Chapter 111: The past events of usurping one’s life are in vain, chasing dreams within dreams, loving others for many times…

In the drowsiness after the severe pain, he had the dream he was best at.

Young Master Jin Sheng has always been a thoughtful person, and his dreams have more variables than others.

Ever since she had the Huangdi needle implanted, she had these dreams more frequently.

His consciousness left the cold cabin, and also left the body that was repeatedly tormented by pain and fever. He first heard a voice.

The dream began with the cacophony of cicadas, each one louder than the last, nearly drowning out the early summer heat. The scent of damp herbs, mixed with the aftermath of rain, enveloped him like a hostage.

He knew where he was back.

Yaowang Valley, that medicine hut entwined with honeysuckle and Uncaria rhynchophylla. It was the only place in his life where he had ever glimpsed sunlight and warmth.

It’s very familiar, even in dreams, it’s very familiar, I don’t know how many times I’ve returned here.

He had transformed back into the teenage boy he was, leaning quietly on the couch. The chilling pain in his body now seemed distant, as if separated by a layer of mist.

The door was pushed open.

A bright and cheerful girl, also in her teens, walked in, shaking her medicine basket and stepping on the ground filled with morning light.

"Are you awake?" she asked with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she tilted her head to look at him. "How are you feeling today?"

He looked at her, his throat dry and unable to speak. This was a dream he had repeated countless times, a beginning he had replayed over and over again with memories and fantasies, yet could never change. He knew what was coming next.

She would sit next to him, spread out the tiny cicada shells in front of him, showing off like treasures, and tell him how lucky she was.

She would say that cicada shells can be used as medicine to help him cure his eyes.

She would frown because she was worried about him.

Then, to comfort him, she would talk about the brother she had left behind and could never find again.

She said, "So I won't abandon you, don't worry."

She said, "Don't be afraid. I will treat you like my own brother."

No.

wrong.

He wanted to avoid it, but the dream was abruptly twisted by something in his heart.

"I'm not your brother."

The young man spoke in a hoarse voice, but his voice was faintly revealing a strange, cold and hard paranoia.

The smile on Qing Guiyu's face froze slightly in her dream, as if she was startled by this abrupt remark. She blinked and looked at him in confusion, "Mr. Shen, what did you say?"

"I've never," he said, emphasizing each word, practically gritting his teeth as he spoke out those thoughts that had been buried deep in his heart for seven years, long since rotting and fermenting, one by one, "I never wanted to be your younger brother."

He stood up from the couch.

The dream scene suddenly shifted at that moment. The surrounding medicine hut, the medicine cabinet, the honeysuckle vines outside the window, all faded and faded like ink, leaving only him and her standing in a void filled with the chirping of cicadas.

He had changed too. No longer the frail young man, he was now dressed in the familiar black robes. Golden threads swayed from his wrists, gleaming faintly and dangerously in the dim light.

But in this dream, Qing Guiyu was still the seventeen-year-old girl. She looked at the man who suddenly appeared, a man who seemed both familiar and unfamiliar.

"Who are you?" she asked sternly, subconsciously taking a step back, her hand tightly gripping the bamboo flute.

Shen Juansheng looked at her, seeing her strangeness and defensiveness, and a pain mixed with violence surged up from every part of his body.

"It's me." He took a step forward and tried to comfort her with his usual light tone, "Miss Qing, it's me."

"Stop!" She held the bamboo flute across her chest, adopting a defensive stance like a jade gate embracing snow. "You are not Master Shen! Who are you?"

He is not him.

Of course. He was no longer the young man who allowed her to approach without warning, who could make her feel pity. He was the Golden-voiced Young Master, a venomous snake raised by Chen Yan, a beast with blood on his hands.

She didn't recognize him.

It hurt more than any palm strike Chen Yan had given him.

"Come with me," he said hoarsely, extending his hand toward her. The slender, cold hand, wrapped in golden threads, trembled slightly in the air.

"You're dreaming!" Qing Guiyu didn't think twice, he played the bamboo flute and tapped his pulse.

Several strands of golden threads escaped from the young man's wrist and lightly wrapped around her bamboo flute. With a few pulls and drops, the girl's mediocre kung fu was dissolved into nothingness.

"Let me go!" Qing Guiyu was caught by him and struggled violently, but the golden blade was extremely tough. The more she struggled, the tighter the silk thread became.

He walked up to her, leaned down, and trapped her in his shadow.

A familiar, clear, cold fragrance, mixed with the scent of an adult man, enveloped her entire being. This was no longer the clean, slightly cool herbal scent that had infused her as a teenager, but a cold, aggressive, and dangerous scent.

"Why don't you recognize me?" he asked her calmly.

"Miss Qing," he whispered softly, almost pleadingly, "It's me..."

"Let me go! You lunatic!" Qing Guiyu was so frightened by his appearance that his whole body turned cold. He raised his knees and was about to push against him.

But he only pressed her tighter. Her body, which had been cold due to years of practicing cold skills, was now slightly warm due to her swaying emotions.

"I don't want to be your brother," he repeated in her ear, over and over again, his voice trembling, "Your Mr. Shen never wanted to be your brother."

"I just want you to look at me. Only at me."

His kiss, filled with desperation and madness, landed on the corner of her lips. Cold and soft.

Qing Guiyu was so shocked by his sudden invasion that her mind went blank. She turned her head suddenly and the kiss fell on her cheek.

"Chen Juansheng!" She finally squeezed out the name from between her teeth, her voice full of shock, anger and trembling.

He seemed to be burned by the name and froze completely.

Young Master Jin Sheng slowly raised his head, madly suppressed by the shame and confusion that had filled him for many years.

"I..." He opened his mouth, suddenly loosened his grip on her hand, and then staggered back two steps as if burned by fire.

The domineering aura he had just displayed instantly collapsed when he saw the undisguised fear and disgust in her eyes.

He looked at his hand which still retained her body temperature, and then at her clothes and hair which were messed up by him.

"I'm sorry," he said in a panic, "I... I didn't mean to... I just..."

A beautiful snake finally showed its fangs, but at the moment before biting, it was strangled by the opponent's fear and could only curl up in its corner in embarrassment and pain.

The dream began to collapse.

The chirping of cicadas gradually faded away, the bright light of early summer was gone, and the empty darkness also receded like the tide.

I wanted to grab something, but all I got was a cold, empty hand and eyes filled with fear and disgust.

Sure enough, he couldn't keep her.

But the golden needle in his heart was unwilling to let him go.

*

After falling from this place, the medicine hut was still the same medicine hut, but the light had become dim and warm, and the morning outside the window was no longer the morning after the sudden rain, but the afternoon of midsummer, filled with the lazy heat.

She was sitting beside the couch, holding a coat in her hand, looking down at the young man on the couch.

"I'm going out now," she said, counting the time with her fingers on her palm. "Ah, it will probably take about an hour."

The young man on the couch didn't move. He just raised his head and looked at her quietly with his eyes that were no longer misty but had become clear.

Of course it’s not the seventeen-year-old Shen Juansheng,

His eyes were healed, and now he was wearing a black robe, tied with gold thread, and covered in blood and conspiracy that could not be washed away.

"Mr. Shen?" This time, the girl in the dream felt a little uncomfortable being looked at by him and tilted her head strangely.

He did not answer, but just looked at her, looked at the lively impatience between her eyebrows, and looked at the faint joy in her eyes because she was about to meet his blood brother.

"Don't go." He finally spoke, his voice gentle and clear as that of an adult.

The girl was startled by his unfamiliar tone and expression, and subconsciously wanted to stand up.

But he took the first step, sat up from the couch, and reached out to grab the hem of her coat before she could take it away.

"Don't worry, Mr. Shen," she seemed to feel something was wrong and frowned, but she still patiently smiled at him and said, "I have to think of a way too. I can't let you wear my clothes, right?"

It's this sentence again.

These words, tinged with mischief and jokingness, had once ignited despicable and delusional thoughts in his heart.

Shen Juansheng slowly raised his eyes, staring blankly at the green coat in her hand.

"If you put it on, you won't leave?"

He asked.

He was no longer the boy who could only lower his head in shame, cover his face with his fingertips, and hastily agree. He stood up, took a step closer, and stared at her with his eyes, which had regained their clarity and were as clear as glass, without blinking.

The girl was frightened by his sudden oppression and took a step back. The relaxed smile on her face froze in an instant.

"you……"

"If I put it on, I'd draw your eyebrows, put flowers in your hair, and do all the things in the world that are not worthy of public display for you," he continued recklessly, pushing her back a little further with each step, until her back was against the cold medicine cabinet. "Can you please come with me?"

These words were bold and explicit. They were the words he had repeatedly described in his mind back then, but he didn't even dare to think of them in full.

Chen Juansheng didn't say anything else, but stretched out his hand and took the green coat from the girl with his bloody hands that had once turned the world upside down.

The fabric was soft and carried her clean, light herbal scent.

He gave a wry smile and slowly and lightly put the coat over his complicated and gorgeous black robe.

The cyan clothing was ultimately too narrow for the man's frame, covering him incongruously. The cyan and black colors overlapped, like a touch of melancholy willow green in spring, scattered among the withered branches of winter, revealing a sense of absurd sadness.

"Is it pretty?" He asked softly, his voice trembling under the words he had said back then, "Is it... as pretty as your senior brother?"

The girl had never seen such a scene before. She was completely stunned by his strange behavior and words. She even forgot to struggle and just stared at him with a pair of eyes full of horror.

"If you like it, I'll wear it every day." He took a step towards her and lowered his head tenderly. "I can do everything. I can draw eyebrows and hair, make tea and wear flowers in my hair. Whatever you like, I can learn it."

"I don't want you to get married," the young man with the golden voice pulled her close, leaned over, and his breath brushed her cheek, and her overly pale face finally turned red.

The desires that had been hidden for many years were torn off by my own hands at this moment, exposed and broken.

This strange young man in black clothes spoke incoherently and his voice was trembling.

In the corner of delirium, the deeply buried fantasies finally broke out under the protection of dreams, filled with the smell of rotten and desperate earth.

"I want to be your husband."

The girl in the dream finally came to her senses. She looked at the strange man in front of her who was wearing her clothes and talking nonsense, and was scared half to death.

“You are not him,” she snapped, “What did you do to Mr. Shen?”

The girl pointed her fingers at him.

But he caught her hand mid-air. He was reluctant to use any force, and only gently wrapped her wrist with his cold fingertips.

"I am him." The young man defended desperately, almost begging, "Miss Qing, I have always been him."

"Let me go!" The girl struggled violently, tears welling up in her eyes. "What are you doing here? Who are you?"

The edges of the dream began to peel and crumble like a burning scroll. The walls of the medicine house crumbled to dust, and the girl's sobs twisted into piercing screams.

He knew that he was about to be abandoned by this dream.

He has also been abandoned by the woman in his dream.

"Let's go together."

At the moment before she completely collapsed, he tightened his arms and pulled the tear-stained, struggling girl into his arms. He stared down at her numbly.

"You can take me away."

He knew it was wishful thinking.

Because the girl in his arms had begun to become transparent and cold.

*

At the end of the dream, there is no more cicada chirping and no more heat. At the end of midsummer, the fragrance of honeysuckle is cool and thin, lingering around endlessly.

The young girl was picking up a yellow and white honeysuckle flower from the medicine basket and proudly gesturing at the temples of the frail young man. She discarded the white one, which she treasured so much, and carefully inserted the golden one into his hair.

She seemed to be in a good mood. Her eyes sparkled as she gave him a brilliant smile and said, "Gold suits you better."

A brand new dream. He hadn't had it in years. Shen Juansheng felt that he was probably really going to die.

Young Master Jin Sheng looked at the young man from afar. That self of his was like the body outside his body that people see when they are on the verge of death, as mentioned in the scriptures.

This was one of the few moments in his memory that was bright to the point of being luxurious.

This is also the moment in this life when I most want to go back and tear it apart with my own hands.

Because Qing Guiyu’s next sentence will talk about that “junior brother” and will say, “When the honeysuckle flowers finish blooming, you can leave this medicine house and go out of the valley.”

leave.

Then he stepped out from nothingness, no longer a young man who could only watch silently. He wore black clothes with golden thread, and his long hair was tied in a crown, which was his usual appearance now.

He was not the person in the dream, but an intruder, an... uninvited guest.

As he took a step forward, he disturbed the fence of the medicine hut, startling several fireflies and causing them to fly away in panic.

The girl, sensing his presence, jerked her head upwards. This young man… was incredibly handsome, yet within that handsomeness, there was also a lingering danger. Panic filled her eyes, and almost instinctively, she turned slightly to the side, shielding the pale, brooding young man behind her.

"Who are you?" Her voice was crisp, cold and distant, a tone he was already accustomed to hearing in real life.

The young man in black looked at her bitterly, seeing her protective posture, and opened his mouth, wanting to say "It's me".

"This is Medicine King Valley. You—" The girl took a step forward, one hand already grasping the bamboo flute at her waist, "Why are you here?"

Young Master Jinsheng did not answer and walked forward.

"Let's go," he simply said, holding out his hand to her.

The girl's cheeks flushed with anger at his reckless behavior. She sternly shouted, "Lecher! If you take another step forward, I won't be polite!"

"You won't," Young Master Jinsheng said softly, "You can't bear to do it. You're soft-hearted."

He knew her too well.

But Master Jinsheng had forgotten that this was her from seven years ago. She didn't even recognize him, let alone feel indebted to him.

The rage in Qing Guiyu's eyes was intensified by this absurd assertion. She stopped talking and played her bamboo flute, releasing the Qing Nang Jue's internal energy. The tip of the flute pointed directly at his heart.

The engraved sound was not dodged or avoided.

He thought that if she could hit him like this, perhaps it would offset the sins of yearning for her and desecrating her in his dreams for so many years.

However, the tip of the flute suddenly stopped an inch away from him.

It's not that she stopped.

Instead, a pale and thin hand stretched out from the side and lightly grasped the piece of bamboo flute with two fingers.

It was the part of himself he hated the most, despised the most, and wanted to tear out of his bones the most, the weak and incompetent self who could only lie on the couch, waiting for others to show mercy.

Seven years ago, he still looked frail, with disheveled black hair and a pale face, but those eyes that were always covered with ice were now cold and a little mocking.

I raised my head, quietly, even with a hint of pity, looking at this future self.

"Are you here to seek medical help?" the young man said politely, trying to help him out. "Miss Qing is a very good doctor, but... your illness seems to be more serious than mine. I'm afraid it won't be easy to treat."

After hearing what the young man said, the girl Qing Guiyu also turned around and said,

"Go away." Her voice was cold. "You are not welcome here."

"Hmm," Young Master Jinsheng suddenly chuckled softly, the silk blades swirling around him, making a sharp humming sound. "Very good."

"You seem to have had a rough time these past few years," the young man asked curiously, his voice frighteningly flat. "You haven't had a good time."

The young man in black clothes suddenly raised his head.

"...It's your fault. Why didn't you keep her? Why did you let her go?" He shouted, questioning his younger self, "What have you done to her? If you had...if you had been of any use to her, and taken her away, leaving her unable to go anywhere, why would I have...why would I have come to this point!"

"She doesn't recognize you." The boy ignored him and continued calmly, "You scared her."

She did not recognize this "Master Chen" who was no longer sickly, no longer needed her pity, and even thought about how to keep her firmly under his control.

The girl was a little frightened. The young man in front of her was terribly paranoid. She couldn't understand the confrontation between the two men. She took a step forward and wanted to pull the sickly boy away.

But he patted her hand soothingly, met the eyes of Mr. Jin Sheng, and smiled slightly.

"I see. You lost her."

Yes.

He lost her.

In planning and intrigue, in blood feuds, in those dark corners that cannot be seen in the light.

Shen Jiansheng slowly turned around and stared at the "boy".

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Shen Juansheng looked at this "self" with an ice in his voice.

"Me?" The young man smiled faintly, raised his hand, and gently stroked his heart with his fingertips. "I am the golden needle in your heart. You dare not ask, dare not think, and can only rely on me to stay alive in exchange for a little bit of her pity."

"You lost her."

The needle-like boy repeated.

"You see, she doesn't recognize you now. She's afraid of you. She hates you."

"Shut up!" Young Master Jin Sheng took two steps forward and grabbed Qing Guiyu.

The girl gasped softly, feeling pained by his pull. His heart trembled, and he subconsciously loosened his grip.

"Why are you here?" He stared at the boy intently. "This is my dream."

"Because you can't keep her." The young man said with understanding. "You couldn't keep her then, and you can't keep her now either."

"If you had the courage back then, when she put flowers in your hair, you would have given her the white one and told her that you two were meant to be together. Tell her you didn't want to be her brother, tell her you didn't want her to get married, tell her... you wanted to marry her and be with her forever. Maybe she wouldn't have left."

The young man, whose insight was clear but also a little confused, walked forward like a sharp golden needle, step by step, until he came in front of him.

"But you don't dare."

"You only know how to hide in the shadows, using those shameful schemes to defraud her of a pitiful glance. You even... even when you begged her to save you, you planned how to make her sad."

That is to say, it is a rebuke to his master.

The young man turned around and suddenly said to the girl he had grabbed,

"Miss Qing," he raised his head, his eyes, which were always covered with a thin film, now filled with tears, looking fragile and innocent. "Did I...did I make you angry again?"

Qing Guiyu in the dream had never experienced such a situation before. He was stunned by this sudden change. The fear on his face gradually turned into confusion and pity.

"you……"

"I didn't mean to." The boy's eyelashes drooped, tears hanging lightly, "I'm just... just too scared."

"I'm afraid you won't want me anymore. I'm afraid you'll think I'm no good. I'm afraid you'll... throw me away like you threw away that white flower."

As he spoke, he stretched out his pale and trembling hand and carefully grabbed the corner of her clothes.

This gesture and these words were clearly the sharp weapon used to attack people's hearts that Young Master Jin Sheng, as an adult, had repeatedly deduced during countless sleepless nights.

At this moment, the seventeen-year-old self was using it effortlessly and flawlessly.

“Master Shen…” The girl’s voice finally softened.

"Don't be angry with me, okay?" The young man raised his head and looked at her sadly, "I'll listen to you in everything. I'll do whatever you ask me to do. As long as... as long as you don't chase me away."

He used the method he was best at.

He used retreat as a means of advance, using himself as bait. He put himself in the most beautiful and pitiful position, using that carefully disguised vulnerability in exchange for her sympathy for him.

And she, of course, fell for it.

The girl sighed, shook off her grabbed hand, and gently wiped the tears from his face with her sleeve.

"Really?" The boy's eyes lit up, then dimmed again. "But you were... very scared of him just now."

He pointed at the young man in black clothes who was frozen in place beside him.

"I..." The girl was speechless.

"That's not me." The young man said stubbornly, holding the corner of her clothes a little tighter, "Miss Qing, look at me. I am your Master Shen."

He took her hand, put his cheek against the back of her hand, and rubbed it with his cold cheek in a dependent and tender manner.

"Look," he said softly, "I only listen to you. He won't."

"I will be sick for you and in pain for you. He won't be either."

"Everything I have was given by you. And he..." The boy raised his eyes and looked at his future self who was bitten by jealousy and regret, with a cruel smile on his face.

"He has nothing."

As an adult, Shen Juansheng watched this scene with his own eyes.

He watched as the person he hated and despised the most, used his most familiar method to easily break down her defenses.

He saw the girl's eyes were as soft as water and filled with pity.

He saw her stretch out her hand, hesitate for a moment, and finally land on the boy's head, stroking it a few times in a soothing manner.

Then, he saw the young man in front of him slowly raise his head and move closer to the face that was still worried about him.

Greeted him with a kiss.

"I'm sorry," the young man who had transformed from a golden needle in his heart pressed his lips against hers, breathing rapidly, his face flushed, like the shyness of having his long-hidden desire discovered, and the panic of having his wish fulfilled.

"Miss Qing...I can't help it."

No matter how sad he looked, he must be calm at this moment, and he knew it clearly in his solemn statement. But for Young Master Jin Sheng, it was a fire that burned his soul.

Jealousy and rage were like a glacier flowing back, mixed with sharp ice spikes, madly washing away the almost collapsed mind.

He wanted to go forward, to kill the cunning boy, to snatch the soft-hearted girl back, to hide her by his side, to teach her that she would never see anything else, would not be hurt by anything else, and would be spared the pain she would suffer in the future.

The golden threads were flying around fiercely, about to tear to pieces anyone who got close.

That's how it should be.

But he was hugged from behind.

"Sound of deep engraving."

She is not the seventeen-year-old girl who could be deceived by a few words.

He turned around. His young girl was hugging him, trembling with anger.

"Chen Juansheng, what on earth are you thinking about?"