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Awakened by a nightmare, Song Jinhe lay on her bed, eyes wide, a chill running through her entire body.

*Enjoyment...*
*Broken engagement...*

Song Jinhe sat up abruptly, her face etched with fury. Even though it was merely a dream, even though nothing of the sort had truly happened, Zhu Mingxuan’s words still made her blood boil. Who was that man, and what depraved schemes was Zhu Mingxuan hatching? To think he had actually said he had waited for this day for such a long time!

When Zhu Mingxuan had first approached Song Ning to ask for Song Jinhe’s hand in marriage, he had worn a completely different face. Song Jinhe had never pondered whether she and Zhu Mingxuan were a good match, nor did she understand if the familiarity between them constituted true romantic love. However, Zhu Mingxuan was no stranger; he was her cousin, someone she had known for over a decade. When Song Ning had asked for her thoughts, Song Jinhe had not hesitated much. She did not dislike Zhu Mingxuan, and she wished to use this marriage as a means to return to the capital. Marrying him was not an arduous task; if he could treat her well, she was willing to accept him as her husband.

After agreeing to the betrothal, Song Jinhe traveled back to the capital with the Zhu family. Along the way, their relationship seemed unchanged. Zhu Mingxuan treated her with the same gentle attentiveness he had shown in their youth, and as he grew older, he became even more mature and steady—seemingly destined to be a good husband. Because of this, Song Jinhe had cast aside the strange, fragmented dreams she experienced on the road, even feeling a touch of guilt toward him, which led her to temper her own moods when they met.

Yet, the joy of returning to the capital after so long had occupied her mind, leaving little space for her to focus on Zhu Mingxuan. If he initiated a meeting and she was in a good mood, she would agree to see him. If he did not appear, she rarely thought of him, let alone took the initiative to seek him out. Furthermore, even before she had ever dreamed of Sheng Congyuan, Song Jinhe had harbored private thoughts: although they were betrothed, if Zhu Mingxuan showed any signs of impropriety, she could easily have her parents call off the engagement. She would never allow herself to be wronged.

But this dream implied that even as the wedding date approached, she had not sought to break the engagement; rather, it was Zhu Mingxuan who harbored malicious intent, planning to frame her. Song Jinhe could not imagine the position she would be in if, with the wedding near, she were to be toyed with by Zhu Mingxuan and then discarded. Was this a dream, or was it a glimpse of the future?

No matter how frequently those disjointed dreams had appeared before, Song Jinhe had been unable to view them as reality. But the terrifying conspiracy in last night’s dream made it impossible for her to dismiss it as mere nonsense, yet she could find no reason or evidence to substantiate it. How could she prove something that had not yet happened?

A chill crept up her spine, and her heartbeat grew erratic. She recalled that the first time she had such a strange dream was the very day she agreed to the engagement. Looking back, these dreams felt as if they were telling a story, or perhaps warning her to see the reality before it was too late. If the dreams were true, she could not let herself fall into such a trap. If they were false, the seeds of distrust had already been sown, and she could never be as close to him as before.

The limited clues left her thoughts in a muddle. Yet, she knew that in any case, this engagement with Zhu Mingxuan could not continue. Deep down, she was beginning to suspect that these events might truly come to pass. Even if the scenes in her dreams were absurd and outrageous, the fact that she kept having them surely meant there was a cause.

*

Song Jinhe had just finished her morning toilette with the help of her maid when she heard noise outside her courtyard.

"Who is there?" she asked, turning her head.

Mingqiu hurried to the door to check. "Miss, it is the Second Young Master who has arrived."

Soon, the sound of Song Xiao teasing An'an in the courtyard drifted into the room. Song Jinhe frowned—not because she was annoyed by Song Xiao’s visit, but because her mind was still heavy with the remnants of last night's dream.

The door opened, and Song Xiao turned at the sound. "Oh? I thought I’d be waiting a while for you, yet you’re already up?"

As he spoke, An'an, who had been sitting calmly under Song Xiao’s hand, suddenly darted away, bolting toward Song Jinhe on all fours.

Song Jinhe crouched down to catch the dog in her arms before asking, "I woke up early today. What are you here for?"

Normally, Song Jinhe would have lingered in bed, but last night’s nightmare had jolted her awake, leaving no chance for further sleep.

Song Xiao grinned cheekily. "Can’t I come to my little sister’s courtyard to sit for no reason?"

"Save it. You never visit without a motive. Say what you have to say."

Song Xiao rubbed his nose, deciding not to beat around the bush. He pulled Song Jinhe to sit by the stone table and went straight to the point. "Little sister, help me out this once. Consider it a favor you’re owed. If you ever need my help, I’ll be at your beck and call in return. How about that?"

Song Jinhe gave him a flat look. "If I don't help you, you’re already at my beck and call—and not just once."

Song Xiao: "..."

"What is it that brings you here so early? What do you need help with?"

Song Xiao flashed another smile. "Heh, I knew my little sister was the best." He paused, his smile fading as he spoke: "Our eldest brother is coming home for a meal today."

Song Jinhe was stunned. Song Ning had returned to the capital in the first half of the month. He had originally had no intention of returning for years, which was why Song Jinhe had agreed to the engagement with Zhu Mingxuan last year and returned to the capital first. She never expected that in just a few months, the court would descend into turmoil, and Song Ning would be urgently recalled by the Emperor. Looking back, if she had known this would happen, she would have waited a few more months and spared herself the trouble of getting tangled with a pest like Zhu Mingxuan.

Song Xiao, unaware of her inner turmoil, continued, "But I was supposed to go to the woodshop today. You don't know this, but that young master from the Sheng family has ordered another large batch of dummies, and he needs them urgently. My master said the shop couldn't keep up and asked for my help. I can't defy my master’s orders, but with our eldest brother coming home, I can't find an excuse to leave. One look from him and I start trembling. If my excuse is seen through, I’m done for."

Song Jinhe was lost in thought. According to the guidance of her dreams, she should break the engagement with Zhu Mingxuan as soon as possible. But she had no evidence and no suitable reason. To bring up a breakup out of the blue would likely be rejected by both Song Ning and Song Qingcang. Yet, this was the key to proving whether these dreams were real. If these things were truly meant to happen, she should be able to find traces of them now.

"Little sister? Little sister?" Song Xiao called out repeatedly. "Help me!"

Song Jinhe snapped back to reality, having not heard a word he said. "What did you say?"

Song Xiao curled his lip and repeated quickly, "That young master from the Sheng family! Sheng Congyuan! He ordered another batch of dummies!"

Song Jinhe: "..."

Asking him to repeat himself only led to him mentioning Sheng Congyuan again. She couldn't help but inwardly grumble: no wonder he was so physically fit. How long had it been since the last order? He had already destroyed that many dummies again. Was he doing nothing but tormenting those dummies all day?

Tormenting dummies was fine, she thought—at least it was better than him invading her dreams at night.

As Song Jinhe remained briefly silent, Song Xiao urged her again, "My good little sister, will you help me or not?"

"How do you want me to help?"

"After lunch, just say you want to take An'an out for a stroll. As your attendant, I’ll naturally have to follow to protect you. Doesn't that solve it?"

*

Since she had agreed to Song Xiao’s request, Song Jinhe decided to take the opportunity to invite Zhu Mingxuan out to probe him. She was not slow-witted; she had simply been indifferent before. If she observed him carefully now, she might easily spot the flaws in his mask.

After the meal, Song Jinhe followed her plan and successfully left the manor with An'an and Song Xiao, but her servants reported that Zhu Mingxuan was nowhere to be found at the Zhu estate today. Song Jinhe’s suspicions deepened, and she felt a surge of unease.

Song Xiao rode in Song Jinhe’s carriage toward the woodshop, still nervous about the meal earlier. "Thank goodness no one brought up my business. If our eldest brother had been there, I’d be terrified that he would see right through my work at the shop. That really scared me."

Song Jinhe cast him a sidelong glance. "Who cares about your trivial matters? It's always the same thing."

"Don't say that. Even if it is trivial, they never let up. Now, because your marriage is the biggest priority, they don't have time to bother with me."

Mentioning the engagement she no longer wanted, her expression darkened. Song Jinhe moved her lips, unable to suppress the emotion she had hidden at the table: "Second brother, if I wanted to break off the engagement with Zhu Mingxuan, do you think Mother, Father, and Eldest Brother would agree?"

"Of course..." Song Xiao paused, his eyes widening in shock. "Break the engagement? You want to break off your engagement with Zhu Mingxuan? Why?"

Song Jinhe pursed her lips. "No reason. I just don't want to marry him anymore."

Song Xiao struggled to keep his voice down, his mouth hanging open for a long time before he managed to speak again. "Don't just have random thoughts. Marriage is a major life event; it's not a game."

Song Jinhe frowned. How could she not know that? It was precisely because she lacked evidence and a valid reason that even the simple-minded Song Xiao thought she was talking nonsense—let alone her parents and eldest brother.

During their conversation, the carriage arrived at the woodshop. Song Jinhe chased him out: "Go. I’ll only wait two hours. If you aren't out in two hours, I’m heading home by myself."

"Fine, fine, I’ll definitely leave with you. Two hours, I promise." Before leaving, Song Xiao stopped and turned back. "But little sister, if you really don't want to marry Zhu Mingxuan, I believe you must have your reasons. I can't decide this for you, but I will definitely stand by your side."

Song Jinhe was stunned, her gaze wavering. She was silent for a moment, then lowered her eyes and whispered, "I know. Just go."

Song Xiao grinned and climbed out of the carriage.

*

Song Jinhe took the carriage to a wide open space by the river in the east of the city.

It was a grassy area that had been meticulously maintained, bordering a natural forest further inland. Because it was somewhat remote, no houses had been built there, keeping it as a natural landscape for the enjoyment of the teahouse patrons on the other side of the river.

Since returning to the capital, Song Jinhe had brought An'an here twice. The spacious lawn allowed the dog to roll around freely, and because few people visited, she didn't have to worry about An'an frightening others or being frightened.

Today, she had two hours to kill while waiting for Song Xiao. After getting off the carriage, she smiled warmly at An'an. "Go on, have a good run today."

An'an truly did run wild. The servants stayed by the riverbank while Song Jinhe lifted her skirts and chased after the dog toward the center of the lawn. An'an loved this grass, so excited that it wouldn't stop for a moment, leaving Song Jinhe breathless from chasing it.

"Wait, An'an, wait!" Song Jinhe gasped, calling out, but receiving no response. She should have brought more servants to help her exercise the dog; then she wouldn't be this exhausted.

She stopped and looked back toward the riverbank. Without realizing it, she had wandered quite far with An'an. The carriage by the river had shrunk into a blurry shadow, and the servants around it were no longer visible. Song Jinhe sighed, resolving to bring help next time.

She turned back, and her eyes widened—An'an was gone.

"An'an! An'an!" she shouted. There was no response, not even the rustle of a small dog running through the grass. A wave of panic washed over her, and she instinctively looked toward the nearby forest. She didn't think twice; since the dog wasn't on the open lawn, it had to have run into the woods.

"An'an! An'an!" Song Jinhe ran into the forest, calling out and scanning the area.

Suddenly, a flash of white fur darted past the vibrant green trees. It vanished behind the chaotic tree trunks. Song Jinhe fixed her gaze and sprinted in that direction, her voice growing louder. "An'an!"

The warm afternoon sun pierced through the dense branches and leaves, casting dappled light. As Song Jinhe hurried through the forest, a figure suddenly appeared in her line of sight: Sheng Congyuan.

He sat beneath a tree, his legs crossed, and looked up in surprise at the sound of her voice. An'an was curled up in his arms. The black silk of his clothes and his dark hair were bathed in a soft light, inexplicably softening the cold, stern aura he usually possessed. The white puppy snuggled against him, unusually unafraid of a stranger. The tiny dog looked even more miniature in his arms, not even half the size of his forearm.

Song Jinhe stared, her eyes locking with Sheng Congyuan’s deep, dark gaze. His large, round eyes were bright and filled with a sudden, joyful radiance, much like a dog called by its master. He and the puppy looked at her in unison. His voice trembled slightly. "You... who were you calling?"

"I was calling it," Song Jinhe said, her finger moving from his face to point directly at the dog. "My dog. Her name is An'an."