Chapter 62: Safe Space, Scandal Dream

It started as a dream.

But it felt too real.

Too warm.

Too mine.

I was back in the modern world—my world. The apartment was messy in the familiar way. Half-folded laundry on the couch. The scent of my mom's soy-simmered chicken wafting from the kitchen. My sister sat cross-legged on the floor, poking at her phone and complaining about her bangs again.

I laughed. God, it felt good to laugh.

I walked barefoot into the kitchen and saw my mom in her apron, humming off-key and slicing bok choy. She glanced up, smiled like it was any other Tuesday, and said, "Set the table."

I was halfway to grabbing the chopsticks when the doorbell rang. We all froze.

"Did you order something?" my sister asked.

I shook my head. Mom peeked out from the kitchen, frowning. "It's late."

I padded to the door, heart ticking just a little too fast. I opened it—

No one. Just a hallway. Dim. Silent.

I turned back toward the living room—

And everything was gone. No table. No couch. No smells. I was standing in a dimly lit room I didn't recognize.

Rich fabrics. Deep blue curtains. A flickering lantern. A stillness that settled into the walls like breath held too long.

And I wasn't alone. I felt him before I saw him. Arms wrapped around me from behind—strong, warm, protective.

But I wasn't afraid.

I leaned into him without thinking, without hesitation, like I'd done it a hundred times before. And I smiled.

"I missed you," I whispered.

Then I turned. Looked up. And there he was.

Shen Kexian.

Smiling at me like I was the answer to a question he'd asked lifetimes ago. I rose onto my toes and kissed him. Soft. Familiar. Certain. Like I'd always known the shape of his mouth.

And then—

I woke up.

Gasping. Heart pounding. I sat bolt upright in bed, heart jackhammering against my ribs.

What. The actual. Hell.

I pressed both palms to my face and groaned into them like I could scrub the dream off my brain if I just rubbed hard enough.

Why him?

Why not Ming Yu?

Why not a nice, normal anxiety dream about forgetting to wear my shoes to the throne room?

Why Shen Kexian, of all people?

"I miss you"? I said that? With emotion?? And a kiss like we were in some tragic, swoony xianxia drama finale?

No. No no no. This couldn't be happening. I flopped back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling like it personally betrayed me.

"That was just a dream," I muttered aloud. "Dreams are weird. People dream about flying or eating paper or kissing people they absolutely don't have feelings for and never will and definitely haven't thought about like that—oh my god."

I buried my face in my blanket.

Why did it feel so real?

Why did it feel like I knew him?

Why did my chest still ache like part of me was mourning something I didn't understand?

It didn't make any sense. I barely know Shen Kexian. He's smug, secretive, frustratingly attractive in a "historical drama second male lead you regret liking" sort of way.

But this? This was not normal. And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of me didn't want to forget how safe I felt in that dream.

How familiar it was. How it felt like coming home. I clenched my fists under the covers.

"No," I whispered to myself. "This doesn't mean anything. I love Ming Yu. I chose Ming Yu. And I am not going to spiral over one stupid dream."

...Right?

The next morning, I did the only logical thing a person could do after dreaming about passionately kissing the most mysterious and emotionally unavailable man in the palace.

I barged into Yuling's room. Didn't knock. Didn't send a maid. Just threw the door open like I was launching a siege.

Yuling looked up from her embroidery with a startled blink. "Mei Lin?"

I shut the door behind me like I was locking out demons and crossed the room in three stormy strides.

"I'm having an emotional crisis," I declared. "This is a safe space, right? Tell me this is a safe space."

She blinked again. "It was... until just now."

"Good," I said, already pacing. "Because I need to talk and I need to talk fast before I have a full identity implosion and possibly make out with the wrong person in real life too."

That got her attention. Yuling set her embroidery down very carefully. "I'm listening."

I whirled back toward her. "I had a dream. A dream-dream. And not the kind with floating pigs and stress about palace etiquette exams. A romantic dream."

She raised a brow. "About…?"

I threw my arms up. "Shen Kexian."

Yuling's face froze. Not shocked. Not scandalized. Just very still. Then: "Oh."

"Oh?" I echoed, incredulous. "That's all you've got? Oh?!"

She patted the seat beside her. "Sit down before you combust."

I collapsed onto the cushions, face already in my hands. "I kissed him, Yuling. In the dream. Like, full-on slow-motion kiss. I told him I missed him."

Yuling winced. "Oof."

"Right?" I moaned. "Why am I dreaming about him? I barely know him! I mean, yes, he's objectively unfairly good-looking and smells like high-end secrets, but that's not the point!"

"The point is…" she prompted.

"I love Ming Yu," I said, like I was reminding myself. "Ming Yu, the actual perfect man who reads poetry, respects boundaries, and makes my heart feel safe. This Shen Kexian nonsense is just—dream residue. Brain static. Absolutely irrelevant."

Yuling handed me a cup of tea. "You told Shen Kexian about this?"

"What? No! Are you kidding me? I can barely look him in the eye without wanting to fling myself off a balcony for having weird subconscious feelings."

She nodded slowly. "So… what are you going to do?"

I clutched the teacup like it held answers. "Avoid him. At all costs."

A pause. Then Yuling said, very gently, "You do realize he's your official spiritual trainer, right?"

I nearly dropped the tea. "I hate everything," I whispered.

Just as I reeled myself back in—finally breathing, finally convincing myself to stop panicking about dream kisses and forbidden tension—another horrible thought slammed into me.

I froze. "Oh no."

Yuling tilted her head. "What now?"

"I'm the worst person in the entire world."

She blinked. "I mean, a little dramatic, but I'm listening."

"No, seriously," I said, eyes wide, heart sinking. "You liked me. Like, liked liked me. And now here I am, stumbling in here, emotionally dumping all over you about another man, while you're literally pregnant and glowing and making baby socks and being kind to me like I'm not a complete idiot."

Yuling's eyes softened. "Mei Lin—"

"I'm selfish," I blurted. "And emotionally stunted. And my head is a stupid, chaotic mess, and I just kissed someone in a dream while being in love with Ming Yu and now I'm making you listen to it like some drama character with no empathy—"

"Mei Lin."

I stopped. She smiled. Not the pitying kind. Not the tight, polite court smile.

A real one. "It doesn't matter how I feel about you," she said softly. "Actually, I haven't thought about it for a while now."

I blinked. "You haven't?"

She chuckled. "No. I've been a little preoccupied. You know. With growing a whole human inside me."

"Oh," I said weakly.

Yuling reached beside her and lifted a small silk bundle. "You want to see what I've been working on instead?"

She unwrapped it—and my jaw dropped.

Tiny hand-stitched slippers, soft cloud-patterned wraps, an embroidered bib with a rabbit under a plum tree.

I stared. "Oh my god. You're into this."

She laughed. "Apparently so."

"Like, actually excited."

She nodded, eyes shining a little. "It's funny. I didn't think I'd be the type. But now… it's like the world got smaller, but warmer."

We both stared at the tiny baby tunic in her lap.

Then smiled at each other again—quiet, knowing.

I leaned back and sipped my tea. "Well, I may be a disaster, but at least one of us is thriving."

"You're not a disaster," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just emotionally confused right now."

Then Yuling turned to me, brow arched.

"So," she said, stirring her tea casually, "what are you going to do about the dream?"

I groaned into my cup. "Step one: Not tell Ming Yu."

She smirked. "Smart."

"No, like seriously. That man would combust. He'd die on the spot. Vaporize from internal jealousy and righteousness."

Yuling nodded solemnly. "A death by sheer emotional repression."

"Exactly," I muttered. "I'm trying to keep him alive."

She chuckled, then sobered slightly. "And the rest?"

I hesitated. Then exhaled. "There's this… thing. This stupid thing. Every time I'm near Shen Kexian, I get this horrible headache—like a flash of pain that's gone in seconds. And this—this pull. Like my heart isn't mine anymore. Like it remembers something I don't."

Yuling's eyes softened, but she didn't speak. Just let me sit with it.

"It's not a crush," I said quickly. "It's not like that. I'm in love with Ming Yu. He's the one I want to be with. This—this weird Shen Kexian gravitational nonsense is completely involuntary. It's like my chest is rigged to a trapdoor, and he's holding the switch without knowing."

Yuling frowned, thinking. Then asked slowly, "Are you sure you haven't seen Shen Kexian before? Maybe… in your world?"

I blinked. "What?"

She shrugged. "You said you're not from here. Is it possible you saw him there? Somehow?"

"Hell no," I said instantly. "If I had someone who looked like that in my world, I would've made him my boyfriend, roommate, and lockscreen wallpaper."

Yuling snorted.

"I mean, come on," I waved a hand. "He looks like someone who should be on billboards, shirtless, selling cologne. Everyone in my world would've lined up to ruin their lives over a man with that face."

She gave me a look. "And yet, here you are. Trying to avoid him like he's contagious."

"Because he is," I muttered. "Emotionally contagious. Like an ancient spiritual plague wrapped in perfect cheekbones."

Right on cue, a bell rang somewhere in the distance.

The kind of ceremonial chime that meant: Time to go get emotionally unhinged by your mysterious possibly-immortal spiritual trainer.

I groaned. Loudly. Dramatically. Like the palace walls should mourn with me.

"There it is," I muttered, setting down my tea. "The sound of doom dressed in silk."

Yuling laughed into her sleeve. "Training time?"

"Apparently. Because my soul hasn't suffered enough."

I stood up, dragging my feet like a child being sent to etiquette school.

Yuling grinned. "Well… if you can't avoid Shen Kexian…"

I paused mid-sulk.

She leaned in, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Just drag Ming Yu to the dungeon tonight. You might feel better."

I choked on my own breath.

"Yuling!!" I hissed, eyes wide, face burning.

She burst into laughter—real laughter, loud and unrepentant.

I grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her. "You're lucky you're pregnant, or I'd throw you into your own embroidery basket."

She giggled even harder.

I stormed out in full blush-mode, muttering under my breath—but smiling.

Because if I was going to have a spiritual crisis, an ancient mystery heartache, and a male-lead-dream-kiss problem… at least I had one person in this palace who would hand me tea, laugh at my drama, and still tell me to go get laid.