Chapter One

Chapter One

In late spring, the wind in the Imperial City still carried a chill of early spring.

The atmosphere within the Marquis Huai'an's residence had been particularly oppressive lately. The study in the rear hall was eerily quiet, and the servants sweeping the courtyard held their breath, staying far away, afraid to make even the slightest sound that might disturb the two nobles conversing inside.

The two men were seated by the window, playing chess, but neither seemed focused on the game, hesitating to make their moves.

"During today’s morning court, His Majesty was absent again, for an entire month now."

After a long silence, Marquis Huai'an spoke slowly, "I heard that the one from the Northern Desert has returned to the capital, now claiming illness and residing in a secluded manor outside the city."

His voice grew especially soft when he mentioned the latter part, showing a deep sense of caution.

At the mention of "that person," the face of Zhou Shilang, the Minister of Rites sitting opposite him, changed slightly.

Marquis Huai'an, feeling increasingly agitated by the game, clenched his chess piece tighter, growing more restless: "The current political situation is unclear, and several princes have not left the capital..."

Zhou Shilang promptly made a gesture to hush, looking around, and whispered, "My Lord, be cautious with your words."

As they were speaking in low tones, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly approached, breaking the silence of the courtyard, rushing toward the study.

Who would dare to barge into the study without permission at such a time?

Marquis Huai'an frowned, about to reprimand, when the intruder fell to his knees, panting and exclaiming with joy, "My Lord, Lady has sent me to invite you to Chunwu Garden, saying that, saying that Young Master has woken up!"

The anger in Marquis Huai'an's eyes vanished instantly, and he stood up abruptly, ending their conversation.

Zhou Shilang, after a moment of surprise, relaxed his tense shoulders and patted his robe as he stood up, "Since Young Master is well, I shall not disturb further. Congratulations, My Lord, go see him quickly, no need to see me off..."

Before he could finish, his old friend had already rushed out, heading to Chunwu Garden faster than the servant who brought the news.

The atmosphere in Chunwu Garden was unusually lively.

Zhong Yansheng had just awakened from a chaotic and fragmented dream, blinking groggily as a murmur of voices reached his ears, many people speaking.

His consciousness was still hazy, and the voices seemed muffled, indistinct.

He lifted his heavy eyelids, seeing several familiar faces, all wearing expressions of joy, their lips moving but the words unclear.

Seeing those faces, Zhong Yansheng felt a sudden chill run through his veins, while his eyes burned hot, his pale lips moved, and a hoarse, broken voice emerged, "Father... Mother?"

Why were they here?

He had clearly seen them beheaded.

Was he dead too, or why else would he see them?

As these confused thoughts swirled in his mind, Zhong Yansheng felt himself being embraced tightly.

A familiar scent filled his nostrils, and a voice tinged with sobs came from above, "My dear child, you really scared your mother this time... Don't cry, don’t cry, Mother is here."

The warmth of his mother enveloped him, and Zhong Yansheng blinked dully.

It was the warmth of life.

Zhong Yansheng blinked hard, the mist in his eyes turning to tears, cold and wet, rolling down his cheeks, blurring his vision until it cleared. He leaned against his mother, looking past her shoulder to see Marquis Huai'an standing by the bed, his expression stern.

Weak from his illness, his soft hair was still disheveled, his handsome features pale like paper, his lips colorless, looking like a wilting flower on a branch, his appearance strikingly fragile against the backdrop of his messy black hair.

Looking at him with tear-filled eyes, he appeared pitifully obedient, and even Marquis Huai'an's stern expression softened, unable to maintain his strict fatherly demeanor, coughing lightly, "How old are you, crying over a mere illness... It’s good you’re awake, it’s good you’re awake."

As he spoke, a nearly imperceptible, relieved smile appeared on his face.

Outside in the courtyard, the maids and servants peered in, their faces familiar and vibrant, whispering excitedly, their eyes fixed on him.

Everyone was alive.

Only then did Zhong Yansheng fully regain his senses, recalling what had happened before he fell unconscious.

Earlier this year, Marquis Huai'an received orders to return to the capital. He returned to the Imperial City, which he had been away from for many years, and his childhood friend, King Jing, upon hearing of his return, came to seek him out for a garden outing.

But he accidentally fell into the water.

The Imperial City in March was still very cold, and the pond water was bone-chilling. As soon as he hit the water, his calves cramped, and he choked on the water. His clothes were thicker than others, and despite the shallow pond, he couldn’t struggle free.

In the end, it was King Jing who, disregarding his own safety, jumped into the pond and pulled him out.

That night, he fell into a feverish delirium.

And then he had a nightmare.

"Did Tiaotiao have a nightmare?" Seeing Zhong Yansheng staring blankly at them, a tear still clinging to his lashes, Lady Huai'an hurriedly took out a handkerchief, gently wiping his face and comforting him, "Nightmares are just illusions, there’s nothing to fear."

Mentioning the nightmare, Zhong Yansheng shivered.

During his days of unconsciousness, he had been having a strange dream.

In the dream, Zhong Yansheng found himself living in a storybook.

In the storybook, he was the “false young master” adopted by the Marquis Huai'an’s household, while the true young master of the Marquis Huai'an’s household, after being switched at birth, was abandoned and picked up by a farmer, enduring hardships for over a decade. Eventually, he returned to his family with proof of his identity but was not taken seriously by the household, even being looked down upon by the servants.

Moreover, in the storybook, Marquis Huai'an and Lady Huai'an disliked his temperament, fearing it would affect Zhong Yansheng’s mood, and banished him to a manor in the capital outskirts, preventing him from easily entering the city.

Everything in the dream was bizarre and surreal, but Zhong Yansheng remembered the general plot.

Later, the real young master harbored resentment towards the entire Marquis Huai'an’s household, causing chaos and turmoil, leading to the downfall and destruction of the household.

Although Zhong Yansheng felt that, according to the logic and narrative of the storybook, he and his family seemed more like the so-called villains, the storybook referred to the other as the “villainous true young master.”

Zhong Yansheng grew increasingly anxious, feeling as if he were sitting on pins and needles.

Noticing Zhong Yansheng's uneasy expression, the Marquise of Huai'an coaxed him with utmost patience, "What terrible dream did you have, Tiaotiao? Would you like to tell us? Your father and I are here; once you speak it out, there’s nothing to fear."

Everything in the dream felt so real, but the storybook, the nightmare, the fake and true young masters, the family's ruin...

Zhong Yansheng hesitated, feeling that if he spoke up, the Marquis of Huai'an would likely invite Taoist priests to exorcise evil spirits.

...Perhaps he should test the waters first, after all, everything in the dream was too far-fetched.

Zhong Yansheng clung to the Marquise's arm and whispered, "Mother, I dreamed that I wasn't your child, and you all didn’t want me anymore."

Though his tone was playful, Zhong Yansheng clearly sensed the Marquise's body stiffen for a moment.

Even the Marquis of Huai'an, who was sitting by the bed, showed a subtle change in his expression.

Zhong Yansheng: "..."

No need to test further.

As expected, just like in the storybook, he was the false young master adopted by the Marquis of Huai'an.

The true young master had probably returned, but was being kept outside the capital, not allowed to enter.

He remembered the storybook also mentioned that while the whole family was fussing over his illness, the true young master was suffering from water and soil incompatibility, alone and ill in another courtyard.

So, according to the dream, what would happen next is...

Zhong Yansheng shivered involuntarily.

The Marquise quickly regained her composure, stroking Zhong Yansheng's head and speaking in an unusually gentle voice, "How could that be? Tiaotiao will always be Mother’s most beloved child. I’ll stay by your side, no matter where we go, don’t be afraid."

She then elbowed the Marquis sharply.

The Marquis, who was awkwardly stroking his beard, straightened up and responded seriously, "That’s right! Nonsense! Father will stay by your side, no matter where we go."

The warm words of his parents made Zhong Yansheng feel a chill in his heart. He clutched the Marquise's hand in fear, almost blurting out everything, wanting to tell them not to treat the other one that way, as it would lead to a terrible outcome.

But the words died in his throat.

It was too unbelievable; his parents wouldn’t believe him. Moreover, based on his understanding, insisting on saying this would likely backfire, making his father and mother even more disdainful of the true young master, with unimaginable consequences.

Zhong Yansheng ultimately couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

His expression was clear, but the Marquis and Marquise, feeling guilty, failed to notice. They made Zhong Yansheng swallow half a bowl of porridge and watched him take his medicine.

The doctor had added calming herbs to the medicine. Exhausted from his recent awakening, Zhong Yansheng couldn’t resist the drowsiness and soon fell back asleep, sinking into deep slumber without time to think further.

The room grew quiet, and the Marquise exchanged a glance with her husband before they quietly left.

Zhong Yansheng had been frail since childhood, plagued by nightmares and a major illness every year that lasted for half a year. The Marquise treated him like a precious gem, carefully nurturing him until he reached his teens, when he finally became somewhat stronger, and his illnesses became less frequent.

In the afternoon, after taking his medicine, Zhong Yansheng’s fever subsided, and he felt much better. However, he woke up again in the evening, startled from a nightmare with an indistinct face, sitting up in a panic and wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

Recently, due to Zhong Yansheng’s unconscious state, the Marquisate of Huai'an had been shrouded in gloom, as if everyone had a dark cloud hanging over their heads. Today, the place was lively because of his recovery. Most of the servants in Chunwu Garden were young maids and boys. Concerned about disturbing Zhong Yansheng’s rest, the Marquise dismissed many of them, leaving only Yuncheng, who had grown up with Zhong Yansheng, to watch over him.

Yuncheng was dozing off by the bed when he suddenly saw Zhong Yansheng sit up abruptly, instantly dispelling his drowsiness. He scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes, "Young Master, are you awake? Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Should I call the doctor? Or are you hungry? The kitchen has food ready!"

A barrage of questions went unanswered. After a moment, he saw his young master turn his head. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a pale glow on the delicate face, the dark, beautiful eyes staring straight at him, calling out softly, "Yuncheng."

In the middle of the night, it sounded like a ghostly summons.

Yuncheng shrank back, weakly replying, "What?"

Zhong Yansheng weakly crawled forward a couple of steps, "Find me a book on dream interpretation."

"…Ah?"

Yuncheng was thoroughly confused but obediently got up to fetch the book for Zhong Yansheng.

Zhong Yansheng’s study was nearby. With a lit candle, Yuncheng found the book and delivered it to Zhong Yansheng within a short time.

The warm yellow light illuminated the area around the bed, giving Zhong Yansheng’s face some color. Wrapped in a thick, soft blanket, he sat cross-legged on the bed, holding the dream interpretation book and studying it intently for a long time before putting it down, "Yuncheng."

"Yes?"

Zhong Yansheng lifted his face expressionlessly and handed the book over, "Burn this nonsense."

Yuncheng: "..."

Whatever the little master says, Yuncheng fetched a copper basin and prepared to burn the book.

Zhong Yansheng remained seated cross-legged on the bed, wrapped in a small bundle of blankets, watching Yuncheng’s back.

In that nightmare, Yuncheng had died before his eyes.

Yuncheng, who had always obeyed him, refused to flee with valuables, and was stabbed through the abdomen, spilling warm blood all over his face.

The sticky, terrifying sensation extended from the dream into reality, making his fingertips tremble at the sight of Yuncheng.

The dream could not be interpreted by a book.

Only he could interpret it.

Watching Yuncheng’s puzzled and busy figure, Zhong Yansheng pressed his lips tightly together.

He didn’t want anyone in the Marquisate of Huai'an to get hurt.

It shouldn’t happen... The true young master and the Marquisate of Huai'an were truly a family, bound by blood.

Because of his hatred for the Marquis's mansion, he caused its downfall, but as long as he doesn't hate the mansion, nothing should go wrong, right?

But how should he proceed?

Judging from his parents' attitude this afternoon, they seem to be concerned about his illness and don't want to tell him about the real young master just yet.

Moreover, if it were to come out that the young master the Marquis Huai'an's mansion had raised for eighteen years was an imposter... it would certainly cause quite a stir, and the nobles in the Imperial City would surely revel in the drama.

Given his position, the more he speaks to his parents, the less appropriate it becomes; they would likely think he feels wronged no matter what he says.

Zhong Yansheng pondered for a while, a sudden idea striking him.

"Yuncheng!"

Yuncheng, busy burning books, quickly responded, "Young Master, what is it?"

"I need you to do one more thing for me."

Seeing Zhong Yansheng looking a bit more spirited, Yuncheng rolled up his sleeves with enthusiasm, without a second thought: "Whatever you say, Young Master!"

"You mustn't breathe a word of this to anyone," Zhong Yansheng said in a low voice. "I need you to find someone for me."