On the way to the cafeteria, Ming Yi could no longer suppress his curiosity. He quietly sidled up to Xiao Chengcheng.
“Lao Xiao, seriously—how do you make every single word sound so comforting?”
“What, wanna learn?” Xiao Chengcheng suddenly struck a haughty pose, practically radiating *“Beg me if you want the secret.”*
Though inwardly stung, Ming Yi gave a reluctant nod.
“Hehe, the secret’s dead simple,” Xiao Chengcheng chuckled. “Half comes from my decent upbringing—etiquette training taught me to read people. As for the other half…”
He leaned in mysteriously close to Ming Yi’s ear and whispered:
“…It depends on the face.”
Damn. This time, Ming Yi really couldn’t hold back—a curse slipped right out.
——
——
Dinner passed utterly ordinary, no drama, no twists. The three simply chatted while eating.
Afterward, as usual, Ming Yi brought a takeaway portion to Dandan’s place.
“Hm?” The door was unlocked.
Inside, he found Dandan curled on the sofa, utterly absorbed in a book.
“What’re you reading?”
“Meow!” She jolted up like a startled cat. Recognizing him, she patted her chest with relief. “Oh—it’s just Brother Yi… You scared me half to death…”
*Meow? Since when does she meow?*
“Leaving the door open? Aren’t you worried about strangers?” Ming Yi teased.
Dandan looped her arm through his, voice sweet: “Brother Yi’s no stranger. I left it open so I wouldn’t miss your knock while reading.”
“What’s got you so hooked?” Ming Yi sat beside her, eyes landing on the cover. “*The Complete Story of the Eastern Expedition*? Pretty old-school.”
“Have you read it, Brother Yi?”
“Nah, but I’ve heard of it. Isn’t this about Xue Rengui?” A staple of traditional opera—practically household name material.
“Yeah…” Dandan’s smile faded. “I always thought Xue Rengui and Xue Pinggui were the same person. I believed this book told their tear-jerking love story with Wang Baochuan… but…”
Ming Yi instantly got it. Many mixed them up: later artistic splits of one historical figure. Xue Pinggui’s tale ended happily—he reunited with Wang Baochuan and became emperor. Xue Rengui? In *The Fen River Bay*, he accidentally killed his son and drowned himself with his wife, Lady Liu.
“Truth is harsh. The Xue Pinggui–Wang Baochuan story was rewritten later because people found Xue Rengui’s ending too tragic. It’s fiction.”
“Brother Yi… does a love story like theirs even exist?” Dandan’s voice dropped, eyes downcast. Ming Yi’s chest tightened.
“Sometimes I imagine I’m Wang Baochuan, waiting alone in that cold cave,” she murmured, tilting her head dreamily. “If I endure the loneliness… someday my Xue Pinggui will come.”
“He’ll be handsome, noble—abandon Xiliang’s luxuries for me, ride a white horse, and carry me away.”
“But… it’s just fantasy. Maybe the real Xue Pinggui died on campaign… or chose Xiliang over his Wang Baochuan.”
Ming Yi’s heart stirred slightly. Almost without thinking, he asked: “Are you scared Xiao Chengcheng found his Princess Daizhan? That he’s lost in Xiliang’s comforts and forgot you? Why else hasn’t he come?”
“Yes! Exactly—I mean, NO!” Dandan’s face flushed crimson, flustered. “Brother Yi… you’re bullying me!”
*Cough cough.* Heaven sees all. I did nothing.
Seeing tears welling, Ming Yi softened his tone: “Hey, Xiao Chengcheng cares deeply—he’s just stubborn. *He* suggested I bring you food last time.”
“Really? But he only argues with me… he must hate me…”
“He’s just stubborn!” Ming Yi grinned. “All talk, no action. Bet he’s hiding outside *right now*, eavesdropping!”
“Liar! He’d never!” Dandan giggled through tears.
Relief washed over Ming Yi.
No rushing Dandan and Xiao Chengcheng. Both held back, each feeling unworthy. Dandan feared her clinginess would burden him; Xiao Chengcheng doubted his ability to protect her.
New to this world—they all needed time. A young love story doesn’t need its first page flipped yet.
“Oh! There’s a song about this story. Want to hear it?”
“Yes, yes!” Dandan’s eyes lit up.
Ming Yi cleared his throat softly:
“I ride a white horse through three passes~"
——
——
Outside the door.
Xiao Chengcheng leaned against the wall, gazing at the star-dusted sky.
A faint hum drifted from his lips:
*I ride a white horse through three passes.*
*I change to plain robes, return to the Central Plains.*
*I leave Xiliang behind, unclaimed.*
*My heart holds only Wang Baochuan.*
——
——
Next afternoon, Ming Yi returned to the lawn behind the corridor. Thousand was already waiting.
He spread a picnic blanket, piled on pastries and sweets. Thousand sat quietly beside him, taking tiny, careful bites.
Ming Yi lay back, hands behind his head, breeze brushing his face.
“Hey, Thousand—what do you usually do here?”
“Just sit.” She set down her cake, tilting her head.
“Just… sit? Doesn’t it get lonely?”
She shook her head. “Never felt that way. Always been like this.”
*Always sitting here alone.* A faint pang of compassion stirred in Ming Yi’s heart. In silent solitude, she’d learned to vanish into quiet corners.
“Let me tell you a story,” he said gently. “My old world had so many wonderful tales.”
“Mm. I want to listen.” Thousand blinked up at him—his pulse skipped.
“What to tell…” He recalled last night’s book, snapped his fingers.
“How about a great general named Xue Ren—” He caught himself. “No. Let’s tell Xue Pinggui’s story.”
*Xue Pinggui is the beautiful dream. Xue Rengui is the cruel truth.*
But if he could, Ming Yi would keep Thousand forever in the dream—never waking.
