Chapter 088
Chapter 88: Reverse Dreamwalking
Inside the inner room, the Buddha light curling around Lin Qing Xuan’s fingertips pulled back all at once, and he frowned hard. He sensed Xiao Man’s breath sink away, then thought with a jolt: [She fell asleep.]
In the bamboo basket, the Heart Demon Tuan Tuan lay flattened like a cat pancake, the black tip of its tail flicking now and then, its golden eyes full of mocking glee as it clicked its tongue: “Tsk, that girl was too sleepy to hold on and toppled right over. Who can really do sutra copying until dawn? Only you, you blockheaded mule, would believe that.”
It grinned to show two sharp rows of teeth, stabbing at his heart on purpose as it added: “That Demonic Qi has probably already slipped into her body, why are you not rushing into her dream to take a look?”
It drew out its voice, dripping malice as it hissed: “Otherwise, who knows which wild man she’ll be rolling around with in there.”
“Beast,” Lin Qing Xuan said, his eyes turning icy as the pressure around him dropped to something frightening: “If you hadn’t insisted on sucking the Demonic Qi in the Princess Manor, she would never have been dragged into this.”
Tuan Tuan snorted, curled into a ball, and pretended to sleep, while inside it beat an invisible drum like mad: [He’s panicking. He’s panicking! The celibate Buddha’s Chosen finally snapped!]
Lin Qing Xuan stopped wasting words on it, sat cross-legged, and entered meditation, sending his spirit sense like an unseen wind straight into the depths of Xiao Man’s dream.
His consciousness sank and found a place he had never seen. In a dim room, glowing long tubes hung from the ceiling, casting a pale light. Strange square desks and chairs filled the space. On the wall, a black frame kept jumping with changing numbers.
And Xiao Man—no, right now she called herself Jiang Yi Yi—sat at a desk, her fingers flying over a lit board, her focus so sharp it looked like obsession. She wore a fitted white short top and a tight skirt wrapped around her hips. Her hair was tied high, a thin wire hung from her ear, and she muttered to herself as she worked: “Change it again, the last time. This promotion report has to be perfect.”
Lin Qing Xuan froze and wondered: [Is this her past life?]
He moved closer and called softly, his voice careful: “Xiao Man.”
At the desk, Jiang Yi Yi jerked up, red-veined eyes full of irritation as she snapped: “Why won’t you stop haunting me? I already said I’m not Xiao Man, I’m Jiang Yi Yi.” She jabbed at the badge on her chest and barked, “See the name? Jiang Yi Yi.”
She dropped her head and hammered the keys again, her tone so eager it sounded a little crazed as she said: “I finally made it back. Tomorrow is the promotion meeting, the manager told me himself I’m the pick. Do you know how much I’ve paid for this day?”
Her voice sharpened as her grin twisted bright and shaky, her eyes glittering with stubborn fire as she said: “All these years I didn’t dare date, I worked overtime until midnight, I never took a single day of leave, all for today.”
This was the last night before she died in that life. It was also the deepest regret of her whole life.
The scene snapped to a bright meeting room. Jiang Yi Yi stood before a projector screen, lively and sure as she presented her promotion report, saying: “Based on the full set of data this quarter, I suggest the department can optimize the following processes going forward.”
People clapped below. The manager at the head seat nodded, satisfied, and said: “Very well. From today, Jiang Yi Yi is promoted to department head.”
She smiled dazzlingly as her eyes dampened against her will and thought: [I have waited far, far too long for this day.]
The scene shifted again to a noisy bar strewn with colored lights. Jiang Yi Yi clinked glasses with friends, surrounded by a few strong young men with bulging muscles. She was tipsy and bold. She reached out to squeeze one model’s biceps and laughed loud and unrestrained as she said: “Wow, the feel is not bad.”
Her friend hyped her up with a shout: “Yiyi, you got your promotion and raise. We are not going home sober.”
Watching, Lin Qing Xuan felt the vein at his temple jump. He strode forward, grabbed her unruly wrist, and forced down his anger as he said: “Xiao Man.”
Jiang Yi Yi flung off his hand, her drunken gaze sliding up and down him as she slurred: “Oh my, where did this handsome guy come from? Do bars do ancient cosplay now? Sorry, I didn’t order your type.” She pushed him with a playful smile and tossed her eyes back to the nearby muscle man as she said: “Muscle men fit me better. You’re wrapped up tight from neck to heel, I can’t even feel your abs, boring.”
She hiccupped, eyes sultry as she drawled: “Sister paid for this.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s eyes went utterly cold. Buddha power throbbed out from him, and the dream froze in an instant. The noise cut off, the lights stilled, and every person became a lifeless wax figure.
“Jiang Yi Yi,” he said, his voice low and commanding: “Look closely. This is not your world.”
Her drunkenness vanished in a blink as she stared. The office, the meeting room, the bar—everything blew away like dust in a wind. Only a vast dark emptiness remained.
She looked down and found herself again in a coarse homespun dress, a rightful Xiao Man with work-born calluses in her palm. Her voice shook as she whispered: “I… did I come back?”
Lin Qing Xuan stepped forward, gripped her thin shoulders, and met her eyes with a steady burn as he said: “Your past-life obsession needs to be put down.”
She snapped her head up, and confusion was drowned by a storm of rage and refusal as she shouted: “Put it down, why should I?” Despair ripped at her scream as she cried: “I don’t want to be Xiao Man. I don’t want to be a maid. Why do other people who transmigrate get to be princesses or noble ladies, but I have to be a maid serving others?”
She glared through big falling tears and said: “I was sold to your house for eight years. Eight whole years without freedom.” Her voice broke as she raged on: “Worst of all, when I was finally about to make it out, we ended up with that Shared Dream and Sense.”
Losing control, she grabbed Lin Qing Xuan’s arm and bit down with all she had. He grunted, his muscles locking with pain, yet he did not push her away. He lowered his eyes to her shaking back and let the sharp hurt spread from his arm as he thought: he knew this was the deepest anger and hate inside her, and maybe spilling it out would help.