Chapter 6: Not a Dream

It must be a dream, Qiu Shuiman convinced herself; it must have been a wet dream.

"You're awake?" Xiao Jue's voice was somewhat cold, though his gaze did not waver from her.

Hearing the man's pleasant voice, Qiu Shuiman turned her head instinctively. She saw two men in long robes standing by the bed. One of them was clearly the man from her dream, but his expression was icy, making her tremble involuntarily.

Qiu Shuiman gasped. Could it be that this wasn't a dream? What on earth was going on? Had she really transmigrated? Qiu Shuiman tried to recall what had happened, but her memory stopped at her drunkenly heading to her boyfriend's house. Whenever she tried to think about what happened after that, her head throbbed with pain.

"My head... it hurts," Qiu Shuiman said, clutching her head, her face twisted in pain.

Mu Liufei stepped forward, checked her pulse again, and then brushed aside the stray hair on her forehead, revealing a clear wound on her temple.

"Her head suffered an impact, and there is blood stasis remaining in her brain," Mu Liufei said, before inserting silver needles into the acupoints on her head.

Qiu Shuiman felt her headache ease slightly and let out a long sigh of relief. She glanced at them sideways. "Who are you? Why am I here?" Qiu Shuiman asked.

Mu Liufei pulled out the silver needles and asked, "Miss Qiu, have you forgotten how you came to be here?"

Qiu Shuiman shook her head. She was certain now that she wasn't dreaming. But why had she transmigrated for no reason? Which dynasty was this? And who was this man she had been intimate with in her dream?

"Then do you know who this Prince is?" Xiao Jue suddenly asked.

Qiu Shuiman looked at him, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat. She hurriedly looked away and said, "I saw you in a dream... it was in, in a coffin."

Xiao Jue chuckled, the curve of his lips looking quite handsome. "That was no dream. The first time you met this Prince was indeed in a coffin."

Hearing Xiao Jue's words, Qiu Shuiman's heart turned cold. It wasn't a dream? If that was the case, then she and he... Qiu Shuiman's cheeks flushed with shame. When she first woke up, she had mistakenly thought she was at her boyfriend's house, so she had assumed the man lying beside her was her boyfriend.

How could such an absurd and bizarre thing happen?

"Miss Qiu, do you remember how you ended up in the coffin?" Mu Liufei asked.

Qiu Shuiman shook her head. She couldn't remember anything, nor did she know where she was. Whenever she tried to think deeply, her head felt like it was about to explode.

"I don't remember anything. I can't recall a thing," Qiu Shuiman rubbed her head. She still couldn't accept the fact that she had transmigrated.

"Then Ah Ye, you must remember him, right?" Xiao Jue's voice was as cold as midwinter ice.

Hearing the name Ah Ye, Qiu Shuiman suddenly sat up, clutching the bed, her face filled with excitement and surprise. "He is my boyfriend. Do you know where he is?"

Xiao Jue's gaze darkened slightly, and he asked in a deep voice, "What is a 'boyfriend'?"

Qiu Shuiman was stunned for a moment, then realized that people in ancient times wouldn't know the definition of a boyfriend. "A boyfriend is a beloved person, a lover," Qiu Shuiman explained.

But just as the words left her lips, a gust of wind rushed toward her face. The man who had been several steps away suddenly closed the distance, one hand gripping her throat. He looked at her with murderous intent in his eyes. "Qiu Shuiman, are you trying to die? You are already this Prince's woman, yet you think of another man in your heart. Do you believe this Prince will kill you? Hmm?"

Qiu Shuiman shuddered, her eyes wide with shock. Suddenly learning this fact, she found it both absurd and terrifying. She had thought it was just a dream, but now it seemed like an abyss.

Seeing this, Mu Liufei hurriedly stepped forward to pull Xiao Jue away, urging, "Your Highness, please calm your anger. Miss Qiu has injured her head; it seems she has forgotten her past memories."

Xiao Jue looked at Qiu Shuiman, whose eyes were misted with tears. That pitiful appearance reminded him of how she had surrendered beneath him in the coffin. That intoxicating sensation made Xiao Jue's body feel as if it were igniting with fire once more.

His lips were dry, and he instinctively wanted to lick them; the graceful female body remained etched in his mind. However, he suddenly thought of Prime Minister Qiu. She was the daughter of his enemy—how could he?