Chapter 33: Sweet Dreams
Lin Wanbai and Lin Jingyu ceased their argument.
Lin Jingyu was delighted and about to nod in agreement when Lin Wanbai pinched her wrist, stifling the words she was about to accept, “No, you can tell Mr. Fu Juxing that we have our own plans and don’t need him to arrange anything extra for us. Thank you for coming all this way, goodbye.”
Lin Wanbai pulled Lin Jingyu to leave, but Lin Jingyu resisted, turning around to hold her back, “Fu Juxing has already arranged a place for us to stay, isn’t that nice? What are you doing?”
“Didn’t we agree on the plane that we’d handle the whole trip ourselves? Now you want to accept Fu Juxing’s arrangements—what’s that supposed to mean? Once you say something, you should stick to it and not change your mind.”
Lin Jingyu paused, then laughed, “And you still say nothing’s going on between you two?”
“Mom, what’s with you? I’m talking about one thing and you’re talking about another.”
“If there’s nothing between you and Fu Juxing, why are you so opposed to the people he’s arranged for us? Yes, we said we’d manage on our own, but your husband is so considerate, arranging everything ahead of time. There’s no reason to refuse, is there? Besides, you haven’t found a suitable hotel yet. Maybe the hotel you finally find will be the one Fu Juxing arranged, wasting our rest time.”
Lin Wanbai grinned, “You just hate trouble. You’ve lived too long with everything handed to you, and now you’re still a big baby.”
“Tsk, I’m your beloved mother and you say that to me?” Lin Jingyu pinched her, then dragged her back to the local guide, smiling, “Where’s the car?”
The young woman smiled brightly, pointing outside, “Just outside, you’ll see it as soon as you go out.”
“Let’s go then.”
Lin Wanbai was reluctant, “Mom!”
“Don’t make a fuss, listen to me.”
In the end, both boarded the car Fu Juxing had arranged. On the way, the young guide gave a brief introduction, “My surname is Xi, you can call me Little Xi.”
She didn’t mention the itinerary for the next few days but simply introduced the city, some interesting places, delicious restaurants, and various snacks. Her words were lively and warm.
Lin Wanbai remained mostly silent, while Lin Jingyu gradually warmed up, chatting actively. Little Xi quickly found Lin Jingyu’s interests, and the two were soon engaged in enthusiastic conversation.
Lin Wanbai watched Little Xi—this girl truly had skill, being able to make her mother so happy was no easy feat. Her phone buzzed; she glanced down to see a message from Fu Juxing.
[Have you arrived?]
He still didn’t know if they’d arrived. She raised her phone and replied with a smile.
Fu Juxing: [Stay there a few more days. Aunt Rong has packed your and mom’s luggage and sent it over.]
He was so considerate. She replied with a thank you emoji.
Fu Juxing: [Be careful outside, try not to go out at night, walk slowly when climbing the mountain, don’t fall…]
He sent a long string of reminders, covering everything. Lin Wanbai read carefully, feeling as if he were caring for a schoolchild—almost like she knew nothing.
She sighed inwardly, searched for a suitable emoji, but couldn’t find one that matched her mood, so she didn’t reply.
Lin Jingyu noticed her, leaned over and happened to glimpse Fu Juxing’s lengthy message. Even from the first sentence, she could guess the gist of the whole thing.
Little Xi was perceptive; she spoke when appropriate, and when not, she made herself invisible, quietly watching the scenery outside.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Are you done chatting?”
“There’s always more to talk about, but with your face like this, I can’t keep going.”
“Haven’t I been smiling all along?”
Lin Jingyu took out a mirror and placed it before her. Sure enough, she hadn’t realized her face was sullen—the corners of her mouth tilted up in a disdainful way.
Lin Wanbai turned away, smiled, and waved the mirror aside, “You really are my own mother.”
Little Xi had arranged the best local hotel, booking a luxury suite for the mother and daughter, and after escorting them to their room, left her business card and departed.
After entering, Lin Jingyu checked the environment—it was quite nice. Once settled, she phoned Chen Songyuan to report their safety.
Lin Wanbai sat on the sofa, legs crossed, watching her, still radiating happiness.
The old couple chatted on the phone for a long time before hanging up.
Lin Jingyu was in good spirits, “What should we have for dinner? I’m hungry.”
“Call Little Xi.”
“Good idea.” She cheerfully picked up her phone and called Little Xi.
Less than ten minutes later, Little Xi rang the doorbell. Lin Jingyu was ready to go out; Lin Wanbai was still lounging on the sofa, “I’m not going. You go ahead.”
Lin Jingyu didn’t push her, “I’ll bring something back for you.”
Soon, the suite was especially quiet. Lin Wanbai lay on the sofa, idly scrolling through social media. News about her still hadn’t died down, and her alternate account had been uncovered, with explosive comments—some scolding her, others, though few, praising her genuine personality.
Of course, such voices were rare, and even if they appeared, they’d be besieged and forced to delete their comments.
Even her alternate account had been exposed. She wondered if netizens were truly skilled or if someone was deliberately stirring trouble to ruin her reputation.
That Zhou Quan had posted a blog two hours ago: [Truly chilling.]
Within moments, comments exceeded ten thousand.
Many supported her, urging her not to panic, some advised caution since the other party was wealthy and even targeted their own sister—let alone her, a dancer with no background.
After a while, Lin Wanbai closed the social media app.
Fu Juxing’s message popped up again: [Remember to eat dinner, don’t diet.]
She put her phone down, dug out her pajamas from her suitcase, and went to shower.
Once inside, she found all the toiletries, down to the toothbrush cup, matched her preferences.
No wonder people said Fu Juxing was the perfect husband—he truly was. He seemed to have her completely figured out, knowing everything about her, even the tiniest details of her daily life.
After her shower, Lin Wanbai took a bottle of wine from the minibar—all were wines. She chose a white wine, opened it, and took a sip, finding it very much to her taste. She lay down on the chaise lounge by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the city’s nightscape.
She took another sip, set the glass aside.
Her phone rang—it was Han Chen.
She answered, putting him on speaker.
He’d seen the online news and hesitated for a while before calling. But once the call connected, he suddenly didn’t know how to begin.
Lin Wanbai spoke first, “Have you eaten?”
“I have.”
“What are you doing now?”
Han Chen: “Writing a resume.”
“Applying to Fu Corporation.”
Han Chen paused—he knew Fu Corporation was her husband’s company. Why was she telling him to apply there?
Lin Wanbai waited, seeing he wasn’t responding, and asked again, “Did you hear me?”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Listen to me.” Her tone was firm.
“Even if I apply, I might not get in.”
“I believe in you. I’ve seen your resume—I think you’ll be fine.”
“Why?” He was silent for a moment before asking.
“Do you want to go to a small company? If you do, how long will it take to pay off what you owe me?”
Han Chen was quiet for a while, then responded softly, “Got it.”
Once he listed those debts and handed them to Yang Ruyue, his life was no longer his own.
“Go on, I’ll hang up.” Lin Wanbai ended the call and, having nothing to do, searched for local entertainment spots.
In the end, she gave up, tossed her phone aside, and slept comfortably.
When Lin Jingyu returned, she brought food. Lin Wanbai ate only a little, and before Lin Jingyu could start nagging, she went back to her room to sleep.
The next day, Little Xi came to take them around the city, visiting a few simple tourist sites.
On the third day, Fu Juxing’s shipment arrived—two large suitcases.
On the fourth day, they officially set out for Mount Emei.
They first took a sightseeing bus to Leidongping. Then Little Xi offered two routes: one was hiking to the Golden Summit, about three hours; the other was hiking to Jieyin Hall and then taking the cable car.
Lin Wanbai said, “Since we’re here to honor the Bodhisattva, we should show sincerity and hike up. We can take the cable car down later.”
Lin Jingyu wasn’t confident about her stamina, but since her daughter decided, she went along.
She knew her daughter was in low spirits, though she didn’t speak of it, but everyone needs an outlet. If these three hours could ease her mind, it was worth it—even if it cost some energy and time.
They walked slowly, stopping for photos at scenic spots, and didn’t find it too exhausting. Lin Wanbai exercised regularly, so the three-hour hike was nothing for her.
Near the Golden Summit, Lin Jingyu couldn’t go on and needed a break, so she sat on a stone bench.
Lin Wanbai stood nearby, breathing in the fresh air. The altitude was slightly high—the higher they went, the harder it became, causing a sense of breathlessness, as if something pressed on her chest. She had to walk slowly; moving too fast made her pant.
Lin Jingyu had never climbed such a high mountain before.
Her face was pale.
Little Xi handed her some chocolate for energy.
“Mom, you’ll have to join me at the gym from now on—no more slacking.”
“Forget it, don’t make things hard for me. I already regret listening to you. I should have let you hike up and taken the cable car myself.”
“The cable car’s boring—you’d miss so much scenery. You should thank me.”
Lin Jingyu gave her a crooked smile, half laughing, half complaining.
After resting nearly half an hour, Lin Jingyu got up, and Lin Wanbai helped her as they continued upward.
Lin Jingyu said, “If there’s something on your mind, just say it. You know your family will always support you. Why torment yourself?”
“Mom, you’re overthinking. I’m just showing sincerity to the Bodhisattva.”
“You never believed before.”
“I do now—isn’t it better late than never?”
Reaching the Golden Summit, Lin Wanbai was stunned by the sea of clouds, feeling like she was in heaven.
Under Little Xi’s guidance, they went to the summit center to honor Samantabhadra Bodhisattva.
There were many visitors, all worshipping Samantabhadra.
Lin Jingyu squeezed to the front, earnestly praying for something unknown.
Lin Wanbai didn’t go in. She stood outside, gazing at the peaceful Bodhisattva. The sunlight shone on the statue’s crown, reflecting beams that resembled the Buddha’s radiance blessing all beings.
Such a sight unexpectedly brought Lin Wanbai peace, softening her entirely.
She closed her eyes and also bowed devoutly.
While her eyes were shut, Little Xi quietly snapped a photo nearby and sent it to Fu Juxing.
When Lin Wanbai finished praying, Little Xi walked over, “The Bodhisattva here is quite efficacious.”
“I can feel it.”
“Did you make any wishes?”
“Of course—for my family’s safety and health.”
As she finished speaking, Lin Jingyu emerged from the crowd, happily approaching.
Lin Wanbai took a photo where there were fewer people, then posted it on her social feed.
She received quite a few likes.
They stayed at the Golden Summit for some time, watched the sunset, and then took the cable car down.
There were many people for the cable car, requiring a queue. Thanks to Little Xi’s efforts, they only waited half an hour.
The ride down offered a different view.
Lin Jingyu was in a great mood, her face always wearing a kind smile.
As they exited the cable car, someone stood nearby. Lin Wanbai looked up, feeling a shock.
Because the cable car didn’t stop, you had to move quickly. In her moment of surprise, she was pulled down, stumbling into someone’s arms.
The man who had just sent her a trivial message now stood before her, and Lin Wanbai was momentarily stunned.
He held her, and she looked up at him, bewildered.
Fu Juxing smiled gently. Once she was steady, he released her and turned to Lin Jingyu, “Mom.”
“Yes.” She smiled and nodded.
Lin Wanbai came to her senses, instinctively brushing his hand away, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve wrapped up things, so I came over. Grandpa wasn’t at ease with you two women out alone, and since I had nothing pressing, I came to accompany you.”
“Grandpa’s worries are unnecessary—there aren’t that many bad people out there.”
Fu Juxing smiled without replying.
Lin Jingyu clicked her tongue, “It’s good that Ah Xing is here. I always feel safer with a man around to carry things and bags.”
Lin Wanbai protested, “Haven’t I always been carrying your bags? You never have to lift a finger.”
Lin Jingyu ignored her, looking at Fu Juxing, “So what are we doing next? Any plans?”
“Dinner first—I’ve made a reservation. After praying to Buddha, a vegetarian meal is appropriate, yes?”
“Yes, yes, very thoughtful.”
Lin Jingyu smiled and walked ahead with Little Xi, leaving space for the young couple.
Fu Juxing’s arrival made Lin Jingyu feel reassured.
Her beloved daughter deserved to be cherished and protected.
Lin Wanbai suppressed her happiness, glanced sideways, “Didn’t I tell you to rest at home? Why did you come?”
“As I said, Grandpa instructed me.”
“Liar.”
“I never lie to you.”
Lin Wanbai scoffed, saying nothing more.
After a few seconds, Fu Juxing asked, “Was the mountain fun?”
“It was alright, the scenery’s nice.”
“What did you wish for?”
“Nothing, really.”
He smiled but said nothing.
They reached the restaurant and entered a private room.
After a day out, Lin Jingyu was exhausted. The three of them sat down; Little Xi and her companion went elsewhere.
Fu Juxing poured tea for Lin Wanbai and Lin Jingyu.
Lin Jingyu remembered Fu Juxing was still injured, “Actually, you should be resting at home. All this traveling must be hard on your body.”
Lin Wanbai sat between them, sipping tea indifferently.
Lin Jingyu looked past her at Fu Juxing.
The two conversed across her, but she remained calm, as if surrounded by a barrier that blocked out their words, content in her own world.
Lin Jingyu said, “Too bad our Xiao Bai isn’t good at taking care of people—you’ll have to look after yourself.”
“It’s a minor injury, doesn’t need her care.”
“Our Xiao Bai was pampered all her life, so the husband she marries must have a heart like mine, able to love and cherish her forever, never letting her suffer.”
Lin Wanbai glanced sideways.
Lin Jingyu wore a kindly smile, but her words were full of reminders for Fu Juxing.
Lin Wanbai felt it unnecessary—a man needing parental supervision wasn’t what she wanted.
Under the table, she gently kicked her mother’s foot, hinting for her to say less.
Lin Jingyu complied, switching topics to his company. Soon, the vegetarian dishes arrived and conversation ceased as they ate.
That night, back at the hotel, Lin Jingyu changed rooms, leaving the suite for the young couple.
Lin Wanbai didn’t say much, lest her mother overthink, pulling Fu Juxing into their room.
“I just came to see you; I’ll leave in a day or two,” Fu Juxing said.
“Mm.” She found pajamas and prepared for a shower. After a day out, she was tired, her legs sore, wanting nothing but a bath and sleep.
She entered the bathroom.
Fu Juxing tidied up the mess she’d made—bags, phone, suitcase.
Lin Wanbai truly was exhausted. She meant to soak in the tub, but when she finished and stepped out, her feet slipped. With her legs weak, she had no chance to save herself and fell hard.
The pain at her tailbone brought tears to her eyes.
She could barely speak from the pain. She tried to get up, but couldn’t move.
She stared at the door, hesitated, then shouted, “Fu Juxing!”
Unfortunately, she’d locked the door and he couldn’t enter.
“What’s wrong?” His voice through the door had the power to calm.
“I fell.”
She was frustrated.
After a moment, Fu Juxing unlocked the door with a key, rushed in, pulled down a towel to cover her, and carried her out.
She was docile, clutching his shirt, her face pale with pain.
Fu Juxing placed her on the bed, “Should we go to the hospital?”
“Wait.” She didn’t think it was necessary.
The pain couldn’t be transferred; Fu Juxing took her hand, gently rubbing the back of it, “Does it hurt badly?”
Her eyes reddened. It must have hurt a lot.
She couldn’t tolerate pain at all.
He dared not hold her rashly, fearing she’d object, so he squatted by the bed, holding her hand.
After a while, the pain eased a bit. She looked at him, “Sing me a song.”
“I can’t.”
“Sing the national anthem, at least you know that.”
Fu Juxing smiled helplessly. After a moment, he complied—not with the anthem, nor a love song, but something sweeter, “There’s no one like Xiao Bai in the world…”
Hearing the lyrics, Lin Wanbai burst out laughing.
Fu Juxing wasn’t bothered, continuing, singing slowly and clearly.
Halfway through, Lin Wanbai couldn’t take it anymore, covering his mouth, “Stop, it’s awful.”
He didn’t resist, letting her cover his mouth.
His lips touched her palm, tickling slightly.
The atmosphere suddenly changed in an instant.
Lin Wanbai quickly withdrew her hand.
Fu Juxing showed no reaction, only asking, “Still hurting?”
“A bit better.” She turned away. Because of her sudden movement, the towel slipped, exposing much of her skin.
But Fu Juxing wasn’t an ordinary man; he resisted.
He poured water and brought her clothes.
“It’s best to walk around; if you feel anything wrong, we’ll go to the hospital.” He handed her the clothes, “Change first.”
Lin Wanbai drank some warm water, took her clothes, and Fu Juxing took the cup away, turning his back.
Lin Wanbai glanced at him, removed the towel, and dressed.
She walked around twice—slightly uncomfortable, but not seriously hurt.
…
While Zhou Quan was writing her third lengthy post, she was taken from her home.
When she awoke, she found herself lying on a board, two masked men standing nearby.
She jerked, but aside from her legs, her body and hands were tightly bound.
“Who are you? What do you want?!”
They said nothing, their dark eyes staring intently.
As she struggled, one suddenly grabbed her ankle.
One of the men spoke coldly, “Heard you’re a dancer.”
Zhou Quan was terrified, swallowing hard, “Don’t expect me to yield. If you really assault me, I’ll make sure Lin Wanbai’s reputation is ruined!”
She trembled, but her tone was tough.
The man sneered, holding a surgical knife that gleamed, “For a dancer, the most important thing is perfect legs. If these legs are ruined, isn’t her career finished?”
Zhou Quan struggled again, but the man’s hands were like iron clamps—she couldn’t move.
“I’ll give you ten minutes to decide: either shut your mouth or keep spreading rumors online. But rumor-mongering comes at a price, and Lin Wanbai isn’t someone you can slander at will. If the price is your legs, that’s not too much, is it?”
Zhou Quan gritted her teeth, “So you’re sent by Lin Wanbai, trying to silence me this way?”
“No.”
She laughed bitterly, “Fine, then take my legs if you dare. Now that everyone’s watching me online, I’d like to see if, once I lose my legs, the netizens will spare Lin Wanbai!”
“There is justice in this world! There are laws! She thinks money and power let her do anything?!”
The men didn’t interrupt, letting her vent.
Ten minutes passed; one knocked on the board, “Tell me your choice.”
In the end, Zhou Quan chose to keep quiet. A wise person doesn’t suffer in vain—self-preservation came first.
“Hope you keep your word. If I find you spreading rumors again, next time there won’t be ten minutes for you to consider. When you wake, you’ll have nothing.”
Zhou Quan pursed her lips and said nothing. They kept their promise and released her.
When she awoke again, she was home.
Her first impulse was to go to the police, but stepping outside, she stopped, realizing those people must be watching. Going to the police now would surely be discovered.
She retreated, went to her study, where her computer was still on and her third article unfinished.
She hesitated, saved the file but didn’t post it.
This matter needed careful planning.
However, time didn’t allow for careful planning.
After a week of silence, Zhou Quan was in a car accident, losing both legs.
…
Just as Lin Wanbai and her party finished touring the Four Great Sacred Mountains and were returning.
At the airport, they were surrounded by reporters.
Three rapid-fire questions:
“Miss Lin, we heard you just returned from praying. Is it because you feel guilty and fear retribution, so you sought the Bodhisattva’s forgiveness?”
“Miss Lin, Zhou Quan was in a car accident and her legs are permanently disabled—she’ll never perform again. Did you know about this while praying?”
A female reporter sneered, “Miss Lin, did you go to pray or use it as a cover to harm others? Doing bad things before the Bodhisattva—be careful or you might get your own retribution.”
Suddenly, everyone crowded forward, throwing sharp questions, mocking and insinuating. Lin Jingyu was so angry she almost lost her temper.
Luckily, Lin Zhouye arrived in time, and several bodyguards forcibly parted the reporters, escorting Lin Wanbai and Lin Jingyu to their car.
The doors closed, shutting out the chaos, bringing peace.
Lin Jingyu muttered angrily, “Are all these reporters crazy?”
Lin Wanbai: “What’s going on?”
Lin Zhouye still wore a gentle smile, “That woman caused her own accident and blamed you. She reported to the police, claiming you plotted against her, that you arranged the accident. She even contacted major media, played the victim, hoping for their help.”
“You know, there are always ‘righteous’ people who see the wealthy as filthy. She found the right crowd, and now it’s a mess. This, I suppose, is thanks to your husband.”
“What does that mean?” Lin Jingyu asked.
“This was originally handled by Fu Juxing. I didn’t expect it to backfire on him.”
Lin Wanbai: “Don’t draw conclusions before everything’s clear.”
Lin Zhouye nodded, “Yes, I’m just saying. If it’s not his fault, my words won’t make it so, right?”
Lin Wanbai didn’t argue further, avoiding conflict.
After a tiring journey, Lin Wanbai was exhausted.
She didn’t care much about public opinion—good news rarely spreads, bad news travels fast. If enough people say something, those who don’t know the truth will believe it.
Most ordinary people live hard lives and harbor some resentment of the rich. The media capitalizes on this, blowing things up.
Of course, someone might be manipulating things behind the scenes, causing the situation to deteriorate rapidly.
This incident could affect business interests.
When the car stopped at traffic lights, Lin Wanbai said, “Go to the police station.”
Lin Zhouye looked back.
Lin Jingyu was unhappy, “Why go? Don’t worry about it—your father, grandfather, and Zhouye will help you.”
“Didn’t the police contact me? Since I’m a suspect, I should cooperate and clear things up. Once it’s resolved, I’ll make sure those who spread rumors pay the price.”
Lin Zhouye’s lips curled slightly.
Lin Jingyu said, “You don’t need to rush—tomorrow’s fine.”
Lin Zhouye, “Big Sister’s right.”
“Strike while the iron’s hot; those reporters are following—let them report live.”
Lin Jingyu held Lin Wanbai’s hand, full of love, “Such misfortune—how did you meet such a lunatic?”
Then Lin Zhouye told the driver to change route and head to the police station.
Lin Wanbai spent nearly two hours there, cooperating, giving a statement, even handing over her phone and granting full access to her call logs and messages.
She had nothing to hide and welcomed a thorough investigation.
She hoped they’d uncover who was behind it. She wanted to see who was so intent on destroying her reputation.
Returning home, Fu Juxing happened to be coming out of her grandfather’s study.
They met in the hallway. Lin Wanbai was tired, wanting only to sleep, not even greeting him.
Lin Jingyu, mindful of Zhouye’s words, stormed over, voice lowered, “How could you be so careless, failing to handle such a small matter?”
“Now Xiao Bai is suffering so much abuse online—they’re saying terrible things. Back then, did Yao Yao’s death have anything to do with her? Not at all. That Zhou woman should have her head examined. Who could have predicted the cruise accident? It’s unfair to blame anyone.”
Fu Juxing listened patiently and quietly to her complaints.
Lin Jingyu only said a few more words, then calmed herself, sighed, “You must realize what Xiao Bai means to you. You must protect her. If you can’t, no matter how much she likes you, I won’t let you stay together.”
“I understand.”
Seeing his demeanor, Lin Jingyu was displeased and went back to her room.
Lin Zhouye leaned against the staircase, watching him with a half-smile, silent.
Fu Juxing looked up, met his gaze, then smiled faintly in greeting.
“Uncle, anything you want to say?”
Lin Zhouye shook his head, gesturing for him to go ahead.
Fu Juxing returned to his room.
Lin Wanbai was showering, her belongings scattered everywhere. He picked up her bag and phone, moved the suitcase aside.
An hour later, Lin Wanbai emerged.
Her skin was rosy, hair wrapped in a towel, wearing cartoon pajamas, looking quite cute.
She glanced at him, went to the vanity, grabbed a random mask and applied it, rubbing the excess essence on her hands and neck, “I went to the police station and learned the gist of Zhou Quan’s report. She said a week before the accident, she was kidnapped; the kidnappers threatened her not to spread rumors online or they’d cut off her legs. Was that you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Lin Zhouye said you handled it.”
He gave a wry smile, “Was that wrong?”
“Not exactly, but the subsequent accident was awfully coincidental. Who knew about your actions? Did anyone in the Fu family know?”
Her logic was clear, “Zhou Quan was just a third-rate dancer, with barely a few thousand followers before all this. I don’t believe a person like that could write one post and garner so much attention, causing her account to explode overnight.”
“I may be a stay-at-home parasite, but I’m not an idiot. I believe you see what I see. Is this about me, or about you using me as a pretext? It’s obvious. Grandpa entrusted you, surely for a reason—right?”
Lin Wanbai finished, the essence absorbed, and she moved to the bed, lying down, “I’m exhausted and a bit hungry.”
“I told the servants to bring food soon.”
“Okay.” She sprawled out, closed her eyes, saying nothing more.
Soon, she relaxed, breathing steadily, seemingly asleep.
Fu Juxing checked the time, approached, kneeling by her legs, resting one hand by her cheek, leaning over to remove her mask.
She was truly asleep, head turned slightly, completely relaxed and defenseless.
Her skin was smooth and fair, glowing after the mask. Fu Juxing didn’t move away, his gaze lingering on her face, lost in thought.
As his fingers nearly touched her cheek, the door suddenly opened; Lin Jingyu entered.
He instinctively withdrew, about to get off the bed, but Lin Wanbai stirred, curling up and grabbing his thigh, hugging it tightly.
Lin Jingyu blushed at the sight, said nothing, and swiftly left.
Fu Juxing tried to move, but Lin Wanbai held on tightly, impossible to break free unless she let go.
He bent over, lightly tapped her cheek, softly called her name, “Xiao Bai.”
She didn’t respond.
Climbing the great Buddha requires hiking, and after days of travel and hotel changes, she’d slept poorly and eaten little. Her body was at its limit, and now asleep, she wouldn’t wake easily—not even with noise.
Lin Wanbai dreamed she was hugging the Buddha’s thigh, ecstatic, with dancing fairies and a banquet spread before her, making her mouth water.
Then a grand dish was brought up, several people carrying it. Curious, she released the Buddha’s thigh and peeked—only to see Fu Juxing, adorned with a bow, lying on the plate.
Someone whispered in her ear, “Want to eat?”
She nodded, licking her lips, “Yes.”
Then the scene changed entirely.
…
When Lin Wanbai awoke from her dream, she realized she was hugging Fu Juxing’s thigh and had drooled all over him.
Seeing his face, she paused, then quickly sat up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
It was already nine o’clock; night had fallen, and her stomach growled.
Fu Juxing’s leg was half numb, still in the same position.
They stared at each other, as if time froze, neither moving or speaking—the atmosphere oddly tense.
Lin Wanbai’s mind lingered on the dream’s spicy, suggestive scenes, making her feel hot and restless.
She sat on the bed, staring at his thigh in a daze, swallowing.
After a while, she regained herself, looked up, “Why didn’t you move?”
“My leg’s numb.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t want to disturb your good dream.”
Her heart skipped a beat, eyebrows furrowing—his words held deeper meaning. “What do you mean?”
He suddenly smiled, brilliantly, dazzling her. Her brows tightened, “Why are you laughing?”
He shook his head, saying nothing.
Her heart raced, feeling hot, so she didn’t linger, quickly getting up to wash her face.
When she returned, Fu Juxing had risen.
He stood by the bed, “Should I bring food up, or shall we go together?”
“Together.” Lin Wanbai rubbed her cheeks and left with him, “Did I talk in my sleep?”
“No.” He denied it, but his smile seemed insincere.
“What did I say?” When exhausted, she tended to talk in her sleep—even holding conversations.
Liang Zhixia once shared a bed with her, awakened by Lin Wanbai’s dream talk, tried conversing, and succeeded.
Crucially, her answers were spot-on.
“Really, nothing.”
Lin Wanbai frowned, doubting him.
At this hour, the servants were in their rooms.
The living room was empty; they went to the kitchen, where a meal awaited. But Lin Wanbai wasn’t interested in food—she clung to his side, following wherever he went.
Fu Juxing asked, “What do you want to eat?”
She didn’t reply, just looked up, her eyes shining with spring water.