Chapter 88
Chapter 88: Reverse Dream Entry
Inner room.
The Buddhist light around Lin Qing Xuan’s fingers drew in all at once, as if the air itself had snapped shut. His brows furrowed.
He felt Xiao Man’s presence sink, drop, vanish into deep stillness.
She had fallen asleep.
In the bamboo basket, heart demon Tuan Tuan sprawled like a melted shadow, tail-tip flicking lazily, golden eyes gleaming with malicious amusement.
“Tsk. That maid couldn’t hold out. She collapsed. Who can copy scripture until dawn? Only a stubborn fool like you would believe it.”
It bared its small sharp teeth, delighted to twist the knife. “That Devil qi is probably already inside her. Aren’t you going to hurry and look in her dream?”
“Or else…” Its voice dragged sweetly cruel. “Who knows which wild man she’ll be entwined with in there?”
“Wretched beast.”
Lin Qing Xuan’s gaze turned glacial. The air around him seemed to chill.
“If you hadn’t insisted on drinking the Devil qi from the princess’s manor, how would you have dragged her into this?”
Tuan Tuan gave a small, contemptuous laugh, curled into a ball, and pretended to sleep—though inside it was practically beating gongs and fireworks.
Lin Qing Xuan didn’t waste another word.
He sat in meditation, mind sinking into stillness, and sent his consciousness forward like an invisible wind—straight into the depths of Xiao Man’s dream.
He entered, and the world that unfolded before him was utterly unfamiliar—utterly unlike anything he had ever seen.
A dim room. Overhead, several long tubes glowed with cold white light.
Strange square tables and chairs stood in neat rows. On a wall hung a black box that flashed changing numbers.
And Xiao Man—no.
In this dream, she called herself Jiang Yi Yi.
She sat at a table, fingers flying across a glowing board, her focus so fierce it bordered on obsession.
She wore a fitted white top and a short skirt that hugged her hips. Her hair was tied high, and a thin wire hung from her ear. Under her breath she muttered like a spell.
“One more revision… the last one. This promotion report has to be perfect.”
Lin Qing Xuan stopped, stunned.
He stepped closer and called softly, “Xiao Man.”
Jiang Yi Yi snapped her head up. Her eyes were bloodshot, her expression sharp with impatience.
“Why are you still here? I told you—I’m not Xiao Man. I’m Jiang Yi Yi!”
She stabbed a finger at the small badge on her chest. “Read it. Jiang. Yi. Yi!”
Then she bent over her work again, tapping wildly, her voice fevered. “I finally came back. Tomorrow is the promotion meeting. The manager already promised it to me—personally. Do you know what I gave up for this?”
“All these years, I didn’t even dare date. I worked overtime until midnight, and I didn’t take a single day off. Not one. Just for tomorrow!”
Her mouth curved into a bright, unsteady smile, and in her eyes obsession glittered like broken glass.
This was the last night before she died from overwork.
It was also the deepest regret of her life.
The dream flickered—
And became a bright conference room.
Jiang Yi Yi stood before a projection screen, speaking with confident clarity.
“Based on this quarter’s comprehensive data analysis, I suggest we optimize the following processes…”
Applause broke out. At the head of the table, the manager nodded, satisfied.
“Well said. I announce that, effective immediately, Jiang Yi Yi is promoted to department supervisor.”
Jiang Yi Yi smiled like sunlight. Her eyes reddened anyway, as if her joy and exhaustion were tangled together too tightly to separate.
The dream snapped again—
A noisy bar. Lights spilled and swam across the room in shifting colors.
Jiang Yi Yi clinked glasses with friends, laughing too loudly, too freely. Around her clustered a few young men built like sculpted stone.
She’d had too much to drink, and boldness rose with the heat in her blood. She reached out and squeezed one male model’s bicep, grinning shamelessly.
“Wow. That feel? Not bad.”
Beside her, a friend whooped. “Yi Yi! Promotion and a raise—tonight we drink until we drop!”
Lin Qing Xuan’s jaw tightened.
He moved in and caught Jiang Yi Yi’s wrist, voice low with restrained anger. “Xiao Man.”
She shook him off, squinting up at him through drunken lashes, head tilted as if appraising a new toy.
“Oh? Where’d this handsome guy come from? Bars are doing ancient cosplay now? Sorry—I didn’t order your type…”
She laughed and waved him off, eyes sliding right past him to the muscle men.
“Muscle guys suit me better. You’re wrapped up too tight. Can’t even touch your abs. Boring.”
She hiccupped, her smile turning syrupy and bold.
“Sister paid for this.”
Something in Lin Qing Xuan went still.
Buddhist power surged outward, and the dream froze.
The bar’s music cut off mid-note. The lights stopped mid-flicker. Every person became a wax statue caught in the last instant of motion.
“Jiang Yi Yi,” Lin Qing Xuan said, his voice carrying the weight of command. “Look carefully. This is not your world.”
The drunken haze drained from her face.
Around them, the dream began to collapse—office, conference room, bar—all of it breaking apart like ash on a hard wind.
In the end there was only darkness, empty and vast.
Jiang Yi Yi looked down.
She had become Xiao Man again, dressed in rough cloth. Her palms held the thin calluses of years of labor.
“I…” Her voice trembled. “I’m back?”
Lin Qing Xuan stepped forward and held her shoulders, steadying her with his hands, his gaze burning.
“Your obsession from your past life—it’s time to let it go.”
Xiao Man—Jiang Yi Yi inside her—jerked her head up.
The confusion vanished, swallowed by sudden fury and bitter refusal.
“Let it go? Why should I!”
Her scream ripped through the dark.
“I don’t want to be Xiao Man! I don’t want to be a maid! Why does everyone else transmigrate into princesses and noble ladies, and I can only be a servant!”
Tears spilled hot and heavy down her face.
“And I was sold into your household for eight years! Eight years with no freedom!”
“Worst of all—when I was finally about to endure long enough to leave, you dragged me into that shared dream empathic resonance!”
Her voice rose higher, more frantic, until it broke.
“Don’t think I’m stupid! I know Old Madam’s schemes! She wants to keep me here to bear heirs for you, Lin Qing Xuan. What am I to her? A tool for having children?!”
She lunged forward and seized his arm, then bit down—hard, vicious, all the resentment of years poured into her teeth.
Lin Qing Xuan grunted, pain flashing through him. His muscles tightened instinctively, but he didn’t pull away.
He lowered his eyes to her trembling back and let the pain spread.
He understood.
This was the deepest knot in her heart. Let it bleed out, and maybe—just maybe—it would loosen.