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Qi Xuansu would always dream every time he lost consciousness. So dreaming had already become routine for him.
This time was no exception.
He had an exceedingly long and deep dream.
People usually would not notice they were within a dream, no matter how illogical it was, because everything seemed natural.
In that hazy, drifting state between sleep and consciousness, Qi Xuansu faintly heard someone calling out to him.
Qi Xuansu slowly opened his eyes. The first thing that entered his view was the canopy of an eight-post bed. A woman leaned half-seated by the bedside, gently pushing his shoulder while calling out to him.
This was clearly a bedroom, so there were no bookshelves or desks, nor any tables or chairs meant for receiving guests. Instead, there was a dressing table and a carved ebony chest. There was also a small round table with two embroidered stools, and atop the table sat a set of purple-clay teaware.
The woman by the bed had loosely scattered long black...
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