Capítulo 3: Chapter 2: Dreaming Back

Boom, boom... Lightning seemed to tear through the thick black curtain above, restoring clarity to the world.

Under this lightning and thunder, an ancient tree within Lian Mansion was struck directly by the roaring thunder, splitting in two with a snapping noise, and fell amidst the rainwater.

Not far from this ancient tree was the courtyard of Third Young Lady Yueyao of the Lian Mansion. The sounds of lightning and thunder had not awoken her, but the noise of the ancient tree falling did awaken her. The moment the ancient tree fell, Third Young Lady opened her eyes.

After Yueyao woke up, looking at the light blue fabric of the canopy above her, she dazedly said, "Where am I?" As soon as she finished speaking, peals of thunder echoed in Yueyao's ears, followed by flashes of white light flickering in the room.

Jolted by the thunder, Yueyao sat up, her mind a mess. Where was this? Hadn't she died? The sharp dagger had already pierced through her body; how could she still be alive? And, furthermore, in a place, in a place...

At the moment, she was sitting on a yellow rosewood step bed; next to the bed was a yellow rosewood dressing table adorned with various plain-colored Pearl Hairpins. Along the side was a large yellow rosewood wardrobe, and by the window was a soft couch, blocking the black-and-white ink-painted screen that connected the inner room and the concubine's room...

Yueyao widened her eyes, this was not, this was not the room where she had just returned to when she came back to the Lian family, the courtyard she had just been in was the one her father had lived in years ago. She had moved out afterward. But now, how could it be possible, how could she possibly be here?

Yueyao murmured,"It must be a dream, surely. The heavens have let me return to the courtyard of that day, to take one last look before I leave."

While Yueyao was examining the room, footsteps sounded from the outer room. Quickly, a maid with an oval face, dressed in a plain green garment, walked in.

The maid reached the center of the room and lit the lamp. The room suddenly brightened. The maid, seeing Yueyao sitting up, confused, asked worriedly, "Young Lady, what's wrong with you? Were you having a nightmare?"

Yueyao, staring blankly at this familiar face, muttered, "It's definitely a dream. Otherwise, how could I see Mu Qiu?" Mu Qiu had been bought by her mother as a playmate when she was five, always loyally following her, staying by her side for more than ten years until right before her severe illness. Mu Qiu had been ordered to be beaten to death by the Lady family over an unfounded accusation. Yueyao had watched as Mu Qiu was beaten to death right before her eyes, her fresh blood staining Yueyao's vision red. She had never expected not only to return to the old place but also to meet an old friend.

Seeing her lady's bewildered appearance, as if she had lost her soul, Mu Qiu said worriedly, "Young Lady, don't be afraid. It was just a nightmare!"

Yueyao moved slightly.

Mu Qiu thought Yueyao was about to do something when she moved, but after moving slightly, Yueyao continued just to stare at her blankly, without any other actions.

Mu Qiu, somewhat worried, took her hand to Yueyao's forehead to wipe it, and then compared it to her own forehead, muttering in a relieved tone that there was no fever, "Young Lady, what's wrong with you?"

Yueyao, feeling Mu Qiu's question, no, she remembered hearing at the Nunnery that ghosts had no temperature. Mu Qiu's hands were warm; why could she feel the warmth of Mu Qiu's body? Impossible, could it be that the rumors were wrong, that ghosts do have temperature?

Yueyao grabbed Mu Qiu's hand—it was warm, really warm. Yueyao panicked, "Mu Qiu, bring me a mirror. Quickly, get a mirror for me to look at."

Mu Qiu was a simple-minded maid, doing whatever Yueyao asked without wondering why. Hearing Yueyao's command, she immediately brought over a bronze mirror.

Yueyao looked into the bronze mirror. Reflected in the mirror was a young girl, with dark, lifeless eyes and a small oval face no bigger than a palm, pale and weak.

Yueyao touched her own face; she had disfigured herself when she was sixteen. There were long, deep scars on both cheeks. But now, her cheeks were smooth and fair, with no scars in sight.

Looking at the familiar yet strange face, Yueyao couldn't help asking, "How old am I this year?"

Mu Qiu, thinking her young lady had suddenly lost her soul, responded, "Young Lady, you are eight years old this year."

Yueyao murmured, "So I'm eight years old! Yueyao felt she was dreaming, how could she dream of returning to when she was eight years old, of going back more than twenty years ago? Was this a dream? No, Mu Qiu was warm, not cold."

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