With legs weak, the sickly stable boy became a mad regent.

Shen Nannan hadn't dreamed of Xiao Yunzhao for a long time.

So long that she thought those memories of her past life had been buried deep in her bones and would never resurface.

It went on for so long that she thought she could really be the arrogant and domineering eldest daughter of the Shen family, instead of the captive who had been imprisoned in the Prince's mansion for three years.

So long that sometimes she even doubted whether those things had really happened, or if it was just a long dream.

In the period immediately following her rebirth, she dreamed of him almost every night.

In her dreams, he always looked the same—a black python robe, with bewitching eyes and eyebrows, looking down at her as if she were a bird trapped in a cage.

Sometimes it was on the tatami mat, where he would grab her waist and torment her relentlessly, even when she cried and begged for mercy.

Sometimes it was in the study, where he would be annotating documents and she would be kneeling beside him grinding ink. Suddenly, he would reach out and pinch her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and ask her, "Darling, do you hate me?"

She hated it. She really hated it back then.

But now, she hasn't dreamed of him in a long time.

The longer I spend with Ah Chao, the more blurred those memories of my past life become.

Like ink soaked in water, it gradually spreads, fades, and dissipates.

She even began to feel that the regent who tormented her to death in her past life and the boy who squatted on the veranda feeding rabbits and would only respond with a sullen "oh" when she scolded him were not the same person.

But tonight, he... came again.

In her dreams, he used to be alive, moving, laughing, and pressing her down on the bed.

In my dream tonight, he was "dead"...

It was the same familiar bedchamber, with dark black bed curtains hanging tightly.

The candle on the table had burned down to its last flame, leaving a thick layer of wax dripping down, and the flame flickered precariously, as if it might go out at any moment.

A person was kneeling in the center of the sleeping quarters.

He was wearing a black python robe, his hair was loose and he wasn't wearing a crown. He was kneeling on the ground, holding someone tightly in his arms, as if afraid of being taken away.

His shoulders were trembling, and he looked as if he had been crushed by something. He was hunched over, his head was down, and his face was not visible.

Shen Nannan slowly walked over, wanting to call out to him.

"Ah... Ah Zhao."

The fingers pierced right through his body.

And she also saw clearly what he was holding in his arms...

she was.

Her own... corpse.

She saw... she was lying in his arms, pale, her lips were purple, her eyes were closed, as if she were asleep.

But her chest didn't rise and fall, and there was no white mist from her breath—the body was lifeless.

Xiao Yunzhao lowered his head and looked at her, just staring at her.

He didn't speak, didn't move, and didn't even blink.

He knelt there like a stone statue, holding her, motionless.

Shen Nannan looked at him, and suddenly felt as if something had squeezed her heart tightly.

She had never seen him like this before.

In his past life, Xiao Yunzhao was always aloof, cold, and unpredictable.

He can kill someone with a smile, or he can coldly pin her down on the bed and torment her all night.

He never bowed his head, never yielded, and never let anyone see his weakness.

But now, he knelt on the ground, holding her corpse, like a dog abandoned by its owner.

"My little girl."

He finally spoke, his voice hoarse beyond belief, as if forced out from his throat, dry and broken.

"How dare you die?"

No one answered him.

The woman in his arms couldn't speak, couldn't move, and wouldn't shrink back in fear when he looked over.

His fingers trembled as they slid down her face, tracing her eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips, finally stopping at her chin, where he gently pinched it, as he always had, wanting her to look up at him.

But she won't look up anymore.

He held her even tighter, so tight that his stiff body creaked. But he didn't let go; instead, he buried his face deeper, lying on top of her like a trapped beast whose strength had been drained.

"My dear girl... open your eyes and look at me..."

"I'm not going to torment you anymore... I'm not going to lock you up anymore... Open your eyes and look..."

no respond.

The body in my arms grew colder and colder, as cold as ice.

He pulled her closer to him, futilely trying to warm her with his body heat.

"Aren't you most afraid of the cold?" His voice lowered, as if it were being squeezed out of his chest.

"I'll keep you warm, please wake up..."

He lowered his head, forehead to forehead, and closed his eyes.

"You're all I have left..."

"My dear...you're all I have left."

His tears fell.

One drop, two drops, landed on the back of her pale hand, on that already cold skin.

Shen Nannan had never seen Xiao Yunzhao cry.

In her past life, she was imprisoned by him for three years, and she never saw him shed a single tear.

He would kill when he was angry, reward people when he was happy, and torture her to death when he was sad.

But he never cried.

He cried like a child, holding her body, burying his face in her cold neck, letting out suppressed, broken sobs.

"A Zhao..."

She called his name, but he couldn't hear her.

The candlelight flickered and shone on his face.

That face was still so alluring, with deep-set eyes and a high nose, but those eyes had changed.

What used to burn in those eyes was obsession, madness, and possessiveness.

But now, there's nothing left in those eyes.

empty.

Like two dry wells, parched and lifeless, unable to even shed a tear.

He held her body, slowly stood up, and placed her on the couch, his movements so gentle it was as if he were afraid of breaking her.

He covered her with the blanket, put her hands in place, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Then he sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand, and just sat there, motionless.

Shen Nannan stood behind him, looking at his straight back, at the fingers that were holding her hand, and at the strand of white hair at his temple.

She hadn't noticed his gray hair before. He was only in his twenties, and he already had gray hair.

"Ah Zhao," she called again, but still didn't hear her.

She walked around to face him, squatted down, and looked up at his face.

His face was covered in tears, his eyes were red, his lips were chapped, and he had a bluish stubble on his chin.

He didn't look like a powerful regent; he looked like a lonely madman abandoned by the whole world.

He suddenly looked up at the pale face in his arms, reached out, and gently touched her cheek.

"Don't worry." His voice suddenly became calm, so calm that it didn't sound like someone who had just cried. "I will not let any of those who harmed you go unpunished."

His fingers slid down her face, took her hand, and their fingers intertwined.

"Wake up when you see them die one by one in front of you." He paused.

"It's fine if you don't wake up... I'll go down and keep you company."

"Wait for me... don't walk too fast."

Shen Nannan felt as if her heart was being squeezed, the pain making it hard for her to breathe.

"Don't come!" she cried.

"Don't die! Live! Live well!"

He couldn't hear her. He lowered his head and placed a kiss on her cold forehead.

His lips were pressed against her skin for a very long time.

"Nannan," he whispered her name, "Wait for me."

Shen Nannan suddenly opened her eyes.

What came into view was her familiar boudoir.

Her face was covered in tears, and her pillow was soaked and felt cool.

A dream. It was just a dream again.

But this dream felt so real.

The way Xiao Yunzhao knelt in the bedchamber, the words he spoke, his voice, his expression—his heart was empty; nothing was left.

She sat up, and the blanket slipped off her shoulders.

It was chilly, and she shivered. The moment her feet touched the ground, the icy sensation shot up from the soles of her feet. Without bothering to find her shoes, she ran barefoot towards the door.

When the door was pushed open, a cool night breeze blew in.

Under the eaves, A-Chao was sitting against a pillar, one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.

He wasn't asleep yet. He took off his mask and placed it aside. The moonlight fell on his face, illuminating his alluring features with a cold and clear light.

Hearing the noise, he turned around.

Before he could even see clearly, a figure rushed into his arms.