The Dream of Blood and Blossoms

Gu Yi looked as though lightning had struck him — his entire body stiffened, barely able to stand upright.
“You… you…”
His face turned crimson; he coughed so hard the carriage seemed to shake. Only after catching his breath did he finally bark, “You wild creature! What nonsense are you spewing now?”

I blinked at him, puzzled. “But I’m not talking nonsense. Last night, even though you held me very tight and tried to take off my clothes several times, I definitely did not take your virginity.”

He pointed a trembling finger at me, his eyes wide in disbelief.

I tilted my head, calm as ever. “Oh… judging by that look, you seem rather disappointed.”

“GET OUT!”

A sharp kick sent me flying out of the carriage, tumbling headfirst into the dirt. From that night on, I lost my right to sleep in the prince’s precious carriage.

Later, I learned that Gu Yi’s sleepwalking habit was common knowledge among his servants — as was his peculiar preference for hugging something in his sleep. But the prince himself was a master of denial.
Even after multiple “incidents,” he still insisted that nobody knew.

The most famous of these events was known as the Blue General Incident.

It was said that one afternoon, General Lan came to discuss military matters with Gu Yi. Unfortunately, the prince happened to be napping. Dutiful as ever, the general decided to wait quietly by his side.

But halfway through his nap, Gu Yi — acting entirely on instinct — reached out, grabbed the general, and pulled him into the blankets, hugging him like a pillow.

Now, General Lan might’ve been in his mid-thirties, but he was an unmarried, battle-hardened man who’d never been this close to anyone before. Being suddenly embraced by his superior made his blood rush and his mind blank.

And since the prince slept like a log, the poor general was held there, stiff as a spear, for two whole hours.

Afterward, Gu Yi acted like nothing happened — but General Lan was never the same again.

From that day forward, he personally delivered the prince’s meals, hand-washed his clothes, and even stood guard outside his carriage every night. His reason was perfectly righteous: “To protect the prince’s safety at all times!”

But Gu Yi began to find him increasingly irritating. Truly, heaven bears witness — the prince was being haunted by a devoted fool, a model of misplaced loyalty and tragic affection.

Since being kicked out, I’d been sleeping outdoors. Fortunately, the weather had turned warmer, so it wasn’t unbearable — and honestly, it gave me more time to grind away at that iron chain.

Two nights later, however, Gu Yi snatched away my bear hide and tossed me a paper-thin cotton robe instead.

The February winds sliced through me like knives. I shivered so hard my teeth rattled, tears streaming down my face. Finally, I collapsed outside his carriage and wailed:

“Your Highness, I was wrong! Please, I beg you, let me back in the carriage!”

Inside, Gu Yi turned over lazily, his snoring steady and maddeningly even.

I wiped my nose, threw away all dignity, and shouted,
“If you let me in, I’ll sleep with you! I’ll even let you hug me however you want! Hug me, squeeze me, sleep however you like!”

The carriage jolted once. A teacup fell and shattered. Then came his gritted, furious voice:
“Get in. NOW.”

The journey continued, slow and steady. By early spring, we finally crossed into the borders of Xi Han, toward its grand capital — Yingzhong.

From overheard conversations, I gathered that was our destination.

But my heart felt heavy.
If Xiao Lü came back to find me gone… what would he think? Would he search for me?

I worried by day, and I worried by night — until we were deep inside Xi Han territory, with only a few dozen miles left to Yingzhong.

It was early March. The snow had melted, flowers were in bloom, and the world smelled alive again.

That morning, General Lan rode up and reported, “Your Highness, there’s a vast flower forest ahead. Multicolored blossoms as far as the eye can see — perhaps you’d like to stop and admire them?”

Gu Yi paused, his expression serious — though I caught the flicker of curiosity in his eyes. After two seconds of “deliberation,” he said coolly,
“Well… since we’re already here, I suppose we can take a look.”

He yanked the chain on my ankle and dragged me along.

General Lan ordered the men to make camp and volunteered to follow as bodyguard, but Gu Yi waved him off.

The general hesitated, fidgeting. “Your Highness, please allow me to accompany you! For your safety—”

“Stay here.”

Lan stomped his foot, his voice trembling with emotion. “Y-Your Highness—!”

Gu Yi didn’t turn around. The general stood there a moment, then fled in tears.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame Gu Yi for being cruel — General Lan was loud.
He was supposed to be a guard, but he’d somehow turned into a nanny.
He micromanaged Gu Yi’s meals, his clothes, even his baths. Worst of all, he was convinced I was some sort of spy and had, more than once, suggested Gu Yi execute me “for safety’s sake.”

The flower forest was breathtaking — waves of blossoms stretching endlessly, swaying like painted clouds under the breeze.

Gu Yi tethered me to an old tree, unfolded his fan, and strolled leisurely into the sea of color.

I, on the other hand, decided to enjoy my freedom the best I could — by taking a nap.

When I woke, the sky had turned dark and heavy. The once-bright forest now shimmered in eerie shades of violet.

How long had I slept? The very air felt different. The flowers no longer looked alive but glowed faintly, as if pulsing.

I stood up, ready to call out, but realized something strange — the iron shackle on my ankle was gone. My feet felt light, weightless.

No time to question why. Freedom was freedom. I ran.

But no matter how far I ran, the violet stretched on endlessly. Every direction looked the same — like I’d stepped into a dream with no exit.

Just as panic set in, I spotted someone ahead — a slim woman standing alone. Her waist was so narrow it seemed unreal.

I hurried forward to ask the way — but then, a shadow fell across the sky.

A black cloud drifted overhead, and from it descended a man dressed entirely in black, merging with the purple landscape like a shadow come to life.

The moment he landed, the woman sprang forward like a wolf, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, and rubbing against him with soft delight. Her voice was sugary sweet:
“You’re finally here…”

How… enthusiastic.

I rubbed my eyes, glanced around — secluded place, gorgeous flowers, no one else around. Ah, a perfect trysting spot! Excellent.

Curiosity piqued, I leaned closer, hoping to see what happened next.

Then — the woman suddenly went limp, collapsing to the ground.

Whoa, that’s… fast. First meeting and already fainting?

But what came next made my fur stand on end.

The man looked down at her coldly, drew his sword with a sharp shing, and, without hesitation, plunged it straight into her chest.

Blood spurted like a fountain. He calmly lifted the hem of his robe, wiped the blade clean with surgical precision, and sheathed it.

A gaping hole had opened in the woman’s body — blood soaking into the soil, turning the violet petals scarlet.

A lovers’ rendezvous twisted into a murder scene before my eyes.

The man was insane — or heartless beyond belief.

As I stood frozen, mind reeling, the world suddenly spun. A violent force pulled at me — dragging me inward, deeper, somewhere else.

Pain exploded in my chest. When I looked down, there was a hole there too, blood pouring freely.

“What— what’s happening?” I tried to cry out, but the voice that came from my mouth wasn’t my own.

“Qin An! Qin An!”

“I’m going to kill you!”