conflicted gaze.
Time passed, little by little.
In the end, she let out a helpless sigh and got up.
Walking over to the dressing table, she retrieved a key and unlocked the box.
Inside lay a palm-sized black wooden case.
Lanyin bit her red lips tightly, reaching out her hand—as if to touch it.
Yet, just like that night on the Dragon Boat Festival, before her fingers could make contact, she withdrew them again.
She raised her hand, intending to snap the box shut.
But that voice in her head refused to cease—whispering endlessly, refusing to quiet down until she opened it.
Conflicted, restless…
The emotions entangled her, leaving her breathless as she braced both hands against the dressing table, her head bowed, panting softly.
The blurred reflection in the bronze mirror revealed her own struggle.
She lifted her head, gazing at the turmoil in her own eyes—only to see that, in the end, she was still defeated.
She had to open it.
Inside, the vibrant Changming Thread1Changming Thread (长命缕) refers to a traditional Chinese red thread that symbolizes blessings for longevity, safety, and protection. lay still, exactly as it had when he had given it to her.
Lanyin stared at it for a long time before finally clenching the thread tightly in her palm.
And, strangely enough, the moment she grasped it, that persistent voice in her mind vanished.
Even the turbulence in her heart gradually settled into calmness.
She understood why.
She had wanted to hold onto it from the very beginning—she had just been afraid.
Clearly, it had been nothing more than a simple act of kindness, a wish for her peace and safety, without any other intention.
And yet…
Lanyin looked at herself in the mirror and let out a self-mocking smile.
Still, she did not put it back.
She thought—
No one else would know anyway.
On this deep, quiet night, in her own room, she could secretly hold it—
Just for a little while.
Lanyin returned to bed, still clutching the Changming Thread.
The night was dark, the wind high.
She didn’t wear it, only pressed it tightly against her chest, holding it close.
She had assumed she would remain sleepless.
Yet this time, the moment she lay down and closed her eyes—
She fell asleep almost instantly.
—
In her dreams.
She saw Qi Yubai once again.
He sat quietly in the chair, his robe half undone, with his ink-black hair cascading down his back. His dark eyes gazed at her calmly.
Suddenly, he smiled.
With that smile, he reached out his hand toward her.
Lanyin thought—
She was probably going to fall apart.
She knew it was an illusion, a dream, an impossibility that could never exist.
Yet, as she watched him extend that hand toward her, she felt an unexplainable joy.
Fortunately, it was only a dream.
Only in such a dream—where no one could see, where no one would know—could she allow herself to sink into indulgence.
And so, she let herself reach out toward the man in her dream.