In the dark, I jolted upright, gasping for air. Glancing at the girl still asleep beside me, I lowered my voice.

“What a strange dream.”

I sighed to myself. The alarm clock showed it was nearly time. I got up to make breakfast.

After a cold shower in the bathroom, I washed away the night sweat. As water streamed down, I pieced together the dream fragments.

Jiang Muqing must have left a deep impression lately.

Dreams about *her* never used to involve outsiders interfering—let alone twisting into nightmares.

About *her*—let me introduce Luo Xue. My childhood friend from elementary to middle school vacations.

We first met at my grandparents’ home in the countryside. My parents were always busy, and too young to care for myself, I lived with them in the town until junior high.

One day, a wealthy overseas Chinese family returned to town. They built a grand Western-style mansion on the outskirts—the very one from my dream.

Though ethnically Chinese, the husband had married a silver-haired foreigner. Their daughter inherited her father’s gentle features and her mother’s striking silver hair.

Blessed with both parents’ best traits, she was stunningly beautiful and clever. Only her frail health kept her from school and rarely seen outdoors.

Superstitious townsfolk whispered that silver-haired foreigners resembled the White Guard of Hell from myths—soul-snatchers. Her sickly appearance made them avoid the family, fearing bad luck.

We should’ve never crossed paths.

Yet fate brought us together.

That day, holding my shameful 29-point math test, Grandpa kicked me out. Drawn to the mansion, I stumbled upon her taking air at the gate.

What followed wasn’t Grandma dragging me home—it was me following the silver-haired girl into the mysterious white mansion.

Her parents welcomed me warmly.

That evening, I tasted grilled steak for the first time. We played until dusk, parting reluctantly. Her father walked me home through the dark streets.

Why did Jiang Muqing invade this precious memory?

After that, I visited daily after school.

Luo Xue knew everything—she solved all my elementary homework. My grades climbed steadily under her guidance.

Our grandparents bonded too. Her father admired Grandpa’s calligraphy and tea cakes; Grandpa collected their Western sculptures and clock ornaments. An unlikely friendship blossomed.

I adored her focused expression while explaining problems. She hung on every word of my tales about the outside world—even mud fights over marbles fascinated her.

We became inseparable study partners.

Back then, I truly loved her. I wished to stay by her side forever.

But reality rarely obeys wishes.

…

I warmed store-bought milk, sliced bread, fried eggs, and opened a jar of peanut butter. Sandwiching eggs between bread slices, I spread thick peanut butter on top. Finally, I poured the hot milk into a glass.

From the fridge, I took Mom’s pre-packed lunchbox, added an extra fried egg, and returned it.

“Jiang Muqing! Up already? A-class summer camp isn’t over yet.”

I called toward her room.

Though placement tests were done, our school kept original class schedules this vacation. Jiang’s camp lasted a week longer than ours. Mine ended last week; now I attended off-campus tutoring while she still had classes.

During camp, Jiang regained her spirit. She aced quizzes, ranking top as usual—rekindling teachers’ hopes.

They secretly gave her the backup final exam. Her score easily cleared A-class standards.

She’d likely join A-class. But with her added, the class would overflow. As the current lowest-ranked A-class student, I’d probably be moved to B-class.

Honestly, I preferred that. I feared struggling in A-class. B-class was my ideal fit.

At least my efforts hadn’t ruined her academics. She’d get the placement she deserved. That thought comforted me.

“Mmm…”

A sleepy murmur drifted from her room. She’d stayed up late—too exhausted for morning theatrics.

Thank goodness.

She shuffled to brush her teeth and change. I wolfed down my breakfast, grabbed my tutoring bag, and headed for the door. The bus stop was far.

Jiang chattered in her room. I yelled “Off to class!” and dashed toward the stairs.

First-day lateness wasn’t an option.

Just as I reached the door, a hand tugged my T-shirt hem.

“Fan… are you the type who runs off after spending the night with someone?”

Her voice turned icy behind me.

Heaven help me—Jiang’s trap snapped shut. That phrase carried dangerous double meaning.

“We did sleep together… but nothing happened, right?”

My blood ran cold.

I’d slept soundly—if something *had* occurred, I wouldn’t even know!

“Last night, Fan suddenly held me so tight. Like this.”

Ignoring my question, she wrapped her arms around me from behind.

“No one’s ever held me like that. You were the first.”

Her warm body pressed against my back.

Surprisingly well-developed? My nerves registered the soft pressure—hidden under her usual baggy uniform.

My back grew hypersensitive.

“So warm…”

Her tone held no warmth at all.

“What’s wrong?”

I tread carefully. Had I done something unforgivable in my sleep? I strained to recall any nighttime sensations.

No excitement. No memories. Nothing.

“I happily hugged you back,” she whispered, “waiting for your next move. I was so happy… thinking you’d finally made a move after I’d almost fallen asleep.”

Her pale, slender hands slid over my chest.

“And then?”

My voice trembled.

“And then…”

She paused, words stuck.

“What happened?”

I pressed.

“Then… Fan suddenly cried. Your tears fell on my face. It hurt.”

Her grip turned glacial.

“I cried?”

Impossible. I hadn’t cried in years.

…

“So tell me, Fan—who is Xiao Xue?”

Her arms locked around me like chains.