“Mistaken identity?” Xiao Heng repeated the words, his voice calm—far too calm for someone who had just been mistaken in bed.
Shen Jin braced herself and nodded. “Yes. I mistook you.”
“And who were you trying to mistake me for?”
“…” Shen Jin froze. She couldn’t possibly say “I meant to mistake the Crown Prince”, could she? That would be suicide. The original Shen Jin had landed herself in this mess precisely because she wanted to seduce the Crown Prince. If she dared admit it now, even Xiao Heng’s famously good temper would snap.
Sure, the books said Xiao Heng had a gentle disposition. But that was before he was cuckolded.
“Well…” Shen Jin’s eyes darted nervously. “It’s not important.”
Xiao Heng stared at her for three long seconds. His gaze was unreadable—half probing, half confirming something.
Shen Jin’s scalp prickled under his scrutiny, and she instinctively tried to shrink back. Only to realize she couldn’t—his arm was still locked firmly around her waist.
“Um,” Shen Jin pointed at his arm, “could you move that?”
Xiao Heng glanced down. He didn’t budge. “Last night you weren’t this polite,” he said.
Shen Jin: “…………”
Help. Why was he bringing up old accounts?
She drew a deep breath, determined to handle this like an adult. “My lord,” she cleared her throat, trying to look dignified, “last night was purely a misunderstanding. We’re both adults—things happen, and there’s no need to dwell on it. I won’t cling to you or demand responsibility. Just pretend nothing happened. We’ll each go our own way—”
Her words cut off as Xiao Heng’s arm tightened, pulling her flush against his chest. Warm. Solid. Bare.
“What are you—”
Xiao Heng leaned closer, eyes locked on hers. Shen Jin squirmed but couldn’t break free. “I think we should handle this maturely,” she stammered.
“How?”
“By pretending it never happened.”
Xiao Heng was silent.
She thought he was considering it, and relief flickered in her chest.
Then he said, “Last night you bit my shoulder three times, clawed four bloody marks down my back, and moaned ‘so good’ seventeen times—do you expect me to pretend that never happened?”
Shen Jin: “………………”
She wanted to die on the spot. No—she wanted to dig a hole and bury herself alive. That was supposed to be a dream! She’d thought it was a dream, so she’d let herself go wild! How was she supposed to know it wasn’t?!
“I… I was talking in my sleep,” she tried weakly.
“You were awake.”
“I was sleepwalking.”
“Your eyes were open.”
“Sleepwalking with my eyes open.”
Xiao Heng gave her a look that clearly said: *Do you think I’m an idiot?*
Shen Jin gave up. Fine. No more pretending.
“So what do you want?” she snapped. “Me to take responsibility? I can’t. You to take responsibility? No need. Let’s just call it a one-night stand and move on.”
“One-night stand?” Xiao Heng frowned at the unfamiliar term, but seemed to grasp its meaning.
Seizing the moment, Shen Jin wriggled free, grabbed her clothes, and scrambled to dress.
Ancient clothing was a nightmare—layers upon layers. She fumbled and even put her dudou on backward.
Xiao Heng lounged against the bed, watching her flustered struggle, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Your dudou is backward,” he helpfully pointed out.
Shen Jin glanced down. Sure enough. But she didn’t care. Backward was fine—who would notice? Oh right. Xiao Heng would. She hastily fixed it, then straightened, regaining a shred of dignity.
Facing him squarely, she declared, “My lord, I’m serious. Last night was partly my fault, but I don’t need you to take responsibility. Let’s treat it as a fleeting encounter, nothing more. Once daylight comes, we go our separate ways. Agreed?”
Xiao Heng didn’t answer immediately.
Morning light streamed through the lattice, gilding his bare shoulders and collarbone. His face was so striking it hardly seemed real.
Shen Jin’s heart skipped—then she pinched herself hard. *Get a grip, Shen Jin! This isn’t a novel—you’re inside it! No matter how handsome he is, he’s not yours. Don’t repeat the original’s mistakes!*
“You’re sure?” Xiao Heng finally asked.
She nodded firmly. “Absolutely sure.”
“No regrets?”
“None.”
He studied her for so long that she thought he might pin her in place with his gaze. Then he smiled. It was faint, almost gentle—but it sent a chill down her spine. “Very well,” he said. “As you wish.”
Shen Jin exhaled in relief. She turned to leave.
“Wait.” His voice stopped her.
She froze. “Now what?”
“Your sash is tied backward.”
She looked down. Damn. It was! Face burning, she retied it and fled without looking back.
Xiao Heng watched her vanish through the doorway, his smile fading. He glanced at the deep bite marks on his shoulder—neat, vicious, unmistakably real.
And remembered her words from last night:
“Anyway, it’s just a dream.”
“I can’t get pregnant.”
“In real life I’ve never even held a boy’s hand.”
“In a dream, I have to—”
Those weren’t things a sheltered general’s daughter should say. Nor the words of a woman obsessed with the Crown Prince.
And her eyes this morning—clean, uncalculating. She knew who he was but didn’t care.
Xiao Heng tapped the bedframe with long fingers. Interesting. This woman was not the same as before.