“Lei Jin?” Chunji’s voice cut through the haze as he peered past Xiya to where Moya cradled Lei Jin.

“What happened this time?” Chunji rubbed his temples in exasperation. Of the ten times he’d seen Lei Jin, eight involved injuries.

“Chunji, please check Mingya and Lei Jin. Both are hurt,” Xiya said, still in his golden leopard form after carrying Mingya’s massive beast body back to the tribe.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The strange old man in black robes chuckled. “Still don’t trust me? I told you they’re fine.”

“Wrapped up like a weirdo, who’d trust you? I almost didn’t recognize you.” Chunji dragged a stool over for him. “This damn old man may be useless otherwise, but his medical skills are reliable.”

“As expected, you know me well, brat.”

“You’re sure they’re okay?” Chunji still asked in a whisper, unable to hide his concern.

The old man’s smug expression vanished, replaced by irritation from Chunji’s words. He huffed, “The female just needs rest. As for the young werebeast—he’ll keep his life, but lose a leg. That’s more than they deserve for venturing where they shouldn’t.”

“Mingya’s leg?” Lei Jin’s vision swam at the words. He struggled free of Moya’s hold.

“I warned you—that place is cursed. Surviving was luck enough.”

“But you said you could save him!” Xiya protested.

“I said I’d save his life, not his leg.” The old man rolled his eyes at their gloomy faces. Ungrateful whelps. That female could barely stand yet still putting on a strong front for who knows what.

Chunji wordlessly peeled the herbs from Mingya’s wounds and his brows immediately furrowed. “You finally went to the forbidden area? And took Mingya with you?”

Under Chunji’s fierce glare, Lei Jin nodded.

“You actually gathered all three black jade stones?” Chunji had been certain Lei Jin couldn’t find the key stones to open the Door of Reincarnation. Originally eight circular jades, four had been taken away, leaving four on this continent—each split into three pieces scattered among twelve tribes. To open the door required not just any three pieces, but three from the same original jade. The difficulty was unimaginable. Or perhaps, Lei Jin only went there but didn’t manage to open the door…

“He opened it,” the old man interjected, knowing what Chunji was pondering.

“Then why—” Chunji meant why was Lei Jin still here? After being so desperate to leave.

“How should I know?”

“Chunji, Mingya’s injury—” Lei Jin cut in. He didn’t understand how Chunji knew about the jades—even Roger had only speculated—but Mingya’s leg mattered more.

Chunji’s anger softened at his anxious concern. He could only sigh helplessly. “Remember when I warned you never to go there?”

Lei Jin did—back when he was recovering. But he could think of nothing but leaving back then so he’d ignored the advice.

“Taking Mingya there was practically sending him to die.” Chunji examined the wounds. “I can’t explain fully, but those creatures you met? The half-human, half-beast monsters? They are the werebeasts who went missing from various tribes.”

Lei Jin recoiled. Those horrors—former werebeasts? Even Xiya and Moya, who’d fought them, looked stunned.

“Mingya was bitten. To survive, one either stays in the forbidden area as a mindless monster or return to die. Without my master, even I couldn’t have saved him. Be grateful he’s alive—this is no exaggeration.”

Silence fell.

The old man opened his mouth, but Chunji silenced him with a glare.

A baby’s cry shattered the quiet.

Chunji groaned. “I forgot about this little terror. Damn old man, come check him.”

“Chunji, is there really no hope for Mingya’s leg?” Lei Jin ignored the pang the cries evoked.

“Full recovery? Impossible. But I’ll try to get him healed to the point he can walk.”

“That’s enough.” More would be greed.

Lei Jin had never seen Roger cry before—silent sobs that spoke volumes. Yet Roger never blamed him. Neither did An Sen or An Luo. They even spoke words of comfort to him.

With Mingya still asleep and Xiya and Moya distant, Lei Jin wondered if he still belonged here. He’d grown too comfortable in this home that wasn’t truly his. But with Mingya injured, leaving wasn’t an option.

He sat by Mingya’s bed, kissing his eyelids. “If you can’t walk, I’ll feed you. I can hunt, gather, farm—maybe even build a house for us. So wake up soon.”

“Then you’re really staying?” Mingya’s whisper startled him.

Lei Jin’s heart leaped. “You’re awake!”

Mingya’s blue eyes fluttered open, drowsy but clear. “You won’t leave? You’ll stay with Mingya?”

“Yes. When did you wake?”

“When you said you’d build us a house.”

“Convenient timing.” Lei Jin ruffled the fur on his belly.

“What about Eldest Brother and Second Brother?” Mingya asked timidly. Lei Jin hadn’t mentioned elder brother and second brother earlier.

“Them? We’ll see.” Lei Jin yawned, carefully shifting Mingya aside to climb in. “Sleep now. Tomorrow, we’ll change your bandages at Chunji’s.”

“En.” Mingya curled a paw around Lei Jin’s waist, pretending to be cool about it.

Lei Jin turned onto his side but didn’t protest.

Mingya’s heart soared. He lets me touch him now! And we even sleep together!

As for Xiya and Moya… Lei Jin gazed into the dark. He’d wronged them first. Their coldness was deserved. But with Mingya like this, he couldn’t leave. If reconciling meant accepting all three… Could he really do that?

Lei Jin closed his eyes and thought for a while. The loneliness and coldness of being alone in the dream came to his mind again. Forget it. Maybe he would have considered it for a long time before, but after waking up, he understood a lot. In fact, many things were not as important as he imagined. Compared with loss, it was more important for everyone to be happy together. He liked Moya, and he knew this. As for Xiya, the feelings were much more complicated. He couldn’t explain it clearly, but he knew it was hard to give up. Such a handsome and smart person, it was rare to be confused. Let’s just live like this in this life. Lei Jin was very good at comforting himself.

But first, he wanted his own house—a place no one could take from him. Not that he distrusted them, but equal standing mattered. He might not be able to compare to them physically, but he wanted them to know that without them he could still do well on his own.

Content with this decision, Lei Jin slept.

“You can still sleep? Guess we weren’t obvious enough. Once things are less busy, see if we don’t punish you.” Xiya began fiercely, but towards the end actually started smiling. Being mean to this person? Even he didn’t believe it. But there was still a way for everyone to be happy and punish Lei Jin at the same time, a wicked grin appeared on Xiya’s face.

“How about we do you until you can’t even get out of bed. See if you can run then?” He nipped Lei Jin’s nose.

“Brother? What are you doing?” Moya stood in the doorway, looking at Xiya’s weird crouching position by the bed.

“Oh, I came to see if the two of them kicked the blanket.” Xiya was caught by his own brother. He looked embarrassed and scratched his head to cover up. After thinking for a while, he came up with this excuse on the spur of the moment.

In order to show that this was the case, Xiya actually pressed down the corner of the blanket. He was the one who had vowed to Moya that he would never forgive Lei Jin easily when he came back. He didn’t expect that he would turn out to be first in being unable to help himself. He was determined not to let Moya know, otherwise how could he maintain his image as the eldest brother?

“So that’s how it is.” Moya nodded seriously.

“Okay, it’s getting late, let’s go to bed early.” Xiya came over, and when he passed by Moya, he patted his shoulders in a friendly manner.

“Brother.” Moya suddenly called out behind him.

“En? What is it?” Xiya turned around.

“I just wanted to say, your idea isn’t bad.” Moya’s eyes sparkled with rare amusement.

Xiya grinded his teeth subtly. This little brother was not cute at all. Did he have to reveal that he had overheard?

Chunji only had a single bed and those lovers of his didn’t even get a chance to touch it, let alone Mingya. But daily wound care required hours, so Xiya and Moya took turns carrying him over and back. Lei Jin always stayed with Mingya.

The treatments were agonizing. Mingya teared up but forced smiles for Lei Jin.

“Stop grinning. It’s ugly.” Lei Jin left to wander the yard. Just when he was bored, he heard the baby. He called, “Chunji, I’ll play with your son.”

Before Chunji could respond, Lei Jin darted inside.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Lei Jin, this guy, is he asking me or informing me?” Chunji muttered in annoyance, but he looked into the house worriedly.

When Lei Jin leaned over, he was met with a pair of large emerald green eyes. The owner of the eyes was sucking his fingers in a serious manner, seeming to be having a lot of fun. However, when he saw Lei Jin, he opened his mouth and started to wail loudly, as if he had been bullied and felt extremely aggrieved.

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Mingya sensed something different about Lei Jin after he woke up, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. But as long as Lei Jin was unharmed, he could relax. He really needed to sleep now. He hadn’t closed his eyes in days.

“How long have we been trapped here?” The cramped space left them barely able to move, their bodies stiff. Lei Jin estimated it had been quite some time.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Mingya doesn’t know. Mingya tried digging a way out, but every time I moved, more of these white stones fell. So I stopped.” Mingya hung his head in shame. He was supposed to protect Lei Jin, yet here they were, helpless.

Lei Jin stretched his neck, his eyes adjusting to the dark. The faint glow from the crystal veins revealed their position—wedged in a corner, relatively safe. Tapping the wall produced a dull thud, suggesting hollowness beyond. This was the second door behind Mingya. His memory of that moment was blank. He didn’t even know how he’d dragged Mingya’s massive beast form out. If Mingya was right, they’d barely escaped before the tunnel collapsed. The cold air meant they wouldn’t suffocate, at least.

“Lei Jin, what are you thinking?” Mingya nuzzled his shoulder.

“How to get out.” Without food, they could last, but without water, they wouldn’t survive long. Rescue in this wilderness was unlikely.

The thought of water made his throat burn. He licked his cracked lips—dry and peeling, yet his mouth tasted strongly of blood. At first, he thought he was bleeding, but found no wounds.

“Mingya?” Lei Jin nudged him, sensing something amiss.

The moment he touched Mingya, he realized Mingya was burning up like a furnace. No wonder it was so warm.

“En?” Mingya rubbed his sleepy eyes, forcing himself alert.

“How have we survived without water? And why are you feverish?” Lei Jin’s hands groped for Mingya’s paws in the cramped space.

“Mingya’s fine. Just tired.” Mingya tucked his paws under his belly, hiding them.

Lei Jin fixed him with a sharp, disbelieving stare and yanked his forepaws out. What he saw made his heart clench—large patches of fur had been torn away, leaving raw, bloody wounds.

“Did you bite these open yourself?” Lei Jin asked after a steadying breath.

“En, Mingya was thirsty. Wanted water.” Mingya traced circles on the ground, nervously avoiding his eyes.

“How could you be this foolish?” Lei Jin felt utterly helpless with Mingya.

“Mingya’s grown now. Can protect you.” The boy’s gaze was clear and resolute, shedding his earlier pitifulness.

“Let me bandage these.” Lei Jin avoided his eyes, unwilling to shoulder another’s devotion. It was too heavy, he couldn’t bear it.

“No need. It stopped bleeding.” If bandaged, Lei Jin couldn’t drink from them.

Lei Jin insisted, tearing his undershirt into strips with trembling hands. The makeshift bandages were clumsy, leaving them both sweating and exhausted.

Over the next two days, Lei Jin tried digging again, but as Mingya warned, each movement brought more collapses.

“Mingya, we might really die here.” Lei Jin’s throat was parched, his attempts to swallow futile. He refused Mingya’s blood, but the boy kept him from biting his own wrist, pinning him down the whole time.

“Eldest Brother and Second Brother will save us.” Mingya’s faith was unshakable.

“Xiya and Moya…” Lei Jin chuckled bitterly. Even if they forgave his betrayal, would they arrive in time? Mingya’s fever burned relentlessly. Without him, escape meant nothing.

“Mingya, do you have a wish? Something you’ve always wanted?” Returning home had driven Lei Jin this far, but now it felt hollow.

“Yes.” Mingya’s immediate answer startled him. He had always thought this little guy, always airheaded and happy-go-lucky, didn’t have much desire.

“What is it?” Lei Jin teased absentmindedly, expecting childish whims.

“Mingya wants you to be his mate.” The boy’s voice dwindled to a whisper, courage faltering.

Lei Jin chuckled. “You’re still thinking of that now?”

“If—if we live, will you agree?” Mingya lifted his head from Lei Jin’s chest, his eyes pleading.

Lei Jin meant to deflect with a joke, pretending not to understand, but the boy’s earnestness disarmed him. He could only reply, “We’ll talk after escaping.”

“If Mingya dies here, you don’t have to—”

“Enough. I agree.” The words tumbled out, sealing his fate.

“Really? You’ll be Mingya’s mate?” The boy trembled with joy and asked eagerly.

“…Yes.” Lei Jin sighed, rubbing his eyes. In his heart he thought, we’re probably dying anyway. Let him have this.

He didn’t yet realize this promise would bind him for life—with no take-backs. He had sold himself out, and when he had been eaten down to the bone, it would be too late for any regrets.

In the dark, Mingya’s blue eyes shimmered. He licked Lei Jin’s lips, grinning like a fool.

Days blurred into delirium. Lei Jin, dehydrated, drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of metallic warmth trickling into his mouth. He wanted to refuse, but his lips wouldn’t obey.

The days moved slowly with nothing to do but wait. But Mingya’s body was cooling his arms and Lei Jin had lost hope. Gathering his last strength, Lei Jin held him close and let darkness claim him.

Not long after they lost consciousness, a white fox wriggled through the rubble. Finding them, it yipped excitedly, stomping on Mingya’s head before sniffing him and whining mournfully.

“Little fox! Did you find them? How are they?” Xiya’s voice echoed from outside. He and Moya had searched for two days, battling monsters until luckily the little fox found this hidden entrance and led them here.

Moya tilted his head to listen closely, then began digging carefully. “They’re close.”

When the rubble cleared, revealing the motionless pair, Xiya and Moya nearly collapsed, seemingly having no energy to move any closer. Eventually, biting their teeth, they checked for breath and sagged in relief, shirts soaked with sweat.

They carried them to a temporary cave, where warm water waited. Lei Jin stirred after gulping salted water, but Mingya’s leg was dire—bone protruding, flesh blackening. Without treatment, he’d lose it. But they had followed in a hurry and only had some hemostatic herbs on them, good for the two front paws but not for the hind leg.

“To the Tiger Tribe.” Xiya decided immediately. The Tiger Tribe was relatively the closest and there at least they could find a healer.

“En, let’s go to the Tiger Tribe to deal with it first, and then rush back to find Chunji as soon as possible. Hopefully there will be a solution.” Moya was scrubbing Mingya’s wound with salt water. It was surely painful, but the little brother who was always afraid of pain didn’t react at all. Moya felt that it should not only be a problem of inflammation of the wound, they must not delay any longer.

“You are talking about Chunji? Is he a young man in his twenties with blond hair and blue eyes?” Xiya and Moya’s whole attention was on the two people they had just rescued, and they didn’t notice when they were being followed.

“Who are you?” Xiya looked at the strange old man wrapped in black standing at the entrance of the cave.

“Tell me first, is the Chunji you mentioned like I described?” The new arrival seemed very anxious. If either Lei Jin or Mingya was awake, they would recognize that this was the mysterious old man they met when they came to the forbidden area.

“Just who are you?” Xiya was a little impatient. His youngest brother and Lei Jin were both injured, so he had no time to deal with this strange person.

“If you tell me, I will help you save him.” The man in black laughed strangely and pointed his finger like a dead branch at the unconscious Mingya.

“Chunji’s skills came from me. Only I can heal those wounds.”

“You’re Chunji’s ‘damn old man’ master?” Moya recalled Chunji’s rants.

The stranger cackled. “Where is that brat? I haven’t seen him in ten years!”

With the strange old man’s help, they bypassed the Tiger Tribe. By the time they reached home, Mingya had stabilized, though they still took him to Chunji.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

At the doorstep, infant wails greeted them. Chunji, scowling, froze at the sight of the old man, his eyes reddened then he dragged him inside, grip tight. “Damn old man, you’re alive?! Help me with this baby!” His actions seemed rough but the hand supporting the old man did not let go.

As the door slammed, Lei Jin stirred in familiar arms.

“I think I heard that child crying again.”

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It was past midnight, and any lingering interest had long faded. So when Liu Si, her beautiful eyes half-lidded, wrapped her smooth arms around him with clear intent, Lei Jin declined, claiming exhaustion. Fortunately, Liu Si was tactful and didn’t press further. With a soft “goodnight,” she took her side of the bed and drifted off.

They had shared a bed countless times—it should’ve been second nature by now. Yet tonight, Lei Jin felt inexplicably uneasy. His head throbbed, and despite lying still for what felt like hours, sleep eluded him. Giving up, he grabbed a robe, snatched a bottle from the liquor cabinet, and headed to the rooftop terrace.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Though summer lingered, the coastal city’s nights carried a chill. Lei Jin sprawled across a lounge chair, the wind clearing his mind. He tried recalling his dream, but the once-vivid fragments had blurred into obscurity. Just a dream after all. Pressing an arm over his eyes, he wrestled with the lingering unease until he realized—he’d brought up an unopened bottle of foreign liquor. Cursing under his breath, he vowed to stock authentic Chinese wine next time.

“Lei Jin, remember to come back!” The boy’s final cry pierced his thoughts.

“Mingya…” The name slipped out unbidden, stirring a rare pang of panic.

Just a dream. It’s over now. Stop dwelling. Lei Jin slapped his own cheeks.

Below, his bodyguards, alerted by the noise, rushed up with guns drawn—only to freeze at the surreal sight of their boss slapping himself in the middle of the night.

Holstering their weapons, one scratched his head and asked in concern. “Boss, what are you doing?” These two had been with Lei Jin since his street-fighting days. Though they respected him deeply, their rapport allowed for bluntness.

“Stargazing,” Lei Jin grumbled.

They exchanged glances. Did Sister Liu kick him out of bed? Their rough—no, unrestrained—boss stargazing? More shocking than the sun rising in the north.

“Boss, should we call Mr. Yu Ran over?” one ventured, wiping sweat. Other then Miss Liu who accompanied their boss the longest, everyone knew Yu Ran was Lei Jin’s latest flame—though based on the man’s aloofness, whether their boss had succeeded in seducing the other remained a mystery.

“Scram. I know what you’re thinking. Can’t a man look at stars?” Lei Jin lobbed the unopened bottle at them.

“Boss, the cerebellum controls movement, not thoughts,” the other quipped, catching it.

“Shut it. You think I don’t know you? Get lost.” Lei Jin waved them off, though their antics had lightened his mood. These men had stood by him through life and death. None of them had much of an education to speak of but they were all loyal and good brothers. If he ever vanished, they’d be his only regret.

If that world had been real, Roger was his sole link. Maybe he could start there and see if it had truly existed.

Outwardly, Lei Jin remained his uncaring self, but those close enough noticed the change—a newfound steadiness, sharper foresight. Most shocking? He’d stopped bedding partners. Rumors exploded in the Qinyan Gang: The boss can’t get it up! Soon, those who were ambitious began leaving pills, nourishing soups, and all kinds of secret recipes on Lei Jin’s desk under other pretexts.

So this city’s people would often see in corners, scenes like this:

“Will the boss recover?”
“One-to-two odds if yes, one-to-ten if no.”
“How long will it take?”
“One month—one-to-one. Two months—one-to-two. And so on.”

By the time Lei Jin caught wind, the gossip was unstoppable. Still, morale had never been higher.

Tonight, Lei Jin drank with the gang’s old guard at Liu Si’s club. But his mind wasn’t in it, he had asked someone to go to Europe to make inquiries. Twenty years was not a long time, but it was also not easy to find a missing archaeologist. Fortunately, Lei Jin was willing to spend a lot of money and finally got some information. However, to his disappointment, there was no such archaeological team twenty years ago, let alone missing people. Of course, more specific information would depend on the email sent. In fact, Lei Jin himself didn’t know whether he wanted to confirm whether the dream was true or false.

“Lei, you’re spacing out. What are you thinking” A scar-faced older man patted his shoulder, a drink in hand.

“Nothing. A toast, Uncle Kuan.” These elders had built the gang with his adoptive father. Though retired, their influence remained. They didn’t make trouble and Lei Jin was also willing to play nice—gathering once in a while and keeping in touch, though there wasn’t anything deeper than that.

“Don’t worry, young man. Rest up, and the future’s bright,” another old man in a dark traditional Tang suit added.

Lei Jin’s eye twitched. Knowing there was no point in explaining, he forced a smile. “Thanks, Uncle Zhou.”

“See? Lei’s resilient. He’ll bounce back.”

Resilient enough to keep lining your pockets? Lei Jin wondered why they had to get together for a drink for no reason? In fact, such things have been happening again and again since he took this position. He knew very well that the reason they supported him to take the position at that time was, firstly, that his power should not be underestimated, and secondly, that he could bring more benefits to the gang. It was normal for everyone to look to their own interests. It’s just that he was in a particularly bad mood today and didn’t want to deal with these hypocritical faces.

Lei Jin signaled Liu Si.

Once “business” concluded, hostesses flooded in, expertly revving the atmosphere. With Liu Si present, none dared approach Lei Jin—until she left to handle a disturbance. Then, his seat became prime real estate. After all, who wouldn’t prefer a young and handsome man to the old fogeys. But every industry had its rules and they didn’t dare to move from their spot. Still, the eyes couldn’t lie and the seductive glances cast from the corner of their eyes kept coming his way.

Rather than stoke the old men’s jealousy, Lei Jin summoned a male escort. The new manager, unsure of his tastes, asked for preferences.

“Just keep it clean.”

The boy who arrived had nearly white-blond hair, huge blue eyes, and a sweet, obedient demeanor. Lei Jin was taken aback.

The table barely blinked—Lei Jin’s bisexuality was old news. Only Zhou Hao, Uncle Zhou’s son and the gang’s second-in-command, snorted from his seat. Their mutual disdain was no secret. Lei Jin pretended not to hear. Zhou Hao was a man who had returned from studying abroad. He was arrogant, but he was at least loyal. Lei Jin always turned a blind eye to him. Of course, the fact that this guy had a very handsome face was also a major reason. At the beginning, Lei Jin had thought about him many times, but then he thought that it would definitely get him into trouble, so he gave up the idea early on.

“Brother Jin, I’ve admired you for so long,” the boy purred, curling into Lei Jin’s lap.

“Oh? What’s your name?” Lei Jin pinched his chin, flashing his trademark smirk.

This time Zhou Hao slammed the cup heavily on the table, stood up, brushed off the hem of his clothes, looked at Lei Jin and the people in the room, and said sternly: “Boss, uncles, I have something else to do, so I’ll leave first.”

By ten, the elders dispersed. Lei Jin took the boy—Ye Er—home. Undressing, showering, bedding him should’ve been routine. But as Ye Er knelt on the mattress, all Lei Jin saw were pleading blue eyes. His arousal evaporated.

He sent Ye Er to a guest room and retreated to his study. The email confirmed it: There was indeed nothing twenty years ago but two years ago an archaeologist by the name of Roger had disappeared. The attached photo showed a black haired, green eyed man at work, a pocket watch beside him—a very familiar pocket watch.

Not a dream. Those people really existed in his life, Xiya, Moya, Mingya, his child, Roger, and many other people were not his imagination. What was going on and why did this happen? The harder Lei Jin tried, the harder it was to remember. He only vaguely remembered these names, but he had a premonition that one day he would forget them all, not a single one, because he knew he could never go back.

A few days later, Lei Jin returned to the villa in the suburbs. Sister Zhou, who came once a week to clean up, left a letter saying that she found some things in the bathroom and put them in a box on the table in the living room. He opened it and found a pocket watch and a ring-shaped black jade. Lei Jin’s complexion was pale, but he calmly put away the pocket watch and found a chain to carry the black jade with him.

Five years later, all memories of that world had vanished—first the faces, then the names. Lei Jin remained unmarried, though he’d doted on Ye Er for years. Only Liu Si stayed constant, joking they should just grow old together. Lei Jin smiled, considering it—yet something always held him back.

The day Lei Jin fell into the sea, he was designated by the other party to go to the high seas in person to settle a big order. However, he was ambushed by a third party on the way, and Zhou Hao’s support was delayed in arriving. It was not uncommon for black eating black in the underworld. He didn’t have any particular regret for his death, but it was a pity for the brothers who had been following him. However, if they survived, Zhou Hao likely wouldn’t kill them all. After all, he had treated Zhou Hao very well in the past few years, and he should remember that at least.

As darkness closed in, Lei Jin remembered everything. The foolish Mingya who’d traded his life for Lei Jin’s departure. If given another chance… maybe he’d choose differently.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Lei Jin, are you awake?” Mingya’s voice.

“Where are we?” Pitch-black.

“Mingya failed you.” He hadn’t expected Lei Jin to turn back for him. Now, they were both trapped.

“So I never left.” Lei Jin exhaled.

“Were you dreaming?”

“A long dream. But I’m awake now.” In every sense.

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