Helian Jin lay within.
He was dressed in luxurious brocade robes, his face like polished jade with a sickly pallor, yet he remained breathtakingly handsome as he slept peacefully on the bed.
He was truly, undeniably handsome.
In that moment, her action of parting the gauze curtain resembled unwrapping the ribbon from an exquisite gift.
This gift was fragile and precious, so Yun Jichu proceeded with the lightest touch.
There was no medicinal scent in the room, so Helian Jin was likely not ill.
But for him to be sleeping here in Fengluan Palace, his Favorability must have reached an extraordinary height.
Yun Jichu sat on the edge of the bed, unable to fathom what the game’s warning about Helian Jin’s unstable data truly meant.
He was still the same Helian Jin as before. Time had simply shifted, and his temperament had evolved somewhat.
Over the past three days of feverish delirium at home, she had slowly come to terms with it.
As long as he was still Helian Jin, that was enough.
With utmost care, she reached out and brushed his cheek.
The skin felt smooth beneath her palm, its temperature slightly cool. This was the first time in over a month that she had touched him of her own volition.
He really was so handsome.
Among the countless character portraits, Yun Jichu had chosen him at first sight.
She had never been able to resist beautiful things.
Unwittingly, her fingers trailed over his brow bone, then down the straight bridge of his nose. By the time she realized it, they were already caressing Helian Jin’s lips.
Those kisses from recent days flashed abruptly through her mind.
Her eyelids burned with heat, and Yun Jichu quickly withdrew her hand, pressing the back of it against her cheek.
Suddenly, the man lying on the bed murmured something under his breath.
Unable to make out the words clearly, Yun Jichu leaned closer, offering her ear to listen carefully.
“Ah Chu… Ah Chu…”
It was Helian Jin calling her name.
Before she could pull away, Helian Jin abruptly opened his eyes from below.
But he simply stared at her without a word, his gaze devoid of even the slightest ripple—like a pool of stagnant water.
Yun Jichu felt awkward under that stare. Her arm was still propped at his side, and she didn’t know whether to pull it back or leave it there.
“Helian Jin…”
“Ah Chu has truly slipped back into a dream.” He had seen right through her sincerity.
“Ah?”
Before Yun Jichu could finish uttering the syllable, Helian Jin seized her waist and lifted her, placing her on the inner side of the bed.
She hadn’t even taken off her shoes.
Yun Jichu pushed herself up, only for Helian Jin to pounce on her again.
The two of them tumbled together in a tangle.
Helian Jin kissed her with wild abandon, first gnawing at her lips before plunging into her mouth. His tongue hooked around hers, relentless, one thrust after another.
It was as if he were waiting for her response—or perhaps simply venting.
Yun Jichu felt a flush of shyness.
A few years ago, during their intimate moments, she had let herself go completely.
After all, she had thought it was all a dream. Who could face their ideal type in a dream and still act all coy and reserved, holding back from doing anything?
But now…
Yun Jichu tried to dodge backward at first, pushing against Helian Jin with a pleading gesture.
Yet he showed no mercy. He pinned her firmly beneath him, his scorching heat grinding against her as his lips and tongue ensnared hers. Even his hands refused to behave.
Her dress was tugged halfway down her body. One of Helian Jin’s palms caressed the dip of her waist, while the other roamed impatiently upward along her flat abdomen.
When he kneaded her there, Yun Jichu flinched and shrank back.
A sharp clamor exploded in her mind. It was all happening too fast—she hadn’t adjusted yet. Could they stop for a moment?
Part of her wanted to flee.
Her thoughts were a chaotic mess when it hit her: in her dreams, she had lost control with her ideal type. Now Helian Jin believed this was a dream too, and with his favorability toward her so sky-high, she must qualify as his ideal type as well.
No wonder he couldn’t hold back!
As the thought crossed her mind, Helian Jin finally released her lips and bit down on the other side through the fabric.
“Guh…” Yun Jichu clutched her head. “Helian Jin! Helian Jin, wake up! Wake up! This isn’t a dream!”
Everything came to a sudden halt.
“Ah Chu?”
“Mm…”
“Ah Chu.”
“It’s me.”
“Ah Chu…”
That final call carried a hint of a choke. Yun Jichu could hardly believe it, yet she didn’t dare lift his head to look closely.
She hesitated for a moment before finally placing her hand on his hair and giving it a gentle rub.
The bed was a wreck, her lips throbbed with pain, and her dress barely covered her skin. The man loomed over her like a mountain, with certain places still scorchingly intimidating.
This was hardly the setting for a heartfelt reunion or tender emotions.
And yet, she still rubbed his hair.
During that silent half quarter-hour, she responded to him softly. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s me…”
At last, Helian Jin stirred. He lifted his head from above her, his stunning eyes fixed intently on her face.
As if confirming, over and over, whether this was truly no dream.
Yun Jichu’s face grew hot under that gaze. She averted her eyes, glancing elsewhere, but soon couldn’t resist shifting them back to meet his.
The fabric over her chest had turned damp and cool, whether from his earlier bites or something else.
Finally, Yun Jichu couldn’t bear it any longer. She let out a shy laugh, pursing her lips as she whispered, “Can you get up first?”
Helian Jin snapped back to himself.
He lowered his gaze to the disarray beneath him, withdrew his body a little, and pulled over a thin quilt to wrap around Yun Jichu.
With that sense of security at last, Yun Jichu relaxed completely. Only then did she realize how tense she had been all along—and she wondered if Helian Jin had noticed.
She was cradled in his arms now. Helian Jin gazed at her, his palm stroking her cheek again and again, for a long, long time.
Yun Jichu had no idea what was going through his mind.
He didn’t ask where she had gone or how she had returned. He simply caressed her with greedy tenderness, his eyes never leaving her face for an inch.
Yun Jichu didn’t know where to begin either.
Was she supposed to tell Helian Jin that he was nothing more than a game she played in her leisure time?
Or should she recount her own origins—explain that she came from the twenty-first century, an era without emperors, where unscrupulous corporations held all the power?
However it was, there was one thing Yun Jichu still needed to make clear.
“I remember now. Ah Chu, Chu Chu—they’re both me. My name is Yun Jichu.”
“I know,” Helian Jin said.
The Fairy—perhaps that was her too.
Yun Jichu suddenly noticed that he had used “I” instead of “Zhen.”
Just like years ago, when he never used “This Prince” but simply “I.”
Because Yun Jichu disliked self-referential terms like “This Concubine,” he had followed her lead and dropped the formalities as well.
“Yun Jichu.”
Helian Jin spoke her name.
It was rare for anyone to call Yun Jichu with such earnest gentleness.
In front of her parents, she had been the innocent and carefree Little Chu.
After starting school, among classmates and teachers, she was the quiet and taciturn Little Yun.
Once she began working, in front of her superiors, she was the diligent and efficient Little Chu.
Later still, among her team members, she was the responsible and capable Teacher Chu.
In short, she had always seemed to be Yun Jichu, and yet somehow never truly was.
“Mm?”
Yun Jichu responded to him.
It was like a long-shut door suddenly swinging open, or like pent-up waters finally surging past a breached dam.
Helian Jin suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace, his chin resting in the hollow of her shoulder. His urgent breaths carried waves of warmth.
“Helian Jin.”
Yun Jichu’s arms wrapped around him too, though she couldn’t quite encircle him fully. Instead, she placed her palms against his back and gently rubbed.
“Mm.”
Helian Jin responded in kind.
For some inexplicable reason, the anxiety and unease that had gripped her heart since logging back into the game began to fade.
Suddenly, the man atop her erupted into a fit of coughing. Yun Jichu loosened her hold to help soothe him, but he pulled away.
Helian Jin released her and gripped the bedpost, covering his mouth with his sleeve.
He coughed so violently that the bed shook, and Yun Jichu half-feared he might cough up blood.
Yun Jichu gathered the thin quilt around herself and stepped forward to smooth his back.
At long last, the coughing subsided.
Helian Jin didn’t glance at his sleeve, merely tucking his arm behind his back.
Just then, footsteps echoed from beyond the hall doors, followed by Cui Cheng’s voice.
“Your Majesty, is it time for your medicine?”
He sounded deeply concerned and took a few steps closer, as if to push the doors open.
“No need,” came the emperor’s low, steady voice.
Cui Cheng acknowledged the order and retreated to his post, not daring to enter.
Yun Jichu grew anxious. “You’re coughing like that—why won’t you take your medicine?”
Helian Jin looked at her but said nothing.
“Turn around.”
Helian Jin obediently turned his back to her.
Yun Jichu pushed the thin quilt aside and, by the moonlight, began slipping into her dress.
One tie on the left, another on the right—she fumbled about haphazardly for a moment before realizing she’d gotten it backward. She sighed in frustration. “Oh dear.”
Helian Jin, still facing away, asked, “Do you need help?”
“No.”
Yun Jichu struggled a bit longer, but it still wouldn’t cooperate.
What was going on? Helian Jin had undone it so smoothly and effortlessly, yet putting it back on felt impossibly tricky.
“Let me help you.”
Yun Jichu seized the opportunity. “If you take your medicine properly, then I will—”
Before she could finish, Helian Jin had already spun around with brisk efficiency.
“…”
Yun Jichu pressed her hands to her chest to keep the dress from slipping, her gaze unsure where to land. In the end, it settled on Helian Jin’s face.
His movements were gentle, his expression focused. His face, flushed from the coughing fit, no longer resembled the aloof jade-like gentleman; instead, he evoked a debonair young lord rousing from a beguiling slumber amid blooming crabapple blossoms.
Yun Jichu averted her eyes.
Helian Jin’s fingers were cool, brushing her collarbone and nape now and then. It sent a feather-light tickle through her heart.