Li Qiuchen stepped into the dream.
Reina was the first to notice him, her ice-blue eyes flickering slightly.
The Saintess, Your Holiness, her cold and holy aura surrounded him.
“Are you hurt?”
Then came Hestia’s forest scent, swirling around like a breeze, deeply concerned.
“Master, are you alright?”
“No—”
Before Li Qiuchen could finish, he was dragged into the deepest layer of the dream.
He had thought the dream Belinda built would be the Royal Palace or some magnificent Marble Palace.
No one expected it would be a shabby second floor of The Inn.
That was where the two of them had first met.
They lived on the second floor of the Kangxin Inn.
Li Qiuchen was busy with odd jobs to earn money, while the injured Belinda lay on the bed, recovering.
Outside the window came the shouts of merchants and the laughter of children, all rendered in the dream with vivid detail.
He thought she had forgotten.
It had only been half a month, but even he had to pick these memories out from the dusty corners of his mind.
The Princess entered, wearing a plain gray belted long dress, yet even such a drab dress could not hide her noble bearing and sharp aura.
Li Qiuchen felt a laugh bubble up.
How could he have believed, with such peace of mind, that she was just an ordinary fallen noble girl?
He’d run around doing chores for her, and when she complained about the living conditions, he’d roll his eyes and reply: “Live here or don’t, your choice!”
When she complained about the food, he’d retort: “Eat or don’t eat!”
When she doubted the medicine, he’d roughly apply it to her arm: “If it works, good. If not, you’re doomed.”
Ah, if he could’ve foreseen it, he would’ve been more gentle back then.
“What are you thinking?”
Belinda asked, catching the smile at the corner of his lips.
Good.
She hadn’t immediately used the Fool’s Food, and her opening was decent.
But her tone should have been gentler.
The Princess cheered herself on inside.
“Old times,”
Li Qiuchen sat at the table like he used to in those days.
Before eating that piece of green poison cake, there were still some questions he wanted to ask.
“The past is always full of beauty. I often reminisce too,”
Belinda smiled as well.
“Human memory is a strange thing. It covers up all the ugliness of the past, leaving only the sweet parts. Every time you recall, it gets sweeter.”
Li Qiuchen sighed, looking at the girl before him, unable to believe he could still sit down and talk with her.
Three years ago, to end the Cycle of Reincarnation and to ensure the Demon King was destroyed, he leapt into the World-Destroying Demon Flame.
Three years later, in his dreams, they sat peacefully face-to-face.
“It sounds like that time wasn’t beautiful for you?”
Belinda suppressed her displeasure and asked softly.
He remembered the dampness of the rain, the innkeeper’s curses, the hardships of survival, and the girl’s endless complaints.
Of course, there were good times too.
Once, when Belinda had a fever from her wounds and cried into his arm, he’d felt oddly happy.
“You’re human too.”
“No, it was beautiful,” Li Qiuchen nodded obediently, skillfully avoiding the minefields.
After these years together, he knew exactly what would set the red-haired lioness off.
“You can tell the truth. I won’t be angry at your disagreement anymore,” Belinda said calmly.
Only now did Li Qiuchen look up at her.
Three years had left no trace on the Princess’s face—radiant and proud, a beauty nurtured by wealth and gentleness.
Like a rose in full bloom, its petals spread in brilliant color, occupying the center of everyone’s gaze.
“Do you remember what you did to me in those cycles?”
Li Qiuchen asked.
“What I remember is probably completely different from what they told you,”
Belinda’s fingers tapped the table unconsciously, a sign of indecision.
“I remember us living happily together, with five children. I fought on the battlefield, you managed court affairs and led reforms in the Empire. Together we restored the Taya Empire to its most prosperous era. Our achievements were engraved on stone, and our statues filled every city in the Empire.”
Her thoughts seemed to drift to those story endings.
“Later, I passed the throne to our best child. We traveled the continent. You read me the Poems you wrote. I remember it clearly.”
Her eyes glimmered with tears.
“Those Poems were a little different each lifetime, but I remember every single one. I remember them all.”
Three people, three completely different stories.
He had long guessed it.
Thinking back now, such perfectly-timed memories felt like a well-crafted lie.
Three thousand cycles of reincarnation—there must be things that were real, and things that were false.
But everyone believed the part that suited them.
“Did you ever consider it was all fake?”
Li Qiuchen asked.
“So, I really went mad and tied you up?”
The red flames in Belinda’s eyes flared.
She clenched her fist, trembling as she fought to control her anger.
“Why are their memories real, but mine are fake?”
Why don’t you believe me?!
Do you know how much it hurt when you let go of the Silver Key?
How desperate I was when you jumped into the flames?
For three years, I have relived the pain of watching you run to your death every moment.
But your soul had not yet faded.
I could not leave you behind for the next life.
“No. I don’t think anyone’s story is absolutely true or false. It’s just that the whole thing feels too coincidental. I just happen to lack memories of those three thousand cycles. What Hestia showed me was—”
Li Qiuchen recalled the terrifying flood of memories.
Now that he thought about it, they seemed more like a pile of fragments.
“Fragments of memory.”
If three thousand cycles were real, each of them should be more composed, not so frantic.
“Do you think someone could plant false memories in us without our noticing?”
Belinda felt as if he was still avoiding the issue.
She was a sensitive person, able to perceive killing intent and others’ emotions keenly.
She had sensed it early on—that the boy wanted to escape, even avoid her.
At first, she thought it was because of his status.
She was willing to wait, to let him feel her respect and equal standing.
But he never took that step.
She grew impatient—she was never patient, not even as a child.
She trained with the sword to lead armies, led armies to restore the Empire.
She chose her path as a child.
Because of the sword, she left the Royal Palace as soon as she came of age, avoiding her parents.
Only by defeating the Demon King could she become famous and unite the continent.
She was always a person with a clear goal.
So, she couldn’t wait forever for this blockhead to grow courage.
If he wouldn’t step forward, she’d push him, step by step, until he caught the Silver Key she placed in his hand.
Why?!
Why still run away?
“You haven’t told me—why did you throw away the Silver Key and run?”
Belinda’s gaze burned, like an interrogator’s.
“Do you really think I’d lock you up in the palace because of what they said?”
Those so-called cycles of reincarnation were just things that hadn’t happened to them yet.
How could he leave her for that?
“You answer me first,” Li Qiuchen cut her off, finally voicing a question he had buried for so long.
“Do you love me, or do you love the boy who saved you that night?”
He stared at her.
He’d been overwhelmed by Belinda’s burning love.
He didn’t even understand how it started—he agreed before he had time to refuse.
If it was just gratitude for saving her life, there was no need.
He’d eventually leave anyway.
But as they spent more time together, he no longer dared to ask.
Now, even though they were a world apart in the dream, he desperately wanted an answer.
“What do you mean? That was you too.”
Belinda looked confused.
“Yes. That was me.”
Li Qiuchen nodded.
He suddenly thought of Hoen, the man driven mad by love.
“But some people chase after love in a way that’s too obsessive—like pursuing a phantom.”
He refused to accept his lover’s death, even killing innocent passersby.
Did he love his dead wife, or the longing he placed on her?
Love can turn to sickness.
Love can turn to madness.
To love so much you lock yourself up, becoming incomprehensible to anyone.
Is that still love?
“I didn’t!”
Belinda denied it.
Li Qiuchen sensed her distress.
He grinned and muttered, “I want to eat some cake.”
Seeing the green cake in her hand, Belinda’s fear was obvious.
She even seemed aggrieved, loosening her clenched fist.
“I didn’t get angry at you or do anything. Why are you like this?”
Li Qiuchen tried to comfort her.
“Belinda, you don’t need to be this tired.”
He looked at the once-noble girl, now with reddened eyes.
There was no satisfaction in his heart, only bitterness.
Clearly, she was the one trying to control him.
But now, she looked like the one trapped in a cage.
“A little time apart will let us both cool down,” Li Qiuchen said, biting into the cake.
The emerald Lizard Venom was unexpectedly sweet, tasting a bit like apple mousse cake.
Before he could savor it, the poison kicked in.
His face turned green and he collapsed on the table.
Belinda pulled a Golden Dagger from her sleeve.
She tilted her head back, trying not to cry.
She’d hated crying since childhood.
Her mother said tears were a tool for the weak to beg for mercy.
The Belinda von Taya Family needed no weaklings.
Yet tears still fell down her cheeks.
She wanted to explain it all.
She had even brought this dagger that could inflict real pain in a dream.
She didn’t want to hurt him.
She just hoped he’d accept the dagger and use it to protect himself.
She would never hurt him.
Those cycles of reincarnation they spoke of were just false dreams—things yet to happen.
She could wait.
This loss taught her that as long as nothing was set in stone, she could wait!
Wait until the boy understood her love, accepted being with her, and wrote her Poems.
If she ever did hurt him, he could use the dagger to punish her.
Belinda gently placed the dagger in his hand, then pressed it into her own chest.
Even in a dream, the Golden Dagger could inflict real pain.
Her chest was pierced, agony spreading from the wound.
Blood dripped from Li Qiuchen’s hand onto the inn floor.
Compared to the joy of reunion, this pain was nothing.
Just like in all her previous lives—after his death, she followed him the same way.
She never told him.
In every life, they died together.
She clung to him, even in the grave, inseparable.
When the world changed, war came and went, and the battlefield turned into a Rose Field, their bodies decayed, becoming two white skeletons.
Her bones would press tightly to his—bones.