Xie Mingzhu jolted awake from her dream.
That was right—the last person she had seen before dying was Huo Xuan!
But why had he looked the way he did? It seemed as if her death had hurt him more than his own death would have.
She reached up and rubbed her throbbing head.
A knock came at the door, followed by Xie Shaoqian’s voice: “Mingzhu? Are you alright?”
Her voice came out hoarse. “I’m fine. Just had a bad dream.”
“Alright. We’re just outside, so don’t be afraid. Call us if you need anything,” Xie Shaoqian replied.
Xie Mingzhu murmured an acknowledgment.
She lay back down, but tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep again.
The sound of Xie Shaoqian and Huo Xuan talking had faded away—they must have gone over to the empty men’s dormitory next door to sleep. No one had lived there for a long time; earlier, Xie Mingzhu had already made the beds there with fresh sheets and quilts.
Since she couldn’t sleep, she simply got up.
Though it was already May, the nights still carried a slight chill. She threw on her coat and sat down on the stone steps of the courtyard.
Gazing up at the night sky and listening to the hum of insects all around, her restless heart finally began to settle.
“Still not asleep?”
Huo Xuan’s voice came suddenly from the side, making her jump.
She turned to find him leaning lazily against the wall—nothing like his usual upright, rigid posture. In the moonlight, she could see that his cheeks were flushed faintly red.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked again.
His voice, normally clear and crisp, had grown rough and husky from the wine.
“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Xie Mingzhu answered softly. “Did you drink too much?”
Only alcohol could make him act so unlike himself.
“Not at all. I haven’t had too much,” Huo Xuan insisted, shaking his head back and forth like a rattle-drum.
Seeing him like this, Xie Mingzhu found him oddly endearing and couldn’t help smiling. “And you say you’re not drunk!”
Huo Xuan ignored her remark. Instead, he looked straight at her with a serious expression and asked in a low voice, “Xie Mingzhu… do you regret it?”
Taken aback, Xie Mingzhu had no idea what he meant.
Then he smiled, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Maybe I really have had too much.”
He was starting to talk nonsense.
Xie Mingzhu stood up and stepped closer, frowning at him. “If you’re drunk, why aren’t you back resting?”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her tightly into his arms.
“Xie Mingzhu… I’ve missed you so much.”
He lowered his head and buried his face against the curve of her neck, wrapping his strong arms firmly around her and pulling her close.
Every time he closed his eyes, the horrific sight of her falling right in front of him replayed in his mind uncontrollably. The image of blood pooling all over the ground still made him tremble. Only by holding her in his arms now, breathing in her familiar scent, could he calm his shaking heart.
Resting against his chest, Xie Mingzhu felt his heart beating wildly, and her breath caught.
“Huo Xuan? You really are drunk.”
She pushed against him, but he did not budge an inch. “Huo Xuan?”
He fell still, and soon the steady rhythm of his breathing told her he had drifted off.
Xie Mingzhu frowned.
Asleep already?
She tried pushing him again, but he remained as solid as a rock.
He had always been tall and sturdy, standing out wherever he went. With such a strong frame, there was no way she could move him by herself.
She called out for her Second Brother. But Xie Shaoqian slept deeply; even through closed windows, his snores were clearly audible.
When her calls went unanswered, Xie Mingzhu sighed deeply and shook Huo Xuan harder. “Huo Xuan! Huo Xuan, wake up!”
No matter how much she shouted, he did not respond.
Her patience ran out, and she pried at his arms with all her strength.
Finally, after much effort, she managed to rouse him.
The moment he opened his eyes, the first thing he said was, “Xie Mingzhu… live well.”
His words left her stunned again.
She had a vague feeling—Huo Xuan, just like her, also remembered everything that had happened in their past lives.
“Huo Xuan,” she asked tentatively, “do you also remember what happened in our previous life?”
He did not answer directly, only mumbled thickly, “Qin Haoyu is trash. He never deserved you. You deserve someone far better.”
Xie Mingzhu leaned in closer, but he fell silent again.
“Enough! If you keep this up, I’m really going to get angry!” she said firmly.
At her tone, the strength of his embrace loosened noticeably.
She pushed him hard, and without support, he slid down the wall and slumped onto the ground.
Xie Mingzhu couldn’t just leave him there. She had to prop him up and half-drag, half-walk him over to the men’s dormitory next door.
By the time she got him onto his bed, she was drenched in sweat.
She looked down at him, eyes closed and breathing steadily, and let out a soft sigh before turning to leave.
The instant she stepped out, Huo Xuan’s eyes snapped open. In the darkness, they seemed to glow with a sharp, bright light.
The next morning, before dawn had fully broken, activity stirred all around.
The crowing of roosters, the barking of dogs, and the chatter of people filled the air. Hearing such lively sounds again after so long, Xie Mingzhu felt momentarily disoriented.
She dressed and opened her door. The door to the neighboring dormitory was already open—clearly, both Huo Xuan and Xie Shaoqian were up. She hadn’t expected them to rise so early after drinking so heavily the night before.
Walking in, she found Xie Shaoqian already making his bed.
He smiled when he saw her. “I thought you’d sleep a little longer, so I didn’t wake you. How are you feeling this morning? Any headache or discomfort from the wine?”
Xie Mingzhu shook her head. “This isn’t the army, you know. Why didn’t you sleep in a bit?”
“I’m used to getting up early,” Xie Shaoqian said with a light laugh, his hands still working to smooth the sheets into perfect order.
“Since you’re not going through with the wedding,” he asked, “are you planning to head back to the city soon? If you say the word, I can have your transfer papers approved in no time.”
Xie Mingzhu nodded. “Yes.”
Seeing her answer without hesitation, Xie Shaoqian knew she had truly let go of all past illusions.
“Then I’ll stop by the commune office on my way out to call Father and tell him how things stand here.”
It had been a long time since she had seen her father, and just thinking of him made Xie Mingzhu feel a surge of warmth and longing.
“You’re leaving today?” she asked, unable to hide her disappointment. “Can’t you stay a few more days?”
Xie Shaoqian shook his head. “I only got four days’ leave. Most of that time is already spent traveling back and forth.”
As much as she hated to see him go, Xie Mingzhu could only keep her reluctance to herself.