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When Ya Lanzhu was finally summoned over by Meng Fuyao's raucous shouting and unblocked her vital points, true enough, she had doubled up in laughter for a good half day, and after laughing she had patted her shoulder and said, ”I really have to say this, you're quite a scumbag, but you're really lucky.”

Meng Fuyao rolled her eyes at her as she watched Ya Lanzhu leave, her face still red from laughing. She hugged her knees and sat in the darkness alone, and after a long time, she heard a little sigh.

When the sky turned dark, she stood up and remembered that Yun Hen had gone drinking the previous night. This person clearly had no tolerance for alcohol, and after he came back, he had developed a fever, and till now he still couldn't get up. Hence, she made lotus eight treasures soup. Originally, she had only made one bowl, but thinking that the vicious doctor had also worked hard, she added more ingredients. Then, thinking that she shouldn't show favoritism since Ya Lanzhu had helped her out of her trouble and that Lord Yuan Bao liked sweet things, she unwillingly added more ingredients—as for who it was meant for? Who knew!?

She lugged the huge pot and went to each individual room personally, but Yun Hen was still asleep, looking uncomfortable as though he was having a nightmare. His breathing was soft and short, constantly getting disrupted as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Meng Fuyao put down the bowl and grabbed a towel to clean his sweat, but unexpectedly, he suddenly grabbed her hand.

Alarmed, Meng Fuyao immediately tugged her hand backward, but Yun Hen's grasp was extremely tight as though he was someone who was unable to swim, was drowning and had managed to grab onto a piece of driftwood. He even used inner energy, and Meng Fuyao could sense that his inner energy was unstable due to his nightmares. If she acted in haste and challenged his inner energy with her own, she might hurt him, so she could only remain motionless.

Just when she was feeling rather awkward in that position, Yun Hen suddenly pulled her down towards him. Meng Fuyao struggled desperately, twisting her body here and there trying to get up. From a certain angle, it looked as if Meng Fuyao and Yun Hen were doing something unspeakable.

The entire house was dark, and the moonlight only shone on a part of the house. Both of them were in the dark portion and in the silence, only a slightly rushed breathing could be heard. Meng Fuyao kept feeling like it was not appropriate, using her free hand to light a candle, but after grasping around for a long time, the candle fell onto the ground, and she could only sigh in defeat.

Yet, the person in the darkness suddenly brought her hand to his cheek and gently rubbed against it. Meng Fuyao stiffened and hastily tried to retract her hand only to hear Yun Hen murmur, ”… Mother…”

Meng Fuyao stopped moving as she heard him sigh softly, his warm breath against her breath, moist, and after the breath had passed, all that remained was a cool mist, as though it were the feelings of a long-buried past.

”… Mother, have you climbed out already? Have you climbed out already?”

What did that mean?

”You've pushed me out already… Why can't you climb out yourself…”

”All this dirt… It's so smelly…”

'Dirt?'

Meng Fuyao stiffened in the darkness as she watched a pale-faced Yun Hen flinch. This cool and quiet youth had always suppressed all his thoughts and feelings within his own heart, until yesterday when he met Yan Jingchen at the alley after drinking. Those long-buried feelings and memories began slowly resurfacing, starting from the moment Yan Jingchen called him ”Little Brother”. It was as though his memories had been summoned from the depths of his nightmares, stirring slowly and dragging him into the depths of his bloody and painful past.

'The mother who was buried alive… The mother had pushed out her son… Was it like that? Was it like that?'

Meng Fuyao's fingers started trembling. She had guessed the story of Yun Hen's birth before as for why an honorable family like the Yan Clan would abandon their own flesh and blood and become the enemy's adopted son, there must have been some unspeakable past. Yet she had never imagined that it would be this tragic.

Her trembling fingers were caught by Yun Hen, as though he had sensed her thoughts through the slight trembling, He held on even tighter onto her hands, his five fingers locked around her own as he mumbled, ”I'll pull you up… I'll pull you up…” Suddenly, he gave a powerful tug.

Meng Fuyao was still thunderstruck by Yun Hen's past and was caught unaware as her body jerked forwards and she fell onto Yun Hen's chest. Yun Hen immediately hugged her tightly.

Meng Fuyao immediately struggled to get up when she suddenly heard some movement from behind. She turned around only to realize—

Zhangsun Wuji was standing right by the door, watching her intently.

Lying awkwardly on Yun Hen's chest, Meng Fuyao smiled sheepishly at the ”hero”.

Zhangsun Wuji's face was expressionless as though he were stuck in the darkness of a dream. Upon seeing Meng Fuyao's sheepish smile, his eyebrows shot up wordlessly.

Following that, he pushed open the door and walked towards them. He glanced at their intimate position, then at Yun Hen, then pointed at Meng Fuyao and chastised, ”Why are you still lying on him, do you really want him to have nightmares about being pressed down by dirt?”

Meng Fuyao glared at him tearfully as she thought, 'This person really is one of a kind at insulting people, what am I, dirt? I'm the most beautiful dirt in the world…'

Slowly, she removed herself from Yun Hen's grasp, but just as she managed to extricate herself, Yun Hen immediately flailed his arms desperately trying to grab her again.

Zhangsun Wuji reached out and tapped his vital point as he pulled Meng Fuyao to one side, saying, ”You've already sent him the soup, cleaned his sweat, and even let him hug you. Is it my turn to drink some soup now?”