Chapter 14

Chapter 14: A Night of Social Death

That kick last night had been merciless.

In her dream, Lin Qing Xuan’s devastating face was still tucked against the hollow of her neck. His breath scalded her skin, damp and insistent, as he called her name like a sin.

“Sister.”

The sound was so clingy it raised goosebumps all over her.

Xiao Man’s heart went cold. She drew up her knee and, with everything she had, drove it upward—

“Ao—!”

A shriek tore through the soft haze of the dream.

The Buddhist Scion’s handsome face contorted. He clutched his lower belly and curled on the floor like a boiled shrimp, shaking, slick with cold sweat. Not a shred of that aloof, noble calm remained.

Xiao Man leaned down with a thin, vicious smile.

“Calling me sister?”

Her fingertip tapped his forehead again and again, right where sweat beaded from pain.

“Go on. Say it again.”

Lin Qing Xuan’s lips were bloodless. He couldn’t force out a single word—only stared at her with eyes rapidly reddening, disbelief flooding them.

How could she dare?

Xiao Man’s voice carried the lazy cruelty of a cat toying with a mouse. “Aren’t you the Buddhist Scion who preaches purity and restraint?”

She tilted her head. “What, once it’s a dream, you get to do whatever you want? Even throw away your dignity?”

Before the last word settled, the dream shattered like a mirror struck by a stone. White light flared, blinding—

Bang.

Xiao Man jolted awake.

Her heart was racing. She was in bed, wrapped tight in a thick quilt. Outside, the night was still ink-black, and the candle in the room had long burned out.

“Strange…”

She frowned. She clearly remembered dozing off slumped at the table. How had she woken up in bed?

Don’t tell her Lin Qing Xuan had been handsy in the dream and carried her here in reality too.

She didn’t feel like digging into it.

Whatever.

She rolled over, hugged the soft quilt, and sank back into sleep—satisfied to the bone.

At dawn, the manor exploded.

A knot of young maids gathered, whispering as if the walls might listen, unable to hide their excitement.

“Did you hear? The Buddhist Scion—the eldest young master—fell out of bed last night!”

“Huh? Really? Does he sleep that wildly?”

“Wildly? I heard it was bad. Brother Stone said he hit hard enough to alarm Doctor Wang. They sent for him before sunrise!”

Xiao Man passed with a washbasin, ears perked, her mouth tugging upward no matter how she tried to stop it.

Serves him right.

She hadn’t held back in that dream. Lin Qing Xuan had yowled like he was being slaughtered… and in reality he’d actually tumbled out of bed?

This empathic resonance was absurdly strong.

Delight bubbled inside her. Now his “treasure” would need a few days to recover. Maybe he’d finally quiet down.

In Lin Qing Xuan’s room, the air was heavy.

He looked pale as paper, propped against the headboard, the vein at his temple jumping with every breath. Doctor Wang withdrew his hand from his pulse, stroking his beard; his face was red to the ears, expression so awkward it bordered on unnatural.

“Young master… there’s no serious harm. It’s just…”

“Just what?” someone blurted. “Doctor, please say it!”

Stone looked ready to cry.

Doctor Wang cleared his throat, gaze skittering away from Lin Qing Xuan’s murder-bright eyes. “It’s just… bruising in the lower abdomen. The qi and blood are a bit congested. You must rest for a few days. And remember—no… vigorous activity.”

Lin Qing Xuan went still.

He shut his eyes, drew a deep breath, and opened them again with killing intent he couldn’t quite cage.

He would have sworn this was impossible, yet it had happened. That woman had actually kicked him there.

Worse—he’d taken the hit in a dream, and his body had responded in waking life, rolling out of bed like some clumsy fool.

And the whole manor knew.

He, the dignified Buddhist Scion. The future State Preceptor.

Reduced to a joke because of “bad sleep manners.”

The gossip storm only swelled.

In the First Madam’s courtyard, maids cracked melon seeds and cackled. “I heard the eldest young master fell so hard he bruised his face! They even canceled his morning lessons!”

The three cousins from the Second Branch huddled together, whispering with bright eyes. “Could Eldest Cousin have gone astray from chanting too much? Why else would he sleepwalk and fall in the middle of the night?”

Second Uncle, the North-Guarding Grand General, slapped the table at breakfast and roared with laughter. “Ha! My nephew acts like a carved jade doll all day—so proper, so self-controlled? Bah! Turns out he can’t even sleep without rolling out of bed. I’m dying!”

Old Madam listened to the servants’ report with a hand pressed to her forehead, worry creasing deep lines. “This child… could he be possessed? We should go to the temple and ask for a safety talisman.”