Xu Feng found himself in a dream, but it was unlike any other he had experienced before. Everything around him was soft, blurry, and distant. The colors bled into one another—blues, grays, and muted whites forming an almost ethereal, otherworldly picture.
In the midst of the haze, a figure began to take form—a man with strong yet delicate features. Features that seed too perfect, too carefully crafted, as though each line and angle had been lovingly carved by a gentle hand.
Xu Feng knew that face. It wasn’t a stranger standing before him; it was Xuan Yang, his scholar, and his snake. The "pampered" young master of the Xuan family.
The realization made Xu Feng’s heart swell with an emotion so deep and powerful that he nearly gasped. It was Xuan Yang, the person he had shared more than one life and tiline with, the one whose wicked smile always seed to soothe his worst fears.
But the setting—where were they?
Xu Feng looked around, trying to make sense of the space. The room wasn’t anywhere in their Nanshan Estate. There was nowhere like this in his ho; he had renovated it himself, after all.
Even if Xuan Jian and Xuan Yang had renovated the place while he was gone, this room felt far too foreign.
It was tastefully decorated but lacked the warmth and lived-in quality that Nanshan Estate had—even its rooms arranged specifically for guests.
The room was cold, almost sterile. It made Xu Feng uneasy. There was no life here, no comfort. It was elegant, with its delicate furniture and neatly arranged décor, but it was hollow.
Was this really Xuan Yang’s room? Where was he? Why was he here, alone? Not alone.
Xu Feng’s gaze turned back to Xuan Yang, his scholar standing there in the middle of the room. His eyes were fixed on sothing, far away, lost in thought. Whether it was a random dream or a real connection to Xuan Yang, Xu Feng couldn’t help the surge of excitent that coursed through him.
It felt like many moons had passed since he had last seen his favorite snake. Being trapped in Dongn felt like ti was moving infinitely slowly—an eternity without the ones he loved, encased in decaying flesh slls.
Xu Feng didn’t care if he was delusional. He was ready to rush up to Xuan Yang and take his chances—whether this was a dream or so special connection across the void between them. He moved forward, his hands reaching out, his heart aching to feel the cool skin of his snake.
And then—he passed through him.
Xu Feng stumbled, his arms extending out into nothingness. A wave of annoyance swept over him, but he refused to believe it.
He tried again, stepping forward with more force, reaching out once more, as if sheer willpower would make this dream solidify. His hand moved through Xuan Yang’s arm as if he were nothing but a mirage.
Xu Feng paused, his heart sinking as the reality of the situation set in. He couldn’t touch him. He wasn’t truly there. He was nothing more than a spectator, a ghost in a mory that didn’t belong to him.
Was this a good thing or a bad thing? He didn’t know.
He took a step back, watching as Xuan Yang moved across the room, his scholar’s face still calm, still composed, but the emptiness of the room seed even more pronounced now that Xu Feng couldn’t reach him.
The ache in Xu Feng’s chest deepened, a longing so profound that it left him breathless.
He took another look around, his gaze shifting to the windows. That was when he noticed it—there were people outside, walking by the room, their silhouettes passing by the windows, their shadows falling across the floor. Xu Feng’s eyes narrowed as he began to piece together the scene.
Xuan Yang and his companion weren’t alone. There were people constantly walking by, observing, their presence lingering just outside the room.
Even farther out, in the courtyard beyond the window, Xu Feng could see the vague shapes of others milling about. They weren’t obvious, but he could feel them. Even in this dream—or whatever it was—Xu Feng could feel their presence.
’He’s being watched.’
Xu Feng’s fists clenched at his sides. He might be a dragon, but Xuan Yang was also talented, in both this life and their past one. There was no way the snake was unaware of the eyes on him.
Xu Feng knew his scholar could sense it too, that he was being treated like an animal in a zoo. And that broke Xu Feng’s heart.
He hated seeing his proud, brilliant scholar treated this way, caged, and watched like he was so sort of curiosity. But at least—at least he wasn’t alone.
There was soone else there, standing at the edge of the room—a familiar figure. One of Xuan Jian’s n. Xu Feng felt a flicker of relief. It made things better, knowing that Xuan Yang wasn’t entirely alone.
The backup was there, and Xu Feng could feel a sense of reassurance in that. His scholar was smart and capable of handling himself, and with the additional support, he had an extra layer of safety.
But safety from what or who?
"Master Jian sent another ssage," the man said, his voice low. Xu Feng’s attention sharpened imdiately. "We’re set to return to Nanshan Estate in three nights. No longer."
Xu Feng felt his heart leap, hope blossoming inside him like a sudden burst of spring. ’They’ll go back ho?’ He could almost see it—Xuan Jian, Xuan Yang, and the children, all safe in Nanshan Estate. A smile spread across his face.
But then—his brows furrowed, the feeling of joy fading just as quickly as it had co. The two n in the room continued to whisper, their voices lowered, their eyes glancing toward the windows as if wary of being overheard.
Xu Feng tried to catch the rest of their conversation, leaning in closer, even though he knew they couldn’t see him. He was privy to their words—whether this was a real connection or just a fignt of his imagination.
If Xuan Jian was nearby and Xuan Yang was in this strange, unknown place—where were his babies? Were they safe with Xu Zeng? Had they left Xu Zeng alone in Nanshan Estate?
Xu Feng’s mind raced, a dozen different thoughts flooding in at once. There was also Xu Hu Zhe, Xu Si, and Xu San. Even if Xu Zeng was left behind, there were still people to watch over the children and his brother, to keep them safe. Everything was good, wasn’t it? There was no house on fire here.
Yes, it was good that they were all going back ho. A full house was better—more protection, more love. But Xu Feng also wanted to be there. He wanted to go ho, to Nanshan Estate, to be with his family.
Doubt began to creep in, slowly, like a shadow stretching across his thoughts. Was this real? Was he hoping for so fantastical hocoming because he was desperate to go ho? Was he manufacturing this reunion—only without himself included?
Everything felt so impossible recently.
Awakening his bloodline, and the scattered mories he now had—everything felt unreal, like a fever dream. A dragon, reborn, with children he birthed himself and lovers across different worlds.
It was like a tidal wave, and Xu Feng felt like he was drowning, the water closing in, no room to breathe, only gasping for air as he tried to stay afloat.
The dramatic music should have been playing, but Xu Feng was too sad to even imagine it. All this doubt—yet a man having children seed perfectly acceptable in his mind.
He couldn’t tell where the line between reality and fiction lay anymore. He almost wanted to bla it on childbirth hormones—a thought so ridiculous that it made him smirk, a small laugh escaping him.
And suddenly, it was as though he’d been pulled out of the deep, dark water.
He was no longer in Wonderland—not with Xuan Yang anymore. He was still in this new dark place, but now there was also light, a small glimr that pushed away the feeling of doom and gloom. All was well with the world, even if only for a mont or two.
But just like that—like a tidal wave, he was going under again. The darkness ca back, rushing in, pulling him down, the weight of it suffocating. There was no air, no escape.
There was only Xu Feng, and the crushing despair of not knowing what was real and what was not. He had lost his place in the room beside Xuan Yang, lost his place with his family.
"Just go ho."
The words ca from sowhere, echoing in his mind, cutting through the darkness like a sharp, annoying blade.
’If I could, I would.’ Who the hell was giving him such dumb advice? Xu Feng’s thoughts weren’t quite as dark anymore, but he was irritated now.
What kind of stupid inner voice was this? Instead of making him feel better or worse, it was just annoying him. Were even his inner demons wired wrong?
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