Chapter 38

*A Spring Dream*
Zhu Yu rarely had a good dream.
Usually she fell, or ran in panic, or mixed strange adventures—waking with scraps of dream left her exhausted.
She hated dreaming, especially as a child again.
This time she walked soft snow and knew clearly: dream. Nothing in the waste but her footprints.
No—thin rose on the wind.
Pheromones were strange: link a person to a scent, and similar smell brings expectation.
She was waiting.
Even as the last frame was Mother’s scolding back and a closed door—warm bed became empty snow.
Dreams never obey reason.
Doctor Mother had been strict—almost no candy, bad for health.
That was Zhu Yu’s own excuse.
Much of childhood was forgotten. Mother busy, sometimes no dinner left. Little Zhu Yu searched the house, found nothing, drank water.
Hungry tongue turned bitter; she craved sweet.
Imagination was poor—no cake, chocolate, macaron. Everything looked edible.
Soap sweet and astringent, like stale rice cake—bite and drink water, bubbles. Bad. Beatings if caught.
Sun should taste orange; what about orange gummies? Roses smelled delicious, soft on the cheek—too pretty to eat—
Rose scent thickened.
A pale slender hand—red mole on the wrist—offered a sugar cube.
Zhu Yu took the white square, rolled it on her tongue. Sweetness flooded her chest; slow steps turned light.
Brows curved—as if she had known Bai Shuzhou would come, as if a stone had finally fallen.
Bai Shuzhou pinched her cheek. Cool voice, patient correction. “Rock sugar is not eaten like that. Too sweet—you’ll rot teeth. Put it in coffee and stir slowly.”
Fingertip brushed her lip, tried to pinch open her mouth to take the cube back.
The tiny sugar was locked in her teeth. Stubborn Zhu Yu would not yield—in the tug she bit the finger too.
Cold. Soft. Rose.
Bai Shuzhou frowned; pressure dropped. Pride resisted intimacy—especially surprised, finger wet, child fangs on her pad.
Zhu Yu nibbled twice, slow to realize Bai Shuzhou was angry. She looked up guilty into pale blue.
“Sister… you’re sweeter than candy…”
Timid. Bold.
The jade finger drew a silver thread; a small dent where teeth had pressed, faintly moist.
Bai Shuzhou hooked a smile—light—and sweetness on her tongue melted, syrup dripping drop by drop.
Her heart seemed brushed by feathers.
Zhu Yu lowered her face, hands behind her back, afraid to look—ashamed of wanting in a dream.
Yet fingertip touched her lip again, stroked.
Then brow, nose, sliding down, pinching breath still new to her.
Mm…
Outside the dream Bai Shuzhou pinched Zhu Yu’s nose.
Awake—Zhu Yu too close. Two pillows yet she had burrowed onto Bai Shuzhou’s. Huge bed shrunk. Black hair on white quilt—fluffy puppy.
Bai Shuzhou ran cold; Zhu Yu warmer. Together the gap was obvious.
Sweat thin on the arm Zhu Yu hugged.
Hot.
Who let her sleep here?
Bai Shuzhou frowned to push her away—she did not accommodate others—but the sleeping face was defenseless, fully open.
Brow lifted. Oh—they were married. Bed partners.
Just sleep. Normal.
Is this how they slept?
Hand raised, lowered. Warm even breath on lashes; cold face softened a fraction.
No one refused such an obedient doll.
Made you want to tease.
She pinched Zhu Yu’s cheek—soft, a little thin, not as plush as imagined.
Touched her lip—softer, fuller—a soft “pop” when squeezed.
Half propped, Bai Shuzhou found a new toy—angle changed, sounds like a fish blowing bubbles.
Play too long; lips reddened, kissable.
Her own kisses were skilled, dominant—yet Zhu Yu’s sudden closeness tingled sharper, current from lip to heart.
Spirit gift made kissing more tempting—cruel cold power, yet incredible.
Zhu Yu had magic that quieted time.
As if they had held hands through fog—could not see, but “presence” was enough.
In her daze sleeping Zhu Yu opened mouth and gently bit her fingertip.
“……”
Strange tingle spread.
Bai Shuzhou focused—Zhu Yu truly slept, no gift active. Why did her heart still jump?
Sharp little canines on soft pad. Omega sensitivity—light pressure, teeth clenched, arm weak.
Body memory beat brain—flash: those teeth elsewhere, grazing, shiver, suppressed breath, fist in black hair.
Soft in her arms: “Sister…”
Bai Shuzhou snapped back, withdrew wet finger, ears hot.
Zhu Yu slept on, sweet smile on her lips.
Damn—this wretch bit her while sleeping.
Calm Bai Shuzhou lost composure; Zhu Yu only slept.
Not obedient at all.
Measuring gaze—distance too close—pride found comfort.
Zhu Yu did it on purpose.
Rumors: gentle, flirtatious, small tricks normal.
Pretending sleep?
Fingertip on brow, nose, pinching too hot noisy breath so she would not enchant further.
Pinch nose—feigners open mouth. Zhu Yu’s face reddened, “mm-mm,” like a beached fish. Eyes opened blank.
Mermaid ashore.
First sight: sapphire eyes flickering.
Lip bitten, nose pink, face still cold as if nothing mattered.
Seeing Zhu Yu awake—satisfied, a little guilty—could not explain what she had been doing.
Too childish. Pinch nose to wake her?
Why explain—she was the empire’s princess.
Princess closed eyes, leaned on pillow, pretended sleep with dignity.
Zhu Yu watched lashes flutter, blinked, touched nose—still cool from Bai Shuzhou.
Huh—not a dream?
Where did dream end—hard to tell.
Daylight. She had slept deep—thought if Feng’s people carried her out she would sneak back to guard unconscious Bai Shuzhou.
She had memorized this floor’s layout.
That flash of smile had been wicked—not her usual distant cold.
Felt like the real Bai Shuzhou, mask off. Zhu Yu grinned silent.
She swore she made no sound—but Bai Shuzhou opened eyes, thin shame on her cheeks deepening.
“Zhu Yu!” Low rough magnetic voice.
Light outside; time flew; they whispered here as if nothing else mattered.
Here. She swallowed the word. For balance she should say a name.
But “Bai Shuzhou” was longer than “Zhu Yu”—more distance, less intimate.
Shuzhou clunky. Xiao Zhou—Bai Qianze used that. No. She wanted a name only hers.
“Zhou.” One syllable, shy smile. Bai Shuzhou’s lashes flicked—surprise, tacit yes, novelty, hope.
Silence both.
Emboldened Zhu Yu said again—soft as pearls from a mermaid—“Zhou… Zhou—”
One whisper, one name—eyes farther than sound—hearts raced—lips pressed—drew near.
She had studied guides—high EQ, hand-holding, kissing—real closeness was natural, not driven by thought.
Bodies pulled together.
Brain that held mechanical drawings and thousands of parts—empty.
One shout inside:
My first love! Married first, love after!!
Too slow.
Bai Shuzhou, eyes closed waiting, frowned at Zhu Yu’s stalled silly grin—unbearable—leaned in and bit her.