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Chapter 3
In a fluster, Song Jinhe unconsciously raised her voice. “What kind of expression is that? You’ve seen him too—doesn’t it show at a glance?”
Song Xiao was stunned and shook his head, speaking honestly, “At a glance? I can’t tell.”
Indeed, it was hard to tell.
Sheng Congyuan was tall but not burly.
Perhaps it was his naturally cold and noble aura that made it difficult to associate him with the rough, unkempt soldiers.
His attire was always understated and somber; the seemingly simple clothes could not conceal his noble bearing.
At first glance, one might think it was his strikingly handsome face that made anything he wore look good.
In truth, it was because beneath his clothes, his physique was perfectly sculpted and muscular, hidden from view.
His figure and bone structure supported his neat attire just right, making him exceptionally elegant.
Song Xiao had only met Sheng Congyuan a few times and from a distance each time, so he wouldn’t notice such details.
But Song Jinhe was confused by the images in her dreams.
She could hardly tell if that powerful figure was a product of her imagination or reality.
Yet, why on earth had she started fantasizing about his physique?
Embarrassed and angry, Song Jinhe snapped, “That just means your eyes are poor!”
*
That night.
Song Jinhe lay in her warm bed, wide awake with bright eyes, afraid to close them and fall asleep.
If it were truly because seeing Sheng Congyuan had sparked her imagination and caused her to have all sorts of chaotic dreams, then after having seen him clearly up close again today, she dared not imagine how absurd and outrageous her dreams might be.
She neither dared to sleep nor wished to dream of Sheng Congyuan.
Yet after a long while, drowsiness overwhelmed her, impossible to resist.
Her eyelids fluttered in a struggle, her lips moved slightly, silently praying again and again.
Please don’t dream of him. Please don’t dream of him again.
It was like a psychological suggestion, like speaking to the heavens.
She truly had no interest in him whatsoever.
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Sheng Congyuan also lay on his bed with eyes wide open, showing no sign of sleepiness.
His long fingers curled unconsciously beneath the covers, eventually clenching into a fist.
Today she said she didn’t remember.
Was it to avoid suspicion, or had she truly forgotten him?
Silently, he stared at the ceiling beams, his gaze dark and unclear.
It had indeed been many years.
He had grown from a timid, weak chubby boy into a mature man fully capable of standing on his own.
She had transformed from an innocent, soft little girl into a graceful young lady.
The vivid image of Song Jinhe’s radiant, alluring face flashed before his eyes, stirring ripples in his heart.
A sour ache, burning heat, restless and unbearable, struggling against the intangible image he could not grasp, unable to free himself.
The promises of youth were like sand scattered by the wind, utterly worthless now.
Not even leaving a trace in her heart.
She had a fiancé now; she was to marry another.
Inevitably, Sheng Congyuan recalled his deliberately indifferent reply at his mother’s birthday banquet.
When his mother asked if he still remembered his childhood playmate.
He lowered his eyes and answered, “I don’t remember.”
But this feigned calm was utterly different from Song Jinhe’s genuinely indifferent answer today.
Just a moment ago, he had been restless with the joy of their reunion after so long.
The next moment, the fact she had a fiancé froze him in place, forcing him to deceive himself into forgetting.
But how could he forget?
Throughout those long ten years, he had imagined countless times the day they would meet again.
At first, his feelings were so intense that even the slightest fantasy kept him awake at night.
Later, time dulled the surface emotions, leaving only a hidden obsession deep within.
Sheng Congyuan never imagined it would end like this.
His clenched fist creaked.
In the dark night, his expression appeared grim and terrifying.
Suddenly he turned over, facing the wall, tightly wrapping himself in the covers, exhaling a heavy breath, and forced himself to close his eyes.
*
For several days, Song Jinhe had been sulky and sullen.
When asked, she said she hadn’t been sleeping well.
Yet her cheeks glowed with health, and she showed no signs of insomnia.
In fact, Song Jinhe had no insomnia at all.
She slept deeply every night, waking refreshed at dawn.
But Sheng Congyuan appeared in her dreams every night as expected.
If those dreams were truly real…
She and Sheng Congyuan would be indulging in nightly revelry and debauchery.
As if with inexhaustible energy, every night they must…
“Jinhe? I’m talking to you, are you listening?”
Song Jinhe was startled, her eyes trembling. She swiftly met her mother Yu Lan’s worried gaze.
Only then did she come back to herself. “Mother, what did you say?”
“You’ve been so distracted lately. Are you feeling unwell?”
Song Jinhe: “...I’m not unwell, just haven’t been sleeping well.”
Yu Lan looked her over curiously, seeing no unusual pallor, but rather a more radiant complexion than before.
She pursed her lips, putting aside her daughter’s distraction, and repeated, “That painting, we must bid on it no matter what today. Your father wants to present it to Lord Li as a birthday gift next month.”
Lord Li? Another person connected to Sheng Congyuan!
Song Jinhe’s expression shifted slightly. Before she could speak, Yu Lan added in a gentle voice, “Your elder brother has also agreed to let you bid on that jewelry you liked—today, you can bid on both.”
Song Jinhe was speechless.
Even her brother was involved; it seemed using this painting as a gift was his idea.
She lowered her eyes, resigned. “Alright, I understand.”
*
Liulige—the capital’s largest auction house.
Rare treasures from all over, exotic and unique items from abroad, all could appear here.
Bidding was fierce; the highest price won.
Half a month ago, Song Ning had learned that an original work by a deceased famous painter would be auctioned here.
This painting was priceless, rare, and highly valuable for collectors.
Using it as a birthday gift for the influential Lord Li was certainly fitting.
He suggested to their father to buy it. Though expensive, it was worth it.
Song Qingcang, who no longer managed family affairs, accepted Song Ning’s arrangement without objection.
Song Jinhe sat in the carriage, reluctant.
Lord Sheng’s birthday had just passed; now Lord Li’s birthday was approaching.
Would that mean she might see Sheng Congyuan again?
She wondered if she could find a suitable excuse to avoid the banquet.
Her head ached, and her mood grew restless again.
Upon arrival at Liulige, the attendants greeted her respectfully and invited her inside.
The Song family were regular patrons, reserving the best private room on the second floor exclusively. Whether the family attended or not, no other guests were admitted there.
After entering the room, Ming Qiu quickly instructed the attendants to follow Song Jinhe’s usual preferences.
Soon, tea and snacks were served, and gentle incense filled the air.
The pleasant fragrance eased some of Song Jinhe’s gloom.
Yet the worry between her brows remained, and she wearily rubbed her temple.
Having observed her for days, Ming Qiu had already noticed her mistress’s unusual behavior.
Before the auction began, the room was calm and peaceful.
She leaned in, softly asking, “Miss, have you encountered some trouble lately? Perhaps I can help ease your burden?”
Song Jinhe propped her head with one hand, hesitated, then said, “I haven’t been sleeping well recently.”
Ming Qiu was about to drop the subject, but Song Jinhe continued, “I keep having strange dreams.”
“Dreams?”
Song Jinhe suddenly sat upright, looking tense. “Ming Qiu, I think I’m possessed.”
“Miss, don’t scare me! You’re perfectly fine. How could you be possessed?”
Song Jinhe pursed her lips. “I don’t know why this is happening. I dream of irrelevant people, and even things that don’t exist. If that’s not possession, then what is?”
“But dreams are supposed to be vague and boundless, full of whimsy and fantasy. Strange scenes are nothing unusual, right?”
“What if the dreams are so vivid they feel real?”
“Miss, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
“I can clearly see the person’s face, smell his scent, feel his warm body temperature, even the mole on his collarbone…”
Song Jinhe’s pupils shrank abruptly, and she stopped speaking.
A brief silence fell in the room.
Ming Qiu stared wide-eyed, whispering after a moment, “Miss, whose mole do you mean?”
Song Jinhe’s back stiffened, like a cat caught by its tail. Blushing, she denied repeatedly, “No one! I just said it casually, as a metaphor. It’s just like that. Don’t you think I’m possessed?”
Ming Qiu thought for a moment, her face troubled. “This does sound strange. Dreams are supposed to be blurry.”
Song Jinhe sighed, her brows clouded again.
But Ming Qiu’s eyes brightened. “Miss, if you’re possessed, then we can exorcise it.”
“Exorcise?”
“I know a famous Taoist priest on Mount Yuntai, skilled in expelling evil spirits. Since this has troubled you for some time, if you agree, we can visit him. Maybe he can solve the problem.”
Song Jinhe opened her mouth in surprise, speechless for a long moment.
She only suspected possession; she didn’t truly believe in such things.
But the dreams had indeed tormented her for a while.
Not only Sheng Congyuan, even Zhu Mingxuan appeared as a detestable hypocrite in her dreams.
After some thought, she decided, “Let’s try it. Arrange it for me.”
“Yes, Miss.”
The auction began.
Song Jinhe watched the lots displayed, pondering the exorcism matter.
After a while, a noise came from outside her room.
Ming Qiu reported, “Miss, Young Master Zhu is here.”
Song Jinhe was slightly startled, raising a hand.
Ming Qiu bowed and went to invite Zhu Mingxuan in.
He stepped into the room, softly calling the slender figure inside, “Jinhe.”
Song Jinhe didn’t turn, merely beckoning him with a finger, her gaze still on the items on the stage.
At that moment, the pair of jade beads she had been eyeing was up for auction.
If she hadn’t been determined to win them, she wouldn’t have agreed to bid on the gift for Lord Li.
With Song Ning’s backing, she wasn’t worried about losing the lot.
She focused intently, immediately following any bids without hesitation, having no time to pay attention to her fiancé’s sudden arrival.
Only when she won the jade beads at a high price did she come back to herself.
Turning, she saw Zhu Mingxuan had been beside her for some time.
“Why are you here?”
Zhu Mingxuan showed no impatience, speaking gently, “We haven’t seen each other for days. I wanted to invite you to enjoy spring together today, but hearing you were at Liulige, I thought you must have found something you liked, so I came to accompany you.”
Song Jinhe belatedly recalled she had neglected him for days.
She had declined an invitation to the Spring Flower Pavilion and hadn’t paid him much mind since.
She rarely felt guilt; now she showed a trace of it, nodding slightly. “Yes, I liked those jade beads and won them.”
Zhu Mingxuan expressed a brief regret, “I wanted to take this chance to buy you something you liked, to show my longing during our time apart.”
Song Jinhe glanced at him oddly, unsure if he meant he had planned to buy the jade beads for her.
If so, why had he been silent beside her?
She opened her mouth to speak when sudden noise from the auction drew her attention.
The coveted painting appeared on the stage.
The original work by a famous painter stirred excitement; everyone wanted to win it.
Song Jinhe casually said, “No matter. I was going to bid on this ancient painting anyway. You can give me the jade beads as a gift.”
Zhu Mingxuan was stunned, his expression flickering.
He nervously glanced at the stage, twitching his lips with a dry laugh. “Since when did you become interested in ancient paintings?”
Bids were already coming in, but Song Jinhe was not in a hurry. She replied, “My father wants it. Will you give it to me?”
“Your Uncle Song?”
Song Jinhe withdrew her gaze and looked at Zhu Mingxuan. His embarrassed expression betrayed some unease.
She smiled and said, “I’m joking. This painting isn’t cheap. I’ll bid myself.”
She raised her hand and made the first bid.
An astronomical price.
Zhu Mingxuan’s throat tightened, thinking no one would outbid such a high price.
He quickly said, “If Uncle Song wants it, I should do my part. If anyone else bids, I will outbid them.”
But just as he finished, Song Jinhe’s bid was immediately outdone.
She raised an eyebrow without surprise, then stepped back, giving Zhu Mingxuan a chance to perform before her future father-in-law. “Fine, you go ahead.”
Zhu Mingxuan panicked, eyes fixed on the painting, unable to understand how anyone could outbid on a mere landscape.
The atmosphere froze in that instant.
Song Jinhe, however, urged, “Hurry and bid, or someone else will take it.”
Zhu Mingxuan raised his hand but couldn’t bring himself to call out a bid.
He hesitated, searching for a way to gracefully back down.
Song Jinhe frowned, urging, “If you won’t bid, I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” Zhu Mingxuan quickly stopped her.
He couldn’t let his boast become empty words; he needed a better plan.
Then, with a decisive hammer strike, the painting was sold to someone else.
Song Jinhe immediately exclaimed, “Zhu Mingxuan, why did you stop me?”
Zhu Mingxuan was taken aback, secretly relieved, but still feigned panic. “So fast? I was just about to bid.”
“There were three calls from below; that’s plenty of time!”
“But I truly didn’t make it in time.”
Song Jinhe wouldn’t listen to excuses. Impatiently, she shrugged off his hand, about to get angry.
Zhu Mingxuan quickly soothed her kindly, “It’s just a painting. If Uncle Song likes it, I’ll find another famous painting to gift him. It’s my fault for being a step slow.”
His words only made Song Jinhe angrier.
She turned away coldly, refusing to look at him again, and ordered, “Ming Qiu, find out who bought that painting. See if we can negotiate a private sale.”
Since the painting sold for far less than Song Jinhe’s intended price, she would have difficulty explaining to her brother.
After all, money could solve this; she wasn’t about to give up.
Ming Qiu quickly left the room.
Zhu Mingxuan tried to make amends again. “Jinhe, I…”
Song Jinhe, already irritable from those inexplicable dreams, was not one to tolerate anyone, even her fiancé.
She cut him off, “Don’t speak now.”
Seeing the situation, Zhu Mingxuan pressed his lips, saying no more.
Soon, Ming Qiu returned. “Miss, the buyer is willing to negotiate. He invites you to his room to discuss.”
Song Jinhe’s expression softened slightly as she stood.
Zhu Mingxuan wanted to follow.
Song Jinhe snapped, “Don’t come. I’ll go alone.”
Before he could react, she walked swiftly out.
The buyer’s room was at the other end of the corridor, also a prime spot on the second floor, likely someone wealthy or influential.
Song Jinhe thought, if so, paying a bit more wouldn’t matter; after all, it was her own fault for missing the lot.
At the door, Ming Qiu knocked and reported, “Sir, Miss Jinhe has arrived.”
“Come in.”
Song Jinhe froze, as if rooted to the spot.
The deep voice beyond the door sounded familiar.
But this familiarity was unlike anyone she knew.
Her thoughts faltered as Ming Qiu slowly opened the door.
The scent of tea filled the room.
A folding screen stood in the center, hiding most of the occupant’s figure.
Hesitating briefly, Song Jinhe stepped inside.
Ming Qiu stayed by the door and closed it behind her.
A soft click.
Behind the screen, black boots moved, revealing a tall figure.
Song Jinhe’s eyes trembled; she stared wide-eyed in shock, as if seeing a ghost, instinctively turning to run.
Urgent footsteps rapidly approached as she stiffly turned.
She raised her hand to open the door.
Suddenly, Sheng Congyuan’s imposing body blocked her path.
Like a shadow from her dreams, darkness enveloped the space before her.
He stood firm, face solemn, eyes lowered to fix on her, his voice carrying a threat:
“Miss Song, please wait.”