In his sleep, Jun Huailang felt as though he were being tightly bound by shackles, unable to catch his breath.
He struggled to open his eyes, but everything before him was blurry.
Only then did he realize that Xue Yan was holding him tightly in his arms, his cheek pressed against the firm, well-defined chest beneath Xue Yan’s loosely worn inner robe.
“…Xue Yan?” Jun Huailang’s voice was still hoarse with sleep.
Xue Yan tightened his embrace.
Jun Huailang exerted considerable effort before managing to push him away a little. He rubbed his eyes and raised his head, only to see Xue Yan looking down at him, the rims of his eyes slightly red.
“What’s wrong?” Jun Huailang was startled fully awake. He hurriedly raised his hand to touch Xue Yan’s face and forehead.
Xue Yan immediately caught his hand and held it in his palm.
“…I had a dream,” he said quietly.
Jun Huailang asked casually, “What kind of dream?”
He assumed Xue Yan had experienced a nightmare. But generally speaking, what ordinary ghosts and spirits could possibly frighten someone like Xue Yan?
He wrapped his arms around Xue Yan’s shoulders and back, soothing him gently as he looked up into his eyes.
He had no idea how reassuring his actions were in the dim light of the night.
Xue Yan’s nose suddenly stung, and tears welled up in his eyes.
“Hey…”
Jun Huailang froze. He watched as Xue Yan blinked. With a flutter of his long eyelashes, which resembled the delicate wings of a small fan, a tear rolled out of his eye and slid down his cheek, disappearing into his hair.
Jun Huailang hurriedly raised his hand to wipe it away.
“All right, all right. It was only a dream. It’s over now. Everything’s fine.”
He quickly pulled Xue Yan into his arms. Xue Yan lowered his head and buried himself in Jun Huailang’s embrace.
As Jun Huailang held him, he felt Xue Yan’s warm breath against the hollow of his shoulder. With each breath, it brushed against his neck, making the skin there tingle and itch a little.
After a moment, Xue Yan spoke in a muffled voice.
“If one day I do something wrong, and you hate me for it, you can come and take my life yourself,” he said.
“…But you’re not allowed to run away. You can’t leave me.”
After that day, Jun Huailang began to feel that Xue Yan was behaving somewhat differently from usual.
Xue Chang was now five years old. Besides handling the various trivial affairs of the imperial court, Xue Yan also had to take on the responsibility of educating him. Xue Yan was busy every day, and Jun Huailang had long grown accustomed to it.
But after that day, Xue Yan seemed to have become less busy.
He even set aside the task of checking Xue Chang’s studies. Once he had finished dealing with the important matters during the day, he would return home and wait for Jun Huailang. Sometimes, when Jun Huailang came out of the Hanlin Academy, he would even find Xue Yan waiting outside to pick him up.
Whenever Jun Huailang saw him, he would find Xue Yan gazing at him with an almost pleading look in his eyes.
That expression made him look rather pitiful, like a big dog that had done something wrong and was waiting to be punished. Jun Huailang was somewhat puzzled, but whenever he looked more closely, Xue Yan would hurriedly avert his gaze and put on an air of nonchalance.
A rather transparent attempt to cover something up.
Jun Huailang felt certain that something had happened.
However, no matter how much he thought about it, he could not figure out what had occurred recently.
He decided to ask Xue Yan about it.
Thus, after finishing his official duties that day, Jun Huailang deliberately returned to the residence half an hour early and had dinner with Xue Yan.
When they had finished eating, Jun Huailang was just about to speak when Xue Yan turned to look at him.
“…There’s something I need to confess to you.”
Xue Yan gritted his teeth and looked at him steadily.
Jun Huailang raised his eyes and saw that Xue Yan’s expression was solemn. Along with that seriousness, there was a stiffness brought on by nervousness. His amber-colored eyes were filled with the resolve of someone prepared to face death.
Jun Huailang could not help growing a little more curious. He straightened his expression.
“Go ahead.”
Xue Yan placed both hands on his knees and clenched them into fists.
“…You might not believe me, but everything I’m about to say is the truth,” Xue Yan said.
Jun Huailang nodded earnestly.
Then Xue Yan said, “…I killed you in my previous life.”
Jun Huailang: “…”
Xue Yan continued, “You might not believe me, but when I had that dream the other day, I truly saw those events. …It’s not that I mistook a dream for reality. What I dreamed about must have really happened. I had never met you before, and I didn’t even know who you were, but I still gave the order for someone to…”
He was extremely nervous and remorseful, to the point that even his words came out in a disordered sequence. The more he spoke, the more anxious he became. When he looked at Jun Huailang, his gaze was filled with apprehension, and he seemed utterly helpless.
Jun Huailang’s heart was struck hard by that look.
He stood up and walked over, raising a hand to cover Xue Yan’s lips.
“That’s enough,” he said. “I know everything.”
Xue Yan looked up at him.
Jun Huailang said, “Those things never happened. And even if they did, they weren’t done by you.”
But Xue Yan shook his head. “I did them.”
After all, that dream had not felt like a dream. Instead, it had felt like a strange memory from a completely different life.
In those memories, he had never met Jun Huailang from beginning to end, and naturally, he had never known him. He had been alone, climbing step by step to the pinnacle of power in the Great Yong Dynasty before personally leading his troops to reclaim the lands of Yan. On the day he finally occupied Yan territory, one of the King of Yan’s subordinates had handed him that letter.
After that, he had become a madman devoid of all emotion.
Xue Yan stared intently at Jun Huailang, only to see him let out a quiet laugh.
“Even if you did those things in your previous life, am I not perfectly fine in this life?” Jun Huailang said. “Things that never happened simply never happened. Why do you insist on taking responsibility for them?”
Xue Yan paused.
Jun Huailang was calm and composed. He did not treat Xue Yan’s words as a joke in the slightest, almost as though… he had known about them all along.
After a moment, Xue Yan slowly spoke.
“…So, it really did happen?”
Jun Huailang blinked.
Meeting Xue Yan’s gaze, Jun Huailang suddenly found himself unable to bring himself to nod.
Jun Huailang had never intended to tell Xue Yan about the events of their previous life. He had not expected Xue Yan to learn about them in this way after all.
That night, Xue Yan held him tightly and refused to let go.
“I really was a piece of shit in my previous life,” Xue Yan gritted out.
Jun Huailang had already lost count of how many times Xue Yan had repeated those words that evening. He had begun laughing as he tried to console him.
“You didn’t even know me back then,” he said.
“That doesn’t make it acceptable.” Xue Yan gritted his teeth. “If I ever encounter that version of myself, I’ll kill him with my own hands. I’ll tear him apart piece by piece.”
He sounded utterly sincere. Jun Huailang raised his head and saw that Xue Yan’s eyes were fierce, the muscles in his cheeks taut as though he were grinding his teeth.
Jun Huailang laughed so hard that his shoulders trembled.
Xue Yan lowered his head and kissed him hard on the lips.
Jun Huailang pushed him away a little and asked, “Do you remember what happened after that?”
Xue Yan paused.
“Nothing much happened after that,” he said. “Everything continued until that little brat, Number Eight, grew to fourteen. Linghuan staged a palace coup and killed me.”
He spoke so casually, as though it were nothing important.
Jun Huailang froze.
“Linghuan?” he asked.
Xue Yan nodded.
“After you… Linghuan had been secretly plotting and raising Number Eight all along,” he said. “After all, Number Eight was the new ruler. Since I had no intention of sitting on the throne, the imperial officials naturally understood that the authority would eventually belong to him.”
He pulled Jun Huailang into his embrace.
“Linghuan was trying to avenge you back then, wasn’t she?” Jun Huailang asked quietly.
Xue Yan hummed in acknowledgment. “She once told me that if I didn’t kill her, I would regret it one day.”
He paused, then lowered his head and kissed the crown of Jun Huailang’s hair.
“I don’t regret it, though,” he said. “By then, I was already tired of living. Linghuan’s actions actually gave me a way out.”
“In that world… there was no you. There wasn’t much point in living,” he muttered softly.
Jun Huailang chuckled quietly.
“That’s why I say none of what happened in that life counts.”
He raised his head and planted a kiss on Xue Yan’s chin.
“As long as we’re both safe and well in this life, that’s enough.”