Nightmare

FENG'ER

— ✦ —

 I stood at the mouth of a cave, its jagged entrance yawning open like the maw of a beast. Cold wind howled around me, whipping my hair against my cheeks. I didn't know how I'd gotten there—only that the mountain beneath my feet was steep, the ground cracked and broken, and the sky above burned with an eerie red glow.

Everything around me pulsed with dread.

The cave behind me felt like a memory I couldn't grasp. And ahead of me, lined in a semicircle at the edge of the summit, stood twelve figures—men and women robed in colors I couldn't name, their faces obscured by shadows, their auras crushing.

They said nothing. They didn't even introduce themselves.

They just… attacked.

One moment, I stood frozen. The next, they rushed me in perfect synchrony.

Swords flashed.

A gust of wind like a blade sliced past my ear. I ducked instinctively. Fire bloomed to my left. Ice to my right. A talisman exploded at my feet, knocking me back.

I didn't understand—who were these people? Why were they attacking me?

I shouted, "Who are you?!"

But no one answered.

A huge man emerged from the back of the group—twice as wide as the others, with a glinting axe slung across his shoulders. His eyes burned like coals as he raised the weapon above his head.

The blade was massive—black steel, cruel and chipped at the edges like it had tasted too much blood.

He lunged.

The axe swung downward, right toward my skull.

I jolted awake with a gasp.

My chest rose and fell in erratic bursts, sweat clinging to my skin. I was no longer on the mountaintop. There was no cave, no axe, no fire.

Just the quiet stillness of the cabin.

The fire had died to embers. Shadows danced softly on the walls. I turned my head and saw him—Gege—asleep on the floor, wrapped in his thin blanket.

His breathing was slow, even.

Peaceful.

I sat up quietly and moved to the floor beside him. My limbs still trembled.

What was that dream? A memory? A nightmare?

The fear still lingered in my chest like cold smoke. I turned my gaze back to Gege, hoping the sight of his face would help.

It did.

Even in sleep, he looked beautiful. Calm. As if nothing in the world could disturb him.

I leaned closer, needing to see him clearly—his long lashes, his smooth brow, the soft curve of his lips. My heart slowly steadied in my chest.

He's here. Gege is here. I'm safe.

I reached out without thinking, brushing a strand of hair from his cheek.

My fingers lingered.

His skin was warm beneath my touch, softer than I expected. I let my hand rest there for a breath longer than I should have.

I didn't know what this feeling was. Only that when I looked at him, the shadows retreated.

 ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

LUO FAN

— ✦ —

 In the middle of the night, I was roused from sleep by something warm brushing against my face. My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself staring directly into the wide, curious eyes of Lan Feng. He was lying on the floor beside me, his elbow propped up on one side of my head, his other hand gently stroking my cheek. The expression on his face was one of awe, as if he'd discovered something extraordinary.

For a moment, my heart raced. The intimate closeness, his gaze, and his actions brought an unsettling thought to mind. Could Ruan Yanjun have returned, ready to tease me with one of his cruel games?

But when I saw the innocent spark in his eyes that Ruan Yanjun could never replicate, I exhaled in relief.

"Feng'er," I said, my voice low but firm, "what are you doing?"

"Watching Gege," he replied simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

I blinked at him, startled by his nonchalance. He showed no awareness of how inappropriate his actions were, and yet, how could I truly be angry? In his mind, he was still a child—a boy seeking comfort.

"Why are you watching me?" I asked, keeping my tone calm.

"Because Gege is beautiful," he said, his voice soft but sincere.

I grimaced inwardly, unsure how to feel about his words. Whenever he said things like that, I couldn't decide whether he was still a child or a budding troublemaker.

"Go back to bed," I said, trying to sound more authoritative.

"Don't want to," he replied stubbornly.

"Why not?"

"Can't sleep."

I sighed, already suspecting the answer. "Did you have nightmares again?"

He nodded, his expression turning somber. "I saw many ugly faces—bloody and with no skin. It was horrifying. So I'm watching Gege's face to forget."

His words left me momentarily speechless. Though his reasoning was odd, it carried a logic that was uniquely his. The nightmares he described were grotesque and disturbing, far too vivid for someone his age—or at least, the age he believed himself to be.

"Do you always have those nightmares?" I asked.

"Every time I sleep," he admitted quietly.

So that explained his struggle to stay awake, his reluctance to rest. He was seeking solace the only way he knew how, and somehow, my presence had become his anchor.

"What could have caused such nightmares?" I murmured aloud, more to myself than to him. Then, looking at him, I asked, "Have you ever seen someone killed?"

"Humans, no," he said after a pause. "But I once saw my uncle kill a dog. He sliced it into pieces and ate it."

I cringed at his bluntness. "Raw?"

"No," he replied, his voice calm. "My aunt cooked it first."

Relief washed over me, though the thought still unsettled me. At least his family's oddities hadn't extended to eating raw meat.

"Alright," I said, pulling the long pillow from under my head and pushing it toward him. "Lie down properly and sleep."

His face lit up with a smile. "It's alright for Gege if I sleep beside him?"

"For now," I said, nodding.

Without hesitation, he lay down, resting his head on the pillow beside mine. I pulled the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. When I glanced at him again, I noticed he was still staring at me, his gaze unwavering.

"Close your eyes," I instructed gently.

Obediently, he closed them, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

I smiled faintly in return, sending a small gust of wind to extinguish the lantern flame. Darkness enveloped the room, but I remained awake, my mind swirling with unease.

Lan Feng's innocence was disarming, and his actions tonight had been harmless. But the knowledge that Ruan Yanjun still resided somewhere within him kept me on edge. What would happen when he returned to himself? Would he remember these moments? Would he laugh them off, or would he react with anger—possibly even violence?

I sighed softly, turning to my side to watch over him as he drifted into sleep. For now, he was harmless. For now, he was just a boy seeking comfort. But the shadows of the man he used to be loomed ever closer, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this fragile peace would not last forever.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

From that night onward, Lan Feng developed a habit of abandoning his bed to sleep on the floor beside me. No matter how many times I tucked him into his bed and reminded him he was old enough to sleep alone, I would always wake up in the morning to find him lying beside me. At first, it was unsettling, but over time, I learned to let it be.

He never crossed any boundaries. His presence was innocent, almost childlike. It wasn't long before I realized that he slept better when he was near me. The nightmares that used to torment him every night grew less frequent. He didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night to stare at me, seeking comfort in my presence from afar.

Yet there were nights when he'd moan softly in his sleep, his face contorted in distress. He would shift restlessly until, somehow, a part of him touched me—a hand brushing my elbow, his head finding my shoulder, or even his knees resting lightly against my thigh. The moment that connection was made, his breathing would slow, and his face would relax. It became clear to me that my presence reassured him, dispelling whatever horrors plagued his dreams.

It was an odd thing to witness, but it also touched me deeply. The vulnerability he displayed, his unguarded need for connection—it was so unlike the Ruan Yanjun I had known before. This was not the domineering sect leader or the cunning man who had betrayed me. This was a boy, lost and desperate for comfort, clinging to the only person he felt he could trust.

As the days passed, my wariness began to fade. I stopped being cautious around him, stopped reminding myself that he was the infamous Ruan Yanjun. To me, he was no longer that man. He was Lan Feng, a different person entirely—one I could feel safe with.

Eventually, I stopped keeping track of where he slept. Whether he stayed in his bed or curled up beside me on the floor, it no longer mattered. The truth was, I had grown used to his presence. His quiet breathing, the way he instinctively sought my proximity in moments of distress—it all became part of my nightly routine.

There was a strange comfort in it, as if, in caring for him, I had found a way to ease my own loneliness. For the first time in years, I felt needed—not as a pawn or a tool, but as someone who could truly make a difference in another's life. It was a fragile, fleeting peace, but it was enough.

For now, Lan Feng was just Lan Feng, and that was all he needed to be.