After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Xiao Jingyuan suddenly opened his eyes.

Above them were dark curtains over the sleeping quarters, and outside the window, the first light of dawn broke, while the iron eaves jingled in the morning breeze.

He lay there with his eyes open for a long time, the rapid breathing from his dream still lingering in his chest. Only when his fingertips touched the cool brocade beneath him did he slowly sit up.

The bedchamber was empty, with only his presence left on the large dragon bed. He looked down and saw that his underpants were soaked and clung stickily to his legs, while the bedding beneath him was crumpled into a ball.

Xiao Jingyuan froze for a long time before belatedly realizing that it was all a dream.

A terrifyingly real dream about a past life.

Every detail in the dream was terrifyingly clear—the white mist rising from the flour as he kneaded the dough, the delicate handwriting on Pei Yuning's note, the biting cold of the night wind as he squatted on the roof, and Xie Qinglan.

He remembered the red marks he had left on Xie Qinglan's neck, remembered how the man buried his face deep in the pillow, his muffled groans broken into fragments, and remembered the lingering crimson at the corner of the man's eye when he was finally kicked off the bed, more vibrant than the most beautiful crabapple blossoms outside the palace.

Xiao Jingyuan raised his hand to cover half of his face, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

He suddenly felt a pang of jealousy towards his past self, that scoundrel.

Although Xie Qinglan always resisted him and always turned her back to him with a cold face, he never really resisted fiercely.

He wanted to do it, so Xie Qinglan let him—she told him to get lost, but her body was weak; her face was cold, but her ears were red; when she was furious, she would only curse him a few times and kick him off the bed.

and many more.

Xiao Jingyuan removed his hand from his face and slowly sat up straight. A crack suddenly appeared in a corner of his mind that had been ignored for two lifetimes, letting in a ray of light that made his heart pound.

He carefully recalled the details of the dream, which perfectly overlapped with his memories of his past life.

That day, he was so jealous that he went crazy. In the middle of the night, he sneaked into Lan Yue Pavilion, wanting to steal a hug. However, he was caught red-handed rubbing against Xie Qinglan because of his blood rushing to his head. In the end, he gave up and half-coaxed and half-forced Xie Qinglan to have him.

Xie Qinglan cursed at him, chased him away, and struggled in his arms. But she only struggled a few times before giving up. The man turned his back to her, buried his face in the pillow, and let her do whatever she wanted, without using any internal energy from beginning to end.

In the end, he only gave him a light kick—with Xie Qinglan's martial arts skills, if he had truly intended to kill, that kick would have sent him flying at least three zhang (approximately 10 meters), crashing through the window and tumbling into the courtyard. But he didn't. He simply kicked him off the bed, leaving not even a bruise.

Last night was the same. Xie Qinglan had just finished bathing, wearing a moon-white bathrobe, his long hair still dripping wet, making him look like a cold jade shrouded in mist. He used the excuse of drying his hair to get close to him, touching and rubbing against him. The other person coldly cursed him as a "lecher," but did not dodge.

Later, he pressed the person down onto the dressing table and kissed them, his hand reaching inside their bathrobe. The person blushed and pushed him away, saying, "Get out." But before leaving, the person let him touch them all over for a long time.

From beginning to end, the Guilan Sword was placed on the windowsill, within easy reach.

Xie Qinglan never truly used all her strength to resist him.

This thought struck him like a thunderbolt, shattering the chaos that had plagued his mind for two lifetimes.

Someone like Xie Qinglan, who could manipulate the seven princes at the age of sixteen and whose swordsmanship had already impressed the Southern Mountain Sword Saint at nineteen, would she really have allowed him to climb through the window, kiss and hug her, and even tolerate him going to the final step again and again if she truly hated him to the extreme? She would probably have been nailed to the courtyard wall the first time she climbed through the window.

Could it be that... Xie Qinglan doesn't actually hate him as much as he thinks?

Xiao Jingyuan's heart skipped a beat, then pounded wildly, almost shattering his ribs. He abruptly threw off the brocade quilt and got out of bed, stepping barefoot onto the cold gold bricks, pacing back and forth in the hall in a daze.

A morning breeze blew in through the cracks in the window, making him a little more awake, but the surging heat in his heart only grew stronger. He stopped and looked out the window toward Tingxue Pavilion, his eyes burning brightly.

But the next second, the light went out suddenly, like a candle flame blown out by the wind.

wrong.

If those half-hearted acquiescences weren't hatred, then what was the final suicide?

He remembered that last letter clearly—"Unable to bear the humiliation, the only option is death." Using death to get rid of him, this clearly showed that she hated him to the extreme.

Xiao Jingyuan slowly sat back on the edge of the bed, supporting himself on his knees with his hands and lowering his head.

Were all his speculations just wishful thinking? Xie Qinglan tolerated him only because she was afraid he would take his anger out on Nan Yue and hurt Pei Yuning?

His mind was in complete turmoil. One moment it was the crimson at the corners of Xie Qinglan's eyes in his dream, the next it was his cold corpse from his past life; then it was Xie Qinglan's reddened ears from last night, and then it was that final letter, every word of which was filled with tears of blood.

Hope and despair were like two venomous snakes, tearing wildly at his chest, almost ripping him apart.

He dared not think about it, much less ask. He could only throw himself into the training ground, using the excruciating pain of the blows to numb his nerves, but amidst the flashing blades, Xie Qinglan's shadow was everywhere.

Xie Qinglan had been waiting in Tingxuexuan for three whole days.

That night, Xiao Jingyuan pinned him down on the dressing table and kissed him so hard he could hardly breathe. Xiao Jingyuan's hand slipped inside his bathrobe and groped him. He was so ashamed that he pushed him away.

He thought Xiao Jingyuan would shamelessly come over to apologize the next day—after all, that's how he always is. Every time he offends Xiao Jingyuan, he'll act pitiful and adorable, squatting in the corner and staring at him longingly until Xiao Jingyuan softens.

But he waited for one day, two days, three days, and Xiao Jingyuan didn't show up at all.

His complexion grew worse each day.

On the afternoon of the third day, Xie Qinglan sat by the stone table, holding the jade pendant engraved with the character "Lan" in her hand, idly stroking it with her fingertips.

The sun was shining brightly, causing the crabapple petals to wilt slightly. He sat in the shade of a tree, his moon-white brocade robe spotless, his face still displaying that calm and indifferent expression. However, the way he repeatedly rubbed the engraved mark on the jade surface with his fingertips was somewhat forceful—so forceful that his knuckles turned slightly white.

Gao An came to deliver lunch, carefully placing four small dishes and a bowl of congee on the stone table. He glanced at Xie Qinglan's expression and didn't dare to breathe loudly.

Xie Qinglan took a few sips, then put down his chopsticks, picked up his teacup, and found the tea had gone cold again. He stared at the slightly cloudy tea in the cup for a moment, then suddenly spoke: "Gao An."

"Your servant is here!" Gao An jumped in surprise.

"Has Your Majesty been very busy these past few days?" The tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

Gao An's heart skipped a beat, and he cautiously replied, "No... His Majesty has recently become obsessed with sword practice, and Ling Feng has suffered terribly."

He paused, then tentatively asked, "Have you and His Majesty had another falling out?"

"What conflict could I possibly have with His Majesty?"

Xie Qinglan sneered inwardly. So what if he was kicked out? Why hasn't he come back for days? That night, Xiao Jingyuan was the one who made a move on him first. He only said "get out," and the man really left.

Suddenly, he noticed a very slight movement.

Ha, she was quite bold that night when she was rubbing against him and kissing him all over, but now that she's been chased away, she's hiding in the shadows and doesn't dare to show her face.

He put down his teacup, his tone indifferent: "You can leave now. I'll be alone for a while."

Gao An felt as if he had been granted a pardon and quickly bowed and withdrew.

Xie Qinglan put down his teacup and stood up. He walked to the center of the courtyard, took the Guilan Sword from the sword rack, and drew it from its sheath. The sword light drew a clear arc in the afternoon sunlight, and the crabapple trees were shaken by the sword's aura, causing the petals to flutter down.

His swordplay carried a sharper killing intent than usual, each strike seemingly aimed at severing something invisible. The sound of the sword cutting through the air grew increasingly rapid, petals were swept up by the sword energy, fluttering around his moon-white robes, only to be shredded before they could reach his shoulders.

Suddenly, he changed his sword stance, stopped abruptly, plucked a crabapple branch with his left hand, and threw it with a backhand.

The flower branch shot through the air with a sharp whistling sound, its petals torn off by the wind, leaving a trail of fine pink streaks in the air, shooting straight towards the inconspicuous shadow high on the courtyard wall.

A hand with distinct knuckles extended from the top of the wall, its index and middle fingers precisely gripping the stem of a flower branch. The movement was swift and steady, as if it were already accustomed to being attacked so suddenly.

Xie Qinglan sheathed his Guilan sword, stood with his hands behind his back amidst the falling petals, and asked in a calm tone, "Why is Your Majesty squatting on the wall peeking again?"