At two o’clock in the afternoon, sunlight was blocked outside by the heavy curtains. Ye Qingyang opened his eyes, feeling groggy and noticing the stifling heat in the room.
He pulled back the covers, then suddenly froze.
Wait… wasn’t he dead?
He sat up in confusion, only to see his own hands—young, soft, untouched by the years.
Ye Qingyang immediately realized what had happened. Damn it! Could it be… he had transmigrated again?
He got out of bed and went toward the bathroom mirror to check his reflection, but as he opened the door, he saw a familiar yet unfamiliar girl sitting on the sofa, watching TV.
“Awake?” she said calmly. “Want some food? Mom and Dad left some for you in the fridge.”
Ye Qingyang stared at her, completely shocked. After a long moment, he managed to calm himself enough to speak in disbelief, “Yuan Yuan?”
Ye Qingyuan frowned. “Why are you staring at me like that? Not hungry?”
Overcome with emotion, Ye Qingyang rushed forward and hugged her silently, a smile tugging at his lips.
He was holding his own little sister, taking in the familiar home surroundings he had almost forgotten. Only now did he fully realize—he hadn’t transmigrated again. He had returned. He was back home.
Ye Qingyuan, confused, asked, “What’s going on? Did you have a nightmare?”
Ye Qingyang laughed softly. “Yeah… I dreamed of zombies surrounding the city and eating you.”
Ye Qingyuan: …
Fuming, she pushed him away. “What kind of dream is that?! You let me get eaten! Couldn’t you think of something nicer?”
“So I killed the zombies to avenge you,” Ye Qingyang said with a grin.
Ye Qingyuan was still pouting. “You should’ve finished avenging me before reviving me… or better yet, not let me die in the first place!”
Ye Qingyang gently ruffled her hair. “Alright, I’ll revive you next time I dream tonight.”
He released her with a smile and stepped into the bathroom, where the mirror reflected a familiar yet strange face.
It was his original self. After so many years of living in another body, he had grown used to that face. Now, seeing his old face again felt unusual—but no matter. Turning back to his own reflection, he thought: handsome as ever, only gain, no loss.
His thoughts then turned to Lu Jingcheng.
They had left their previous world almost simultaneously, both at the age of ninety-three, having lived full lives. Lu Jingcheng, now an old man, still carried his proud, tsundere charm—always elegantly dressed, spectacles perched on his nose, giving the impression of a retired professor.
He tended flowers, raised dogs, read books, and one day, he had told Ye Qingyang, “I think I’ll leave first this time.”
Ye Qingyang, playing with a dog, asked, “Weren’t you worried I’d be sad if I outlived you, so you wanted to go first?”
Lu Jingcheng nodded. “I used to think that way. But these past few days, I’ve realized this world is still beautiful. One more day alive means one more day to see its beauty. I want you to see it, too.”
Ye Qingyang smiled. “Alright, that works.”
He had always viewed life and death pragmatically; whether he left before or after Jingcheng didn’t matter. He only worried that if he went first, someone like Lu Jingcheng would soon follow him.
But reality proved him wrong.
Lu Jingcheng indeed left first, peacefully. Holding Ye Qingyang’s hand, he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for you. Come later.”
Ye Qingyang nodded, tears streaming down. When Lu Jingcheng closed his eyes for the last time, Ye Qingyang felt as though part of his own heart had died with him.
The children gathered around to console him, even Lu Jingxi sat quietly by his side.
Ye Qingyang remained composed, methodically arranging everything for what came next. That night, following his usual routine, he went to bed.
This time, however, he did not wake up in that world. He saw the children crying, watched Lu Jingxi’s eyes turn red.
She whispered, “I knew it would happen this way. He always thought of my brother. Now that my brother’s gone, his attachment to this world is gone too.”
Ye Qingyang wanted to comfort her but felt a pulling sensation. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own bedroom.
Shouting outside, he called, “Yuan Yuan, what’s the date today?”
Ye Qingyuan answered loudly and helpfully, giving him the exact time: 2:10 p.m.
Only then did Ye Qingyang realize—his life in the book had passed in the blink of an eye. From the moment he entered the story, only one night had elapsed.
It had been like a long dream, a fleeting illusion.
Sadness welled up inside him. He was back, reunited with his family, yet he had lost Lu Jingcheng.
A life without Lu Jingcheng felt cruel and terrifying.
He returned to his room, opened his computer, and typed “Lu Jingcheng” into the search bar. Results were chaotic—novel characters, bloggers—but none were the Lu Jingcheng he knew.
In this world, Lu Jingcheng did not exist.
He tried to accept it logically—after all, he had entered a book; Lu Jingcheng was a character from that story and would not exist in this reality.
But accepting it didn’t make it hurt any less.
Having once known a love as pure and sincere as Lu Jingcheng’s, Ye Qingyang felt he could never love another.
Especially since Jingcheng had been so possessive, so jealous.
Even if he was gone in this world, no one else could ever make him jealous.
Ye Qingyang sat in his chair, eyes watering. He grabbed a sheet of paper, pressed it to his eyes, then began to sketch Lu Jingcheng carefully.
The last time he had entered the book, he regretted not knowing how to draw. He could not depict his true self, his parents, or his sister for Lu Jingcheng.
So, during university, he learned to paint.
Now, he was immensely grateful for that decision. He could finally draw the boy he loved—the companion who had protected him all his life.
Each stroke was painstaking, yet somehow never quite right. He had drawn Jingcheng countless times before, even with his eyes closed. But now, it always felt off.
A pang of injustice tightened in his chest, and his eyes grew even more moist.
Ye Qingyuan’s gentle, surprised voice came from behind him: “Brother, why are you crying?”
Ye Qingyang wiped his tears and smiled at her. “Nothing, just a touching story.”
“How touching?”
“A couple promised to spend their lives together, and they did. Then one was reborn into another world without their love, so they were sad, missing their partner.”
Ye Qingyuan laughed. “Based on my reading experience, he’ll probably meet his love again—either both are reborn, or the lover doesn’t remember the past but will fall for him again. Bro, are you really crying just from reading the prologue?”
Ye Qingyang: …
He nodded vaguely, thinking: if it happens that way, then that’s enough.
“Go on out, next time knock before entering,” she instructed.
“Oh, so you really won’t eat?”
“No, not hungry.”
“Alright then.”
Ye Qingyang watched her leave, then focused again on drawing Lu Jingcheng.
He wrote notes beside the sketch:
- Jingcheng is possessive, gets jealous easily, cannot like anyone else—male or female.
- Jingcheng loves sweets, is tsundere, sometimes contradictory, occasionally stubborn, but soft-hearted.
- Jingcheng is picky with food—he won’t eat black fungus, dried bean curd, celery…
…
He meticulously recorded every detail, fearing that time would wash away the memories he cherished most.
He loved Lu Jingcheng and wanted no other lover. If separated forever, he would remember him always, just as he remembered his parents and sister.
Ye Qingyang’s parents returned late. Seeing them, he felt immense gratitude.
He had once thought he’d never see them again, yet here was another chance.
Ye Qingyang felt lucky—whether meeting Lu Jingcheng in the book or returning home to his family, he always gained something, even amidst loss.
He spent time chatting with his parents, absorbing the familiar warmth, silently wishing Lu Jingcheng were there to see it too.
At night, Ye Qingyang hesitated to close his eyes.
He feared sleeping and never waking again—or waking and returning to the other world.
He tried to picture Lu Jingcheng in his mind, hoping to meet him in dreams, even if only in that ephemeral space.
Eventually, he fell asleep, lost in thoughts of Lu Jingcheng, until the next morning, waking in his familiar room, unsure if he felt sadness or joy—this was his room, his world.
His phone rang—friends asking about which university he planned to apply to.
His grades were exceptional, the top in the province. Every teacher recommended Qingbei University.
His father leaned toward military or police academies, hoping his son would serve the people as he once had.
But Ye Qingyang knew his temperament didn’t suit regimented life. He preferred freedom, having once shared a university experience with Lu Jingcheng in another world.
They had held hands under trees, kissed in classrooms, pressed faces together while reading—so many shared memories.
Even if he went alone, he wanted to retrace those steps.
His father was slightly regretful but still prepared a full table of food, praising him while instructing Ye Qingyuan to learn from her brother.
Ye Qingyuan, used to such scenes, nodded perfunctorily while eating quickly.
The summer passed quickly, and in September, Ye Qingyang set off for City B with his parents and sister.
Ye Qingyuan whispered, “I’ll try to get into Peking University. Then our family will have one in Tsinghua and one in Peking—how nice that sounds!”
“You can do it,” Ye Qingyang said.
Ye Qingyuan smiled, then pouted. “Too bad you won’t be home. Dad will be stricter with me. Next time you return, I’ll be like a Red Army girl!”
Ye Qingyang patted her head. “Hard work ahead.”
Ye Qingyuan leaned against him, scheming escape plans.
After landing, they dropped luggage at the hotel before accompanying Ye Qingyang to register at the university.
The senior guiding him to the dorms led him upstairs. Ye Qingyang opened the door and felt a moment of disappointment.
Of course—the Tsinghua in the book was not the real Tsinghua. The dorm conditions differed, though both held the prestige of China’s top universities.
Regret bubbled up. He suddenly didn’t want to enter, didn’t want to study there.
So many memories with Lu Jingcheng tied to that campus… none of it could be recreated here.
Standing at the doorway, he hesitated.
Ye Qingyuan pushed his suitcase inside, noticing the name tags above the beds. Her eyes lit up. “Bro! What a coincidence! The bed next to yours is assigned to someone named Lu Jingcheng!”
Ye Qingyang: !!!
He rushed over, seeing those familiar three characters.
“Too bad it’s a boy. Otherwise, he’d be your dream lover—how romantic!”
Ye Qingyang smiled, softly: “Boys can be romantic too.”
“Romantic, yes, but still a pity.”
Ye Qingyuan’s mother, confused, asked what they were talking about.
“Talking about my brother’s dream lover,” Ye Qingyuan replied, laughing. “Once I went into his room and saw a piece of paper with just ‘Lu Jingcheng’ written all over it. I asked him who it was. He said it was his dream lover in a dream. I laughed, thinking he was silly—so many people liked him and he wouldn’t choose, yet he took his dream seriously. And now, he’s in the same dorm as my brother. Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“Too bad it’s a boy, or he could’ve been my sister-in-law.”
Ye Qingyang’s father joked, “Dreams are often opposite—maybe he’s your enemy.”
Ye Qingyang wasn’t offended. “Then I’ll just be nicer to him.”
“Nice to a boy? You’d be better off hitting him—that’d be more effective.”
Ye Qingyang thought: how could he bear to?
He looked at the name, sensing it must be Lu Jingcheng—the soft, possessive little peacock he had loved.
He unpacked and arranged his bed, waiting for Lu Jingcheng to arrive.
But Lu Jingcheng never came.
His father grew hungry, so Ye Qingyang went to eat with them.
Afterward, his mother and sister went shopping while Ye Qingyang remained absorbed in thoughts of Lu Jingcheng.
“I’ll go back to the dorm and meet my roommates first,” he said.
“You can’t stop thinking about your dream lover, huh?” Ye Qingyuan teased. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“You should go with Mom,” he said.
“Then take a photo of your dream lover for me later—I want to see if he’s handsome. If not, it’d be a waste of my feelings.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go then.” Ye Qingyuan waved.
“Listen to your mom, get along with your roommates. We’ll bring fruit back for you later.”
“Okay.”
Ye Qingyang watched his family leave and finally turned toward the dorm.
The closer he got, the faster his heartbeat, until he was practically running.
Joy and anxiety battled within him—he wanted to see his love but feared it might be a disappointment. He felt eighteen again, first love, shy and excited.
He reached the dorm, hurried up the stairs, and arrived at his room.
The door was slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open and saw someone with their back to him, playing on their phone.
Hearing the door, they turned. Their eyes met. Ye Qingyang’s smile blossomed like spring sunshine.
He approached, closing the door behind him. “Hi, I’m Ye Qingyang. I’m your roommate.”
Lu Jingcheng froze, staring at him. After a long pause, he asked, “Have we met somewhere before?”
An old song drifted in from outside.
“Where have I seen you before?
Your smile seems familiar
I can’t recall at once
Ah… in my dreams
In dreams, in dreams I’ve seen you
Sweet smiles so sweet
It’s you, it’s you, the one in my dreams is you”
Ye Qingyang laughed softly. “Probably in a dream.”