Chapter 63: Like a Dream (3)

“Damn it, it’s always the same—just as I start to ask, I wake up, and not even the tiniest detail gets through!” Ye Lang jerked awake from his dream, cursing aloud, though by now it had become almost a ritual for him.

What did he do next? Of course, he simply went back to sleep. But this time, the girl did not appear; his slumber was dreamless until dawn. This had been going on for about three years. At first, Ye Lang paid it little mind—he merely talked with the girl, treating it as nothing more than a dream.

Back then, he even thought she was the embodiment of Tiger Girl, who had left during that period. He supposed it was just a case of thinking about someone in the day and dreaming of them at night. But later, he realized that wasn’t the case. Whenever he woke, he forgot what the girl looked like—this never changed. That was why he couldn’t grasp the meaning of the dream, nor could he be sure if the girl was a real person.

Yet he was certain she was not Tiger Girl, for he knew Tiger Girl too well, and there was nothing about the dream girl that reminded him of her. He dismissed the idea quickly. Although he always forgot the girl’s features upon waking, every time he entered the dream he could recognize her at once, remembering her face with perfect clarity. This, too, puzzled him.

When he finally noticed something odd, Ye Lang began to probe for the girl’s identity. But every time she tried to answer, the dream would abruptly end. Even the slightest hint or indirect question would break the spell, as if the dream were protected by a lock, barring even the smallest breach and terminating itself if the boundary was crossed.

Helpless, Ye Lang decided to leave things as they were, chatting with the girl about random topics each night, no longer caring who she really was. In truth, he had no choice; unless he stopped sleeping altogether, he would always meet her in his dreams. Of course, he could force the dream to end by asking about her identity, ensuring a dreamless night.

But he rarely did so. He enjoyed conversing with the girl in his dreams and, when tired, would simply sleep—yes, sleep within a dream. Such a thing, perhaps, only he would think to do: to sleep inside a dream. And when the girl asked about his identity, the dream would end just as abruptly. It seemed this dream bound the two together, yet refused to let them learn anything about each other.

Whether the girl truly existed—no, whether she existed in this world at all—remained a mystery. The whole affair was so strange that Ye Lang never spoke of it to anyone. The dream and the girl within it were secrets known only to him. Perhaps it was a special kind of spiritual connection, linking two people from different places, or even different times and spaces, allowing them to meet in dreams. Perhaps the girl was nothing more than a figment of his subconscious—a dream spirit born from his own mind.

Regardless, once awake, Ye Lang put the matter from his mind, treating it as nothing more than a passing dream. When, or if, the mystery would ever be solved was up to fate. Perhaps the answer would come soon—or perhaps it would remain hidden for a lifetime.

The next day, Ye Lanyu came early as usual to drag Ye Lang to the academy. Their routine was unchanged. Not only did the two of them go to school as they always did, but everyone else seemed to treat Ye Lang’s return as unremarkable, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

This wasn’t because anyone had told them to keep quiet, but because they were simply used to it—used to Ye Lang making a splash and then vanishing again. The classroom was as noisy as ever.

“Ye Lang?!” When he appeared at the door, the room went silent for a moment, everyone pausing in surprise. Of course, it lasted only a moment.

“Ye Lang, welcome back…” Soon, a few quick-witted girls clustered around, greeting him with effusive warmth—so much so that it felt a bit over the top, quite unlike the past.

“Oh, thank you.” Ye Lang nodded politely, not realizing the girls seemed to have something to ask of him.

As his classmates, they naturally behaved differently from others. They didn’t pretend nothing had happened; they always gossiped a bit, sometimes even chatting with Ye Lang himself—especially now.

Zhen Xiaoyan’s sudden transformation—her newfound beauty and charm—left them all eager to curry favor with Ye Lang. Of course, many others felt the same way. Had Ye Lang not been holed up at home during the height of the commotion, he would have been “drowned” by waves of admirers countless times.

Now, the excitement had faded, and most had backed off, deterred by Zhen Xiaoyan’s drastic methods. Only a few diehards and those with other motives remained—and among these, few could actually approach Ye Lang, so he was spared much trouble.

After entering the classroom, Ye Lang walked straight to Zhen Xiaoyan’s side and sat in the lone empty seat beside her—a spot that stood out in the crowded room.

Why did it stand out? The reason was simple: while every other seat was taken and the area was packed with people, this single seat remained conspicuously vacant.

Naturally, the cause of the crowd was Zhen Xiaoyan. She was not as she once had been—before, few people sat near her, apart from her close friends or Ye Lang, who liked a quiet place. Now, Zhen Xiaoyan was adored by all; the men needed no explanation, and even the women approached her with their own agendas.

Zhen Xiaoyan took all this in stride, just as before—neither proud nor annoyed. This composure was one of her best qualities, and the one Ye Lang admired most.

That empty seat had never existed before; it appeared today because she knew Ye Lang would be coming to the academy, and she naturally saved him the best spot, right by her side.

At first, some were puzzled, but she never explained; she was far too shy to admit it was reserved for Ye Lang. The very thought brought a blush to her cheeks.

Of course, that only made her more charming and adorable.

Now, everyone understood—the seat was for him.