Chapter 85 Just Pretend He’s Dead

Chapter 85: Just Pretend He’s Dead

When Zhu Shinian woke up in the middle of the night, he found himself lying in Jiang Huaiyan’s bed.

Jiang Huaiyan was still asleep on the floor where he had originally laid out his futon, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he hadn’t slept well.

Zhu Shinian was not a heavy sleeper; he wondered how Jiang Huaiyan had managed to move him onto the bed without him waking up, since even a small noise should have roused him.

The curtains in Jiang Huaiyan’s room were not dark, and they were light and thin, so the room wasn’t pitch black. Moonlight filtered through the curtains like gossamer.

Jiang Huaiyan’s sleeping posture was quite poor; the blanket had partly fallen to the floor. He was lying on his side, and seemed to be having a bad dream, his frown deepening.

Zhu Shinian got out of bed and tucked the blanket back in for him.

Through the blanket, Zhu Shinian gently patted Jiang Huaiyan’s back, trying to remind him it was just a dream.

But Jiang Huaiyan’s face turned pale, his breathing quickened, and more and more sweat beaded on his forehead, as if the dream was growing more terrifying.

“Brother,” Zhu Shinian called softly.

Jiang Huaiyan did not respond.

Zhu Shinian called his name again, then hesitantly reached out and touched Jiang Huaiyan’s shoulder.

Jiang Huaiyan’s eyes snapped open.

His eyes were dark, deep, like a bottomless pool.

It was late at night; if it had been anyone else there, this scene would have been quite frightening.

“Brother, sleep on the bed.” Zhu Shinian said softly.

Once he saw it was Zhu Shinian, Jiang Huaiyan’s gaze froze for a moment, then, like ice thawing in spring, the cold, gloomy aura lifted.

“We used to sleep together when we were kids. Just one night, we’ll make do.”

“Your sleeping posture is pretty bad,” Zhu Shinian added after a moment’s thought. “Your blanket fell off the bed just now.”

“...Maybe it’s because I’m not used to the bed,” Jiang Huaiyan’s breathing had not yet fully calmed down. Having Zhu Shinian witness his embarrassment made him look away awkwardly. “I must look like a fool.”

“Sleep on the bed.” Zhu Shinian stubbornly repeated. “You had a nightmare. If someone is by your side, you won’t have nightmares anymore.”

“The bed isn’t narrow; two people can fit without feeling cramped.”

Jiang Huaiyan did not answer immediately. He sat motionless, his gaze fixed on Zhu Shinian’s face, as if in a daze.

After a while, as if snapping out of a daze, he stood up, did as Zhu Shinian said, climbed into bed, and lay down beside him.

The bed was indeed not narrow; even sharing one blanket, there was still a considerable distance between them.

“Sleep now, goodnight.” Zhu Shinian murmured.

His words seemed to have a spell-like power. Gradually, the breathing of the man beside him calmed.

After a moment, it became the steady, slow breathing of someone fast asleep.

Jiang Huaiyan must have fallen asleep.

Drowsiness swept over Zhu Shinian again, and he closed his eyes.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Jiang Huaiyan’s body suddenly trembled slightly.

Zhu Shinian opened his eyes and saw Jiang Huaiyan’s brows furrow again, a low, stifled sound came from his throat.

“Give it back... to me.”

“It’s a dream.” Without a moment to think about what Jiang Huaiyan was dreaming of, Zhu Shinian did the same thing, gently patting his back. “It’s not real, brother. Wake up.”

Ever since he had known Jiang Huaiyan, he had rarely shown any overt emotions in front of Zhu Shinian.

Anger, joy, sadness—none of them seemed to exist, let alone fear, which seemed utterly unlike Jiang Huaiyan.

But now Jiang Huaiyan’s face was pale, covered in fine beads of sweat, his entire face etched with fear and pain.

“Young, young master... please...”

“Brother, those things aren’t real. They’re not true.”

No one responded to Zhu Shinian’s words. Jiang Huaiyan seemed unable to wake up, his frown deepening.

From those fragmented words, Zhu Shinian guessed what he had dreamed about. His heart felt as if it had been split open by an axe, a deep, dull ache spreading through him belatedly.

“Those things aren’t real. I’m here. It’s all in the past. I’m here...”

He reached out, wrapped his arms around Jiang Huaiyan’s shoulders, and pulled him into his embrace, like a mother bird sheltering her chick with her wings.

Zhu Shinian gently patted Jiang Huaiyan’s back with one hand, and placed the other over the back of his head, his fingers lightly threading through his hair.

“They’re all false. It’s just a nightmare. It’s all over.” Zhu Shinian murmured.

It was indeed a nightmare, but it didn’t feel fake. It was probably a nightmare that had actually happened to him.

Zhu Shinian tried to comfort Jiang Huaiyan like this, but he himself wanted to cry.

.......

The darkness was boundless.

“Eleven, today we have a blood draw. Try not to throw up the nutritional meal anymore.”

“I know,” he replied listlessly.

“Eleven, try your best not to faint in front of the madam. You know, the madam is religious; it’ll make her feel guilty.”

He could just about keep from vomiting the nutritional meal, but how could he manage not to faint?

“I know,” Eleven still answered.

“Your pheromone level is so average, and you’re not smart enough to know how to please the young master and madam. You need to understand why the young master and madam keep you around and look after you. It’s because you’re obedient and don’t try to run away. You’re always stirring up trouble for the young master and madam. Do you know how the ten people before you died?”

“I know,” he replied again, still listlessly.

Jiang Huaiyan was fully aware that he was dreaming again.

They were utterly pointless things; when he was awake, he wouldn’t give them a second thought.

It was all in the past. He didn’t care about any of it.

In the fire at the villa, he had won. The one who died was the real, precious young master of the Jiang family.

And he had only lost his identity as a blood slave and a face disfigured by the burns.

The identity of a blood slave is worthless, and as for that face, though it hurt terribly to have it disfigured by a torch, thinking of someone being burned alive made the pain seem like nothing.

He didn’t care about any of it.

Perhaps as punishment for his disdain toward nightmares, the next scene revealed Zhu Shinian lying in a pool of blood, his pale, beautiful face splattered with blood.

And then someone reached him before anyone else, lifting that beautiful corpse from the ground.

That person reverentially kissed the dead man's lips.

Then, like a true love’s kiss from a fairy tale, the sleeping beauty opened his eyes again.

Zhu Shinian’s eyes were beautiful, calm, and pure, yet they looked at the person closest to him with foolish, obsessive devotion.

Jiang Huaiyan followed his gaze and saw that person’s chin, nose, and eyes.

That person was Gu Zhen.

How ridiculous. Some people are born with everything—power, status, wealth, family support and upbringing.

And also... Zhu Shinian’s gaze.

Zhu Shinian’s love.

Jiang Huaiyan opened his eyes. The air around him was faintly filled with the scent of a thousand-leaf rose.

Zhu Shinian’s pheromones.

Zhu Shinian held him, patting his back gently like a mother soothing her child, his fingers threaded through his hair—a posture of utmost intimacy.

Another dream.

He felt happy, but the thought that Zhu Shinian might have held Gu Zhen like this before consumed him with jealousy.

He raised his head and bit down on Zhu Shinian’s gland at the nape of his neck.

In the dream, Zhu Shinian was defenseless, seeming somewhat startled; as the pheromones were injected, his whole body gave a slight tremble.

But he didn’t resist. Like a meek lamb, he obediently let Jiang Huaiyan deliberately prolong the marking, slowly injecting the pheromones into his gland.

If it were just marking, it could be done in an instant.

A slow marking was a unique form of flirtation between lovers.

As his pheromones slowly entered and coursed through his bloodstream, it felt like a soul bond, like being caressed all over his body by a lover.

Jiang Huaiyan gripped Zhu Shinian’s waist, savoring his gentle lenience.

He would do the same to Gu Zhen.

This thought made Jiang Huaiyan jealous, but the fact that Zhu Shinian was now his made him smug.

The air was filled with a faint, sweet fragrance—cedarwood mixed with roses.

“...Brother,” Zhu Shinian called out softly.

It took only a single second to fall from heaven to hell. Jiang Huaiyan’s pupils slowly came back into focus. He slowly unclenched his teeth from the nape of Zhu Shinian’s neck, his mind momentarily blank.

This wasn’t... a dream.

It was like a mountain collapsing, a tidal wave roaring.

Jiang Huaiyan realized he was utterly finished.

He could no longer pretend to be Zhu Cheng, putting on a performance at Zhu Shinian’s side, usurping his place as a family member, stealing the love meant for family.

The brother Zhu Shinian felt guilty about and loved had always been someone who should only see him as a younger brother, who only ever wanted the whole family to live well.

Not someone who wanted to sleep with his own younger brother, the biological son of his benefactor and adoptive mother.

Then he immediately pitied Zhu Shinian.

He had taken away his kind, upright brother and given him only this hypocritical, despicable version of himself.

“I...” Jiang Huaiyan’s voice was hoarse as he spoke. “You can hate me.”

“Don’t think of me as that brother of yours anymore. Just think of him as... dead.”

“I’m not him. The first time I saw you, I thought you were gorgeous, and I wanted to steal you away from Gu Zhen.”

Author’s note: