Good Morning

The faint morning light filtered through the gaps in the window lattices, drawing a thin golden line on the floor at the foot of the bed. The light was still weak and lacked warmth, just barely enough to illuminate the dust motes floating in the air. Mornings in Everspring City came late; the sun was blocked by the snowy mountains and would take another hour to climb over the ridge.

Lu Yan opened his eyes. Before him was a blurry smudge of brownish-yellow. He squinted for a good while before he could distinguish the familiar ceiling from the edges and shadows of that block of color.

His vision still hadn't fully recovered, but he could see. Being able to see was enough. “I'm back? It feels so good to be able to see,” he muttered to himself, his voice raspy with the relaxation that followed a night of sound sleep.

He closed his eyes again, intending to roll over and linger in bed a little longer. He wriggled under the covers, found the indentation he had slept in last night, snuggled back into it, and prepared to resume his unfinished dream.

“Mnh...”

A soft, sweet whimper erupted right next to his ear.

Lu Yan's body froze. His eyes remained tightly shut, and his breathing maintained its relaxed rhythm from a moment ago, but his consciousness was instantly yanked out of its "sleep a bit longer" haze. The lazy little voice in his head that had wanted to cuddle with the bed for a while longer was brutally knocked out by a rising uppercut.

There's someone in the bed. That voice... No way, right?

He snapped his eyes open.

The movement was too sudden, causing the world in front of him to wobble. It was still the brownish-yellow ceiling and the brownish-yellow walls.

But as he looked down, there was something else—a patch of silvery white. It was right in front of his face, filling most of his field of vision. Strands of silver-white hair cascaded down, resting in the crook of his shoulder and across his chest.

A few stray strands brushed against his chin, sweeping back and forth against his skin with Jiang Ci's breathing, tickling him.

His gaze drifted lower. He saw his own hand. It was resting comfortably on a slender waist, his fingers naturally curved, holding Jiang Ci close.

Lu Yan's eye twitched. He wanted to pull his hand away, but she was pinning it down. He didn't dare move any further, terrified of waking her.

Yokatta... Is my life really over after all? Lu Yan felt utterly devoid of hope. He wanted to elbow-drop concrete from the twenty-eighth floor, but unfortunately, there were no twenty-eight-story buildings in the cultivation world, nor was there any concrete.

A faint fragrance lingered around the tip of his nose. The crispness of cedar and the sweetness of jasmine had blended together, warmed by body heat into an indescribably pleasant scent with a subtle, milky undertone.

He had smelled it all night in his dreams, assuming it was the aromatherapy spray he had bought for his silicone body pillow back in his past life—he actually had bought a bottle of jasmine-cedar scented spray once, which had cost him nearly two hundred yuan. Spraying it lasted for days, and hugging the pillow to sleep at night was incredibly soothing.

This isn't freaking aromatherapy. This is the scent of Jiang Ci's body.

He cursed himself in his mind. An absurd realization popped into his head—it turned out the "body pillow" he had been hugging all night was actually Jiang Ci. He had held her in his arms the entire night! He had freaking hugged her to sleep all night!

His gaze drifted down a bit further. Fortunately, their clothes were still intact. Both of them were properly dressed, with no signs of dishevelment or tearing.

Thank goodness. No cliché "losing my virginity without knowing how" drama. He breathed a mental sigh of relief.

But the current situation was still incredibly messed up.

His gaze returned to Jiang Ci. She was lying on her side, facing him, curled into a tiny ball in his embrace. Her head rested just below his collarbone—essentially right on his chest—her silver-white hair splayed out like a thin layer of snow fallen on black basalt.

Her eyelashes were very long. He had never noticed before—well, he hadn't been able to see before. Now, he could see them clearly: the long lashes curled slightly upward, casting a small, fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes, trembling gently with her even breaths.

Suddenly, he felt a damp sensation on the fabric of his shirt. Carefully and gently craning his neck to look down, he saw a large, wet patch on his chest. It felt cold against his skin, serving as a harsh reminder that this was absolutely not a dream and there was no escaping reality.

Has this girl not passed her oral stage yet? Why is she drooling in her sleep?

Lu Yan, a man like a soaring eagle, felt the immense malice of the universe at this moment. He sentenced himself to death in his mind. Not physical death, but the death of his social standing. He was already imagining Jiang Ci's expression when she woke up—shock, anger, embarrassment, or perhaps a combination of all three. He had even started rehearsing an apology in his head: “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was dreaming last night and thought you were a body pillow.” Even saying that to himself made him want to slap his own face.

The light outside grew a bit brighter. The golden line crawled from the foot of the bed to the middle of the blanket. In a little while, it would reach Jiang Ci's face.

Lu Yan prayed silently. Don't wake up, don't wake up, please don't wake up. Let me figure out how to handle this first. He wanted to pry her hand off his collar, but a gentle try showed it wouldn't work. He wanted to slide his pinned arm out from under her, but trying that was even worse. Every time he made the slightest movement, she would frown in her sleep and grip him even tighter.

He gave up. He just lay there with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, waiting for destiny to deliver its final judgment.

Perhaps the sun was simply too dazzling. Perhaps the voice screaming in his mind was too loud. Or perhaps she had simply slept enough and woke up naturally.

Jiang Ci's eyelids fluttered.

Lu Yan's heart skipped a beat.

Her eyelashes trembled, and then, she slowly opened her eyes.

Those grayish-white glass pupils slowly focused from their sleepy haze, shifting from blurry to clear, from vacant to sharp.

Then, she lifted her head from his drool-soaked chest.

Their eyes met.

A crack appeared in the expression on Lu Yan's face. He tilted his head slightly. “Good morning?”