She called for a servant to bring a bath tub and hot water, and after each of them had finished bathing in their rooms, the night had already grown deep.

Miss Duan lay alone on her bed, utterly troubled.

It wasn’t that she was heartless or indifferent to Qiu Huan. Right now, the only person she could truly rely on was herself; whether for her own sake or for her brothers’, keeping Qiu Huan safe came first—especially since she genuinely, deeply cared for him. Duan Yunhe knew she tended to be fickle, easily forgetting what she’d once set her mind on as soon as something new caught her eye. Back at Caitan Lou, it had been the same: with all the novel sights and experiences of the pleasure quarters, her playful curiosity had temporarily overwhelmed her concern about Qiu Huan’s injury in her dream.

Still, even though she’d momentarily forgotten about it, Qiu Huan hadn’t actually come to harm—not because of her warning, anyway. Logically speaking, she should have felt relieved. But then Duan Yunhe learned in her dream about the “butterfly effect”: even the tiniest change can ripple through events. So just how much would her own enormous variable alter the course of both her life and Qiu Huan’s?

Since she was nine, that strange dream had haunted her—but rather than fear, she felt mostly pride. Thanks to those dreams, she believed she was different from everyone else. Though others couldn’t understand her, she felt all the more special because of it.

In truth, she had been hiding something from Qiu Huan. It was true she hadn’t had that dream for half a year, but the very first time she dreamed of the story in the book—the very life they were living now—it hadn’t been six months ago. That year, when she was fourteen, her father returned in triumph, and Duan Yunhe dreamed for the first time of her present self—albeit in the book—and her brothers, without Father or Mother. She found it odd, but didn’t think much of it until her father was murdered, her mother passed away one after another, and then a series of other events unfolded. Only then did she realize that every single character in the book had met an untimely end!

Yet her parents were gone forever, and this ability had brought her nothing but pain ever since. She’d tried hard, struggled desperately, but almost everything she did seemed futile; her life kept moving closer and closer to the plot of the book.

Six months ago, she dreamed of the ending for her and her brothers—a fate she absolutely refused to accept. After waking up in a panic, she frantically pieced together the clues and finally remembered that the book mentioned an item someone had left at her home. It seemed that her brothers had gotten into trouble precisely because of that object, which had drawn them into a major entanglement and landed them in prison. She secretly went home, found the item, and slipped out of town that very night, determined to return it to its rightful owner.

Sure enough, she hadn’t miscalculated.

After meeting Qiu Huan, the long-absent dream took on a new twist. Before, she hadn’t known who Ming Zhen was—perhaps he hadn’t been a central figure in the original book, or maybe… but none of that mattered. Since the world around Qiu Huan was quietly changing, surely she wouldn’t end up in such a dire situation either?

Still, her dream—perhaps it could be called a prophetic dream, since it wasn’t achieved through any special power—left Duan Yunhe uncertain about just how far it could go. For instance, today, thanks to her, Qiu Huan hadn’t been hurt, yet for some reason an undercurrent of unease lingered in her heart, as if something was bound to happen. Could the person who injured Qiu Huan take further action?

Thinking of this, Miss Duan couldn’t help but get up and go check on Qiu Huan.

Just then, however, the door that had clearly been locked suddenly swung open, and a figure darted inside. Duan Yunhe gasped in shock and was about to cry out.

“Shh, be quiet,” the newcomer said, clearly taken aback that she wasn’t asleep after all, and hurriedly covered her mouth. Duan Yunhe’s heart was still pounding, but when she heard the familiar voice, she blinked in confusion.

“It’s me,” Qiu Huan said, lowering his hand and patting her on the back to calm her down.

Only then did Duan Yunhe recover, letting out a long sigh, and complained to Qiu Huan, “Fengze, you scared me half to death! Why did you just barge in like that?” She turned to look at him. But Qiu Huan’s expression was grave, a stark contrast to his usual gentle, charming smile. It wasn’t exactly stern, but Duan Yunhe, so used to seeing him smile, felt distinctly uncomfortable, and immediately fell silent upon seeing that look. Qiu Huan, on the other hand, had noticed her unusual behavior, but the situation was too delicate right now to dwell on it.

End of Chapter 12: Where Has Bai Ling Gone?