Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Xiao Man Dreams Again
These days, Xiao Man feared nightfall more than anything. If she wasn’t on night duty, the moment she returned to her small room alone, a senseless dread crept up her spine.
Still, fear couldn’t outlast sleep. Her eyelids sank, and she drifted under.
The sticky, clammy fog she expected never came.
She was simply standing beneath a towering tree.
It was enormous—so wide that even ten people linking arms might not be able to encircle the trunk. Above, the crown vanished into dense gray mist that blotted out the sky. No light filtered through. No clouds showed.
Today, the space under the tree was oddly quiet. Without those Joyful Buddhas lurking about, the tight wire of anxiety in Xiao Man’s chest finally loosened.
No one else was there.
She circled the trunk and, on the far side, found someone seated cross-legged in meditation.
Eldest Young Master.
He still wore spotless white monk’s robes. His eyes were closed, his face calm, as though the world around him didn’t exist.
“Eldest Young Master?”
Xiao Man called out, testing the emptiness. Only her echo answered.
No response.
Heart thudding, she inched closer and waved her hand in front of his face.
He didn’t move. Not even a flicker of lashes.
A reckless hope rose in her. She lifted one finger and lightly poked his cheek.
Warm. Smooth.
Annoyingly, unfairly handsome, too—made even more dangerous by that cold, abstinent Buddhist air. No wonder that shameless spirit creature had been desperate to drag him down from his pedestal.
When he still didn’t react, Xiao Man finally let herself breathe.
Fine, then. If he was truly unaware, she might as well take the chance to look around, to understand what this dream really was.
The instant she turned, a brutal force clamped onto her wrist.
She gasped. Her balance snapped. She was yanked backward and dropped hard into a scorching embrace.
Heat poured through her thin clothes. Sandalwood drowned her breath—thick, sweet, inescapable.
Lin Qing Xuan’s eyes flew open.
They were a fierce blood-red. There was no clarity left in them—only a wild, starved madness.
He crushed her against his chest.
Xiao Man’s mind went white.
He wrenched her around, forced her to face him—and then a vicious kiss slammed down.
It wasn’t a kiss.
There was no gentleness, no coaxing, no slow comfort.
It was a reckless taking.
He forced her mouth open, sweeping in like a conqueror.
Xiao Man shuddered and hammered at his solid chest, desperate to push him away. But her strength against his was nothing—an ant trying to shake a tree.
Useless.
Something in her snapped. She bit down hard.
Blood flooded her mouth, sharp and hot.
Lin Qing Xuan froze for a heartbeat.
Now.
Xiao Man tore free with everything she had, slapped him hard across the face, and shoved him backward. He hit the ground.
She scrambled up and ran.
It was too real—too real.
Why wasn’t she waking up?
Behind her, the dream split open with lightning and thunder. Gray currents surged across the world like hungry veins, as though sky and earth were about to be swallowed whole.
A familiar fog gathered at her side, condensing out of nothing.
“Such a perfect opportunity, and you pushed him away?”
Tuan Tuan’s voice was sharp with reproach, drenched in mocking sweetness.
Xiao Man stopped short, stunned.
“You were here the whole time?”
“I’m inside your body. We’re in empathic resonance, remember?”
The words sounded as if they were spoken directly into her skull, slick with smug satisfaction.
“He hasn’t passed his love trial—so why cling to Buddhism this hard? With the way he is now, Buddha won’t take him. And yet he’d rather die than give in. Ridiculous.”
“Buddha says greed, anger, and ignorance are the three poisons. The three poisons breed the five desires: wealth, lust, fame, food, and sleep.”
“Your young master was born into wealth and rank. He lacks neither money nor fame, and he certainly doesn’t lack food and fine clothes. Only this one barrier—love—he can’t pass it.”
Tuan Tuan’s voice turned soft, coaxing.
“Good Sister, I know you think this Buddhist Scion looks quite pleasing. Consider it helping me, helping him—and while you’re at it… fulfilling your own heart. Isn’t that nice?”
Xiao Man felt bile rise.
The shame and violation burned worse than being pinned in that searing embrace.
This spirit creature had no face at all—no decency, no human boundaries.
A wet sound tore out of her throat.
She spit a mouthful of metallic-sweet blood, splattering it across the plain monk’s robe like crimson blossoms on snow.
Lin Qing Xuan braced himself against his meditation cushion. The sandalwood prayer beads slipped from his fingers and scattered with a crisp clatter.
He licked his lips on instinct. A sharp sting shot through him.
A wound.
The dream came roaring back—teeth, struggle, heat—so clear it felt like it had happened one breath ago.
His brows knotted. He called out, voice carrying:
“Chen Shi.”
Chen Shi responded at once and hurried in. The moment he saw the blood at Lin Qing Xuan’s mouth and the injury on his lips, his face changed.
“Young Master—what happened?”
“The maid who delivered the sutras the day before yesterday,” Lin Qing Xuan said. “Who was she?”
Chen Shi scratched the back of his head, utterly lost.
“My lord, I truly don’t know. That day, a sister from Old Madam’s courtyard delivered the sutras. I wasn’t here.”
He added carefully, almost apologetic, “Every time you meditate, you forbid anyone from disturbing the courtyard. I’m always outside with Little Four and the others—chatting, playing cards.”
Lin Qing Xuan closed his eyes and waved a hand.
The thread snapped.
That morning, Xiao Man lay awake, tossing until her bones ached.
She couldn’t sit and wait for whatever came next.
At dawn, she faced the bronze mirror and patted her cheeks until she looked even paler. Only then did she go to Da Ya and Xiu He.
“Sister,” she said, coughing weakly twice, “I think I caught a chill in the night and came down with a cold. I’m afraid I’ll pass it on to the sisters.”
Xiu He pressed a hand to her forehead. The temperature was normal.
“Old Madam already said you should let the house physician take a look and rest a few days,” Xiu He replied. Then she nodded toward Dong Chun. “For now, Dong Chun will take your work.”
“Sister,” Xiao Man said quickly, voice softening, “I want to leave the residence and ask my aunt for a folk remedy. It’ll work faster.”
She clutched Xiu He’s sleeve, pleading without making a scene. “Could you help me ask the steward for an exit token? I’ll go early and be back this afternoon. I’ll bring you the sweet pickled garlic my aunt makes—you said you liked it last time.”
Xiu He was straightforward. “All right. Your aunt lives far out in the west of the city, so don’t rush. Just be back before the gates close.”
Dong Chun’s eyes lit up like lanterns. “Sister Xiao Man, bring me ginger candy, lard candy, and osmanthus candy from the west-side sweet shop!”
Xiu He shot her a look. “You’ll rot your teeth.”
“I’ll bring them,” Xiao Man promised with a strained smile. “Let all the sisters taste some.”
Xiu He’s expression softened, worry slipping through. “Your allowance was just docked. Do you have enough? You still need a doctor and medicine.”
“Thank you for caring, Sister,” Xiao Man said. “I still have money for sweets.”
Warmth flickered in her chest despite everything.
Token in hand and carriage arranged, Yao Xiao Man didn’t go to her aunt’s home right away.
She went first to Azure Cloud Temple.
The temple was quiet, its incense offerings thin and cold. She found the Abbess and spoke only of nightmares, hiding everything about Eldest Young Master, asking only for a way to end the torment.
The Abbess studied her from head to toe.
“Benefactor has no demon aura clinging around you.”
Seeing Xiao Man’s panic, the Abbess sighed, took up a brush, and drew a protective talisman. She pressed it into Xiao Man’s hands.
“Some karma cannot be escaped,” the Abbess said softly. “Why struggle so hard to avoid it?”
Xiao Man couldn’t grasp the deeper meaning. She took it as comfort, thanked the Abbess, donated incense money, and left with the talisman clenched tight—her heart still heavy as stone.
The carriage rattled on until it finally reached the west-city home of the original body’s aunt.
Her aunt treated her the same as always—whether she was the girl who had grown up here or the soul that had fallen into her skin. Like a true daughter.
The moment her aunt saw her, joy poured out of her like a flood.
Xiao Man pulled a silver hairpin from her sleeve—the one she’d bought with the allowance she’d saved—and personally pinned it into her aunt’s hair.
“So pretty,” Xiao Man said.
Her aunt’s eyes reddened. She turned at once toward the back yard, ready to slaughter the big hen that was currently laying eggs.
Xiao Man hurried to stop her. “Aunt, keep it. Let it keep laying. The cousins are still growing.”
A memory flashed—being dragged away from this warmth by a gambling father, sold into the Heir Apparent’s Residence like a bundle of goods.
Her aunt’s family was the only warmth she had left in this world.
She steadied herself, then asked, “Aunt… do you know anyone nearby who can act as a spirit medium?”
Her aunt froze, then pointed off in one direction. “Near your uncle’s school, I think there’s a household that does that.”
“I have a carriage,” Xiao Man said quickly. “Aunt, take me.”
Granny Wang’s home had an altar set with three deity statues. Incense smoke curled thickly, making the room feel strangely charged.
Xiao Man shoved a heavy red envelope into Granny Wang’s hand.
Granny Wang weighed it, satisfaction blooming across her face, and began at once.
She chanted under her breath. Her body suddenly convulsed. When she spoke again, the voice that came out was sharp—and chillingly familiar.
“Little miss went to buy candy and didn’t bring me any?”
Xiao Man’s blood turned to ice.
Tuan Tuan.
The voice laughed, full of teasing malice. “Just take the great fortune. The one behind you isn’t someone we can afford to offend. Next time you come, remember to bring me lard candy.”
Then Granny Wang’s body went slack. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, staring around as if she had no idea where she was.
Another dead end.
Xiao Man felt hollowed out, too weak to stand straight.
On the ride back, her aunt looked worried—wanting to ask, not knowing how.
Xiao Man collected sweet pickled garlic, then sent a cousin to buy assorted candies. Only then did she return to the residence.
Back in the courtyard, she handed the garlic to Xiu He and passed out the candy packets to the sisters.
Dong Chun tore into a bag of lard candy, shoved one into her mouth, and squinted with bliss.
“Lard candy from the west-side sweet shop really is the best!”
Everyone laughed and teased, bright and noisy.
Xiao Man stood to the side, smiling—yet her eyes stayed dark.