Chapter 15: A Dream of Enchantment

By the time Beigong Qiyi returned to “Xianyi Residence,” night had already fallen. Inside, two or three small lamps were lit, their candlelight flickering gently and filling the room with a warm glow. Xi Mo leaned on the table with her left hand propping up her head, eyes closed, as if she had already slipped into sleep.

Beigong Qiyi tiptoed over and reached out to wake her, but hesitated for a moment. In the end, he gently lifted Xi Mo into his arms. She must have been exhausted, for Qiyi’s movements were feather-light and she did not stir. He laid her on the bed in the side chamber. Xi Mo murmured softly, rolled over, and soon drifted back into a deep slumber.

Beigong Qiyi smiled, rose, and extinguished the candles in the room before leaving quietly. He shrugged off his wide, pale yellow outer robe embroidered with cloud patterns and hung it carelessly on the clothes rack, then walked into the inner chamber.

A golden haze from the candlelight filled the room. The crimson bed curtains billowed with the evening breeze that slipped through the unclosed window. Beigong Qiyi removed the silver-gilt, jade-inlaid crab-shaped hairpin from his head, letting his long black hair tumble loose about his shoulders. He crossed to the window and shut it, then moved the dark brown lotus-shaped incense burner from the sill to the small table by the low couch. From his robe, he took out a piece of red incense and placed it into the burner.

Lowering his gaze, Beigong Qiyi stared pensively at the incense, his slender, arched brows furrowing slightly. At last, he let out a low sigh. Drawing a small knife from his boot, he cut a deep gash into the pale, luminous skin of his wrist. Bright red blood ran down his fair arm, dripping slowly into the incense burner. His long, thick lashes trembled, like the wings of a butterfly poised mid-flight.

As the faintly pink smoke curled upward, Beigong Qiyi began to smile, gently caressing the incense burner. The crimson cinnabar mark on his brow flushed even redder. Only when the strange fragrance dissipated did he rise, draw a delicate little jar from his robe, and slowly unscrew the lid. Inside was a scarlet insect; he placed the jar into the incense burner. The pale pink smoke gradually faded, and when it finally vanished, he retrieved the jar.

He poked the plump little creature inside. Sated from its meal, the insect shifted contentedly before resuming its usual feigned stillness. Qiyi shook his head in amusement, capped the jar, and tucked it back into his robe. A glance into the incense burner showed not a trace of ash.

He rose and reopened the window he had only recently closed. Expressionless, he gazed outside. The lights of “Li Manor” still glimmered in the darkness. Silently, Beigong Qiyi looked toward “Xingyin Pavilion,” where Beigong Juechen resided. His phoenix eyes narrowed, and his hand, hanging at his side, unconsciously clenched.

Beigong Qiyi seemed to drift into a long, beautiful dream. The figure in his dream, usually so cold and cunning, now held him with rare tenderness. That man wore nothing, his black hair spread across the bedding. Qiyi kissed his soft, rosy lips, his hand gliding over smooth, unblemished skin. Unable to resist, he opened his eyes, wanting to see the man’s face...

Beigong Qiyi awoke with a start, only to find the bedside surrounded by a bevy of beautiful maids. The air was thick with the scent of cosmetics and the clinking of jade bangles. Rubbing his brow to banish the memory of those deep green eyes from his dream, he allowed the maids to dress him in elegant robes and arrange his hair. Once he was ready, he left “Xianyi Residence.” Xi Mo was already waiting at the door. Seeing him, she hurried over.

“Master.”

Beigong Qiyi smiled. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Xi Mo lowered her head in embarrassment. “When did you come back, Master? You didn’t wake me.”

“You seemed to be sleeping soundly. I thought you must be tired from the past few days.” With that, Qiyi strode ahead toward the dining hall. Xi Mo stood for a moment, watching the slender but upright figure, then trotted after him.

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Inside the dining hall stood a massive rosewood table. In each corner of the room was a deep brown, intricately carved wooden stand, each holding a lush green pot of devil’s ivy. The vines clung to the four legs of the stands, cascading all the way to the floor.

Several maids stood on either side of the room, each holding a tray of dishes. Beigong Juechen sat at the head of the table, two maids standing at his sides. Beigong Qiyi greeted him as usual, “Greetings, elder brother.” Juechen nodded and motioned for him to sit. Qiyi obeyed, taking the seat below. Xi Mo stood quietly at his side, head bowed.

“Come sit beside me,” Juechen said. Qiyi arched a brow and moved to sit next to him. Two maids immediately stepped forward to attend him. Xi Mo remained in place, head down, standing behind him. Beigong Juechen glanced at her and spoke in a low voice, “Xi Mo, you may go.”

Xi Mo started, raising her eyes to Beigong Juechen. But meeting those cold, dark green eyes, she shivered involuntarily, quickly lowering her gaze and looking to Qiyi for guidance. Seeing Qiyi smile and nod, she hurried out, flustered.

Juechen beckoned to the maids to serve the food. They arranged the dishes in order, lifting the lids to reveal a spread of fragrant, exquisite delicacies. Four maids stood ready to serve Juechen and Qiyi.

Juechen picked up his chopsticks and brought a dainty pearl meatball to his lips. Qiyi watched, almost unconsciously, as the man’s lips parted—those lips that in his dream had been so soft and warm—taking in the white dumpling in one bite. For a moment, Qiyi glimpsed the tip of his pale red tongue. His grip on the chopsticks tightened, and he withdrew his gaze, taking his own pearl meatball.

The dishes were beautifully prepared and delicious, but somehow, in Qiyi’s eyes, the man with those rare, dark green eyes seemed far more enticing.

“Why are you staring at me instead of eating?” Juechen asked offhandedly after swallowing a bite of bamboo shoot, looking at Qiyi. Qiyi blinked, eyes passing over the array of colorful, fragrant dishes, but suddenly found he’d lost his appetite. He set down his chopsticks. “I’m not very hungry.”

Juechen nodded indifferently and paid him no further mind, eating quietly with impeccable manners—neither fast nor slow, not a sound to be heard. Qiyi rested his chin in his hand, watching Juechen, and suddenly felt hungry again...

After about half a cup of tea’s time, Juechen set down his chopsticks, took the handkerchief offered by a maid, and wiped his mouth. Then he turned to Qiyi, who had watched him the entire meal. “Go change your clothes. You’re coming out with me later.”

“For what?” Qiyi asked reflexively. Juechen shot him a glance. “Just do as you’re told.” Qiyi touched his nose helplessly and nodded, “Yes.”