Return to Before the Villain’s Corruption

"Even if you’re dreaming, can’t you dream of something better?"

In the vast, dim chamber, Qin Donglin’s voice dropped like a falling stone, producing faint echoes. Even when spoken softly, it carried a cold and detached tone.

Qiu Shi nervously rubbed her slightly sore nose and, recalling what she had just seen, couldn’t help but feel a lump in her throat.

"This dream is different," she emphasized, her gaze dropping to her toes, avoiding his eyes directly. "I started having this dream over ten days ago."

Seeing her reluctance, Qin Donglin, who had experienced such encounters more than once, was now thoroughly resigned. Today, it seemed certain that he wouldn’t be doing anything other than listening to her recount her dream.

He sheathed the Autumn Water Sword and tossed it into Qiu Shi’s arms. Watching her hold the sword with a dazed expression, looking rather foolish, he felt the urge to pinch his brows.

"What are you still doing here? Come out," he commanded.

Qiu Shi glanced at his tall, upright back as he strode toward the chamber door, then at the Autumn Water Sword, which she had barely used. Clueless, she asked, "You’re not practicing swordsmanship anymore?"

If he continued, he feared he might lose control.

Qin Donglin’s chest gave a slight tremble, his voice as cold as frost: "Next time, if there’s nothing urgent, don’t come looking for me."

Qiu Shi was long accustomed to his unpredictable temper, and his words carried no weight for her.

Holding the Autumn Water Sword, she followed behind him step by step out of the chamber.

Outside, the sunlight was bright, illuminating a small courtyard where houses were neatly arranged in rows. Clusters of hydrangeas climbed wooden fences, their blooms peeking inquisitively toward the outside. A small pond featured tender lotus leaves just sprouting delicate tips, while the gentle sound of flowing water played like fragments of a broken melody.

Qiu Shi sat down in the pavilion to wait. Soon, Qin Donglin reappeared, having changed clothes. His expression was grim, and his tone far from soft: "Where are we going?"

Qiu Shi had originally intended to accompany him for a proper sword practice, but since he had already changed clothes and come out, she didn’t refuse. Instead, she earnestly began thinking of desirable destinations in the main city.

"Let’s go to Tianque Street. I’ve heard there’s a newly opened restaurant there, and the chef is exceptionally skilled. Many noble ladies from prominent families in the city are quite fond of the desserts there," she suggested.

As the pair left the courtyard one after another, Ruan Yuan glanced their way, pressing a seed into the soil. Her expression carried a faint smile.

The maid beside her also looked up briefly and remarked, "The two young masters seem to have such a close bond."

"You have a way with words," Ruan Yuan replied with a shake of her head. "Donglin always has that cold face. No matter who stands next to him, it seldom looks like they share any affection."

Having worked closely with Ruan Yuan for a long time, the maid had grown less formal and wasn’t afraid to add her opinion. "The Young Lord’s personality may be like this, but we can all see how well he treats Miss Qiu Shi."

Indeed, there didn’t seem to be anyone else with such extraordinary abilities—to drag the sword-practicing Young Lord away for desserts.

It was always like this—though Ruan Yuan's expression was as dark as ever, he still dutifully joined in the fun, played along, and went through the motions without missing a beat.

"As long as Qiu Shi is by his side, and the two can keep things lively, that's what matters most."

Ruan Yuan's lips curled upward faintly. "I still remember when Donglin was young, he'd come to me and his father constantly, complaining about the hassle and insisting on calling off his engagement with Qiu Shi."

"You see, when it actually came time to cancel, he didn't utter a single word of protest."

=====

At Tianque Tavern, the crowd was bustling, and guests clad in an array of styles came streaming in to claim seats.

Qiu Shi and Qin Donglin had reserved a private room on the upper floor and ordered the signature dishes prepared by the kitchen here.

The room was faintly scented with incense—subtle and delicate, curling like smoke, its modest presence easily overwhelmed by the fruity fragrance of spirit fruits laid out on the table.

The curtains by the window were half-drawn, offering glimpses of the lively streets outside, where carts rolled by and people moved about in a boisterous throng, accompanied by endless calls from street vendors.

Fortunately, the tavern had installed a small spirit formation along the wall, separating the room from the noise outside. Such meticulous attention to detail clearly showcased the establishment's thoughtful design—it was, indeed, extraordinary.

Qiu Shi held a slender little spoon in one hand, idly scooping at the white spirit fruit in her bowl, lifting it and then dropping it back into the bowl without taking a bite—playing with it as if for amusement.

"Where's Wu Fei?"

"He's been scarce these past few days."

Qiu Shi’s long lashes drooped slightly as she asked absentmindedly.

"He ran into trouble with his cousin, whom he brought along to the main city, and the two of them had to face punishment together," Qin Donglin replied, surveying the spread of exquisite desserts and spirit liquors laid out on the table, none of which stirred his appetite in the slightest.

Qiu Shi chuckled softly and said, "Good thing I don't have younger siblings; otherwise, I'd probably be dragged into trouble too."

"I don't have any siblings either," Qin Donglin scoffed with a laugh. "But I've still faced my fair share of punishments."

Not just him—Song Yunhe and Wu Fei were in the same boat. The three of them could practically form a regular punishment squad.

And the culprit behind it all? Sitting right across from him now, cheerfully gloating about not having younger siblings.

Qiu Shi pretended not to hear, her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

The dream—along with the sudden flood of memories that had overwhelmed her mind—should she tell Qin Donglin about it?

And if she did decide to tell him, how should she even begin?

It was clear that Qin Donglin had already noticed her unusual behavior.

After a moment of quiet, Qin Donglin picked up a cup of hot tea, took a sip, and then set it back down on the table with a light "clang" before his voice followed.

"I’ve set up a barrier."

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it now."

Uncharacteristically, Qiu Shi felt a hint of nervousness. She raised her eyes briefly to glance at him, then quickly sorted through her thoughts before carefully sharing the critical details.

"And... that’s basically what happened."

Having finished, Qiu Shi took a sip of the spirit nectar from her cup. The sweet flavor spread across her tongue, and her slightly tense shoulders relaxed. Her tone also became lighter.

"Sounds pretty bizarre, doesn’t it? These past days have been terrible for me—restless and uneasy, like it’s constantly gnawing at me. It feels like this is more than just a dream.”

She struggled to put the feeling into words. "Whether it’s the dream or the things I saw this morning, they’re unbelievably vivid. Those events...they feel as if I’ve truly lived through them."

Qin ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍Donglin hadn't expected her to bring up such a matter. After listening to everything, his long, narrow eyebrows furrowed slightly. He twirled the small, elegant wine glass in his hand for a moment before speaking: "So—"

"The day you saw me, you asked if I had been consumed by darkness because you heard someone call me 'Lord of Demons' in your dream?"

Qiu Shi nodded. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, so she summarized, "No matter whether it was a dream or not, it does count as a warning. You should spend more time cultivating your mind. The Desolation Sword style and the Samsara Blade are dangerous paths—they can easily wear down one's resolve. As for me, I'll do my best to keep my distance from Cheng Yi."

She sighed as if trying to convince herself to remain calm, then muttered under her breath while scooping up a plump, chilled rice dumpling, "Ever since I had this dream, I can’t help but feel something strange when I look at Cheng Yi. I can’t pinpoint exactly what's wrong, though, so saying he's not a good person would seem too rash—after all, he saved me."

"And also saved Mo Ruanruan."

Qin Donglin, clearly unimpressed, showed no interest in Cheng Yi saving Mo Ruanruan.

"If you hadn’t had that dream," he said, leaning forward slightly. His waist pressed against the edge of the table as his long, defined fingers rested lightly on the lid of the teacup. His voice, oddly soft, carried an unsettling undertone. "Or let’s say things unfolded as they did in your dream: your father issued a secret order to eliminate him, and you found out. What would you do?"

"Would you run away with Cheng Yi overnight?"

From that question alone, Qiu Shi sensed a hint of danger. She turned her gaze aside and answered vaguely, "It's hard to make assumptions about something that hasn’t happened. I can’t imagine that scenario. Besides, my father isn’t the type to disregard my wishes."

Qin Donglin closed his eyes briefly, as if contemplating, before letting out a faint laugh—though the laughter didn’t reach his eyes. "It does sound like something you would do."

Indeed, Qiu Shi understood him as well as he understood her.

Whether or not she truly liked Cheng Yi, or how deeply she liked him, the mere fact that her family would conspire behind her back to silently target someone she brought home would be enough to set her off.

She was fiery, impulsive, and would act without caution. Until she vented her frustrations, she wouldn’t be able to let go easily, and would remain bitter for quite some time.

"But," Qiu Shi couldn’t help but counter, "If all I wanted was to send Cheng Yi away and ensure his safety, why wouldn’t I return to the capital after that?"

She dropped her spoon into her cup with a heavy thud and murmured, "I just can’t figure that part out."

"Why would I give up my perfectly comfortable life as a princess to endure hardships with Cheng Yi? Avoiding pursuit, eating poorly, sleeping rough—none of that fits the kind of person I am."

"Even if, at that moment, I realized I’d caused trouble and didn’t have the courage to return to the capital or face my brother—what about you? Why wouldn’t I contact you?"

Qin Donglin couldn’t hold back and let out a sharp laugh, clearly irritated. "You wouldn’t dare face Song Yunhe, but you’d come to me?"

Qiu Shi thought about it seriously, then nodded confidently, "I think I’d reach out to you the day I ran off with Cheng Yi. I’d ask you to hurry back and help settle him somewhere safe, and while you’re at it, let me stay with you for a bit."

"You'll definitely ignore me first, then I'll contact Wu Fei indirectly. After that, you might leave me hanging for two to three days—no more than three days. Then, you'll undoubtedly show up with a scowl on your face, probably dragging either my brother or Wu Fei along to find me."

The mysterious surge of anger rising within Qin Donglin was nearly extinguished by these two sentences, leaving only a flicker of a flame behind. That faint ember swayed for a moment and naturally burned out as well.

Reasoning with Qiu Shi was pointless.

Qiu Shi had her own warped logic, but no real reasoning.

His tall frame languidly leaned against the back of the chair, the air of danger surrounding him dissipating. He raised his eyes and asked, "Did you catch a good look at what you turned out to be in the end? Did you have a rough time?"

Qiu Shi gritted her teeth and nodded slightly.

It wasn't just rough—it was downright infuriating.

A black dragon who originated as a traitor to her own race—she had saved him, supported him, but in the end, he climbed higher and even issued orders to imprison her.

The absurdity of that ending even made her laugh at herself.

Such a fantastical tale was beyond belief. Even Qiu Shi, who personally experienced the dream, struggled to believe it, let alone Qin Donglin, who only heard her description and had been fooled in her youth by a variety of other dreams she'd shared.

He planned to be on guard and thought about asking the ancient sword spirit, who had lived since the primordial times, when he returned.

"Fair enough—consider it a lesson learned."

Qin Donglin tapped his fingers on the desk several times and said, "You live and learn."

"Behave yourself from now on."

"Stop always thinking about running off with others."

=====

When Cheng Yi awakened, every inch of his body was in pain. Especially where Luo Ying had struck his back with full force—it felt as though all the bones had been crushed into powder. Even a slight movement made unbearable waves of cold air pass through his breath.

Qing Feng, who had been keeping vigil in the room, rushed forward excitedly upon seeing him awake. "Young Master, you're awake!"

Cheng Yi’s complexion was pale as snow. He scanned the room briefly before asking in a hoarse voice, "Where am I?"

"Young Master, we're at a relay station, arranged to stay with the Celestial Tribe."

Qing Feng glanced towards the door and lowered his voice. "During the days you were unconscious, the two young celestial kings and the elders of the Celestial Tribe came to visit. The young celestial maiden even instructed that the moment you woke up, we should notify her immediately."

Cheng Yi quickly pieced things together and understood his current situation.

His head throbbed as though it were about to explode. After resting for a moment, he pressed against his throat and asked, "What about the main city? What’s the reaction from those in the main city upon hearing the news?"

This charade only worried him for one reason—he feared that Qiu Shi might find it all too coincidental and grow suspicious.

"No changes—everything is business as usual."

Qing Feng reassured him quickly and pulled out a small black velvet box from the bedside drawer, his face lighting up with joy. "These are two Nine-Turn Elixirs sent by Miss Qiu Shi through the young celestial maiden. Please have a look, Young Master."

The Nine-Turn Elixir is crafted primarily from Nine-Section Ginseng, along with countless additional rare medicinal ingredients. Elixirs of this quality, like the ones in the box, would spark frenzied bidding wars at an auction, fetching astronomical prices. They are priceless treasures.

Cheng Yi glanced at it briefly, quickly catching the key point in the conversation: "Qiu Shi asked the little Celestial Maiden to deliver this?"

Qing Feng, confused, nodded firmly and carefully placed the box back in its original position before asking, “Master, is there something wrong? Is there an issue with the pill?”

Cheng Yi shook his head slowly, his brows furrowed as he delved into his own thoughts.

He and Mo Ruanruan were staying at the same inn. If she wanted to deliver something, just a few steps would suffice. Why would she go out of her way to entrust someone she didn’t have a close relationship with—like Qiu Shi—for such a simple task?

Piecing together what Qing Feng had just mentioned, it meant that during the time he was gravely injured and unconscious, that little princess of the main city didn’t even come by to check on him.

Such a cold and indifferent attitude was worlds apart compared to how she had treated him before—especially considering he once saved her life.

The stark contrast was enough to give him pause and make him ponder deeply.

Did she possibly suspect something?