Chapter 39: Midnight Terror.

It’s common knowledge that everything in dreams is fake, except for two things.

One is the urge to use the bathroom. The other… well, you know.

Lu Zhao was dealing with the first right now, but the path to the bathroom felt impossibly tough.

A hot, humid tunnel pressed in from both sides, its familiar, soft, elastic walls carrying a faint, milky scent mixed with alcohol.

Pushing left, his fingers sank into the wall, leaving a dent.

But then the right side squeezed in, forcing him to push back.

Was he imagining it? Each push seemed to draw faint moans from behind the walls.

Struggling through the tunnel, he finally woke up—sweating.

Summer was hot, but a sealed room with three people crammed on one bed? Swelteringly unbearable.

Wait. Three people? Since when?

Drenched in sweat, Lu Zhao tried to gauge the situation through touch.

To his left, a woman held him tightly, her chest as his pillow.

That had to be Yan Qingxin.

But who was on his right, pinning his arm in her… valley?

Brushing past the fabric on Yan Qingxin’s chest, he cautiously turned right—and nearly died of shock.

You?! Why are you here? And where’s your clothes?

Yu Baowei, clutching his arm, chest pressed close, slept soundly, her face on his shoulder, a fair leg draped over his stomach.

He racked his brain about last night.

They got drunk. I barely got Qingxin to the room, then she pulled me down with her.

Her freakish strength kept me pinned, and I passed out.

But when did this one show up?

He tried scratching his head, but moving his right arm drew a soft “Mmm~” from Yu Baowei.

He froze, not daring to move again.

This was bad. The last time he was this close to disaster was with Ling Chenxi’s reckless intrusion.

That hotel room was dark, but here, streetlights lit the room enough to see.

You closed the windows but not the curtains? he groaned inwardly.

Earlier, Yu Baowei had gotten up to use the bathroom, groggy from drinking.

Too hot, she’d stripped off her T-shirt, revealing the shorts Lu Zhao hadn’t seen.

Then she saw the couple cuddling on her bed.

“Such a sweet couple… let Auntie share some of your bliss.”

Sober, she’d have left. But drunk, she climbed in beside Lu Zhao.

Propping her cheek, she watched Yan Qingxin’s blissful face and poked her cheek.

“So jealous, Qingxin. You found such a great guy.”

Her gaze shifted to Lu Zhao. “Handsome, cooks well, smart, kind, and so good to Qingxin. Tsk… why can’t I find one?”

Her hazy eyes deepened, lips bitten, legs rubbing together.

Leaning close, she sniffed his neck. “Smells so good.”

His scent intoxicated her further, her body inching closer.

“Just for a bit… just a little while…” she murmured, dreamlike.

At first, she only rested her forehead on his shoulder. Then, she fell asleep.

Instinctively, her body clung to his arm, pressing tight.

Lu Zhao couldn’t fathom that their cuddling had stirred Yu Baowei’s longing to feel a man’s presence.

If he’d known, he’d have broken free from Yan Qingxin and bolted.

Now what? How to handle this?

If Yan Qingxin woke up and saw her beloved “Auntie” blatantly stealing her man…

The thought gave him a headache.

Dizzy from the heat, he forced his muddled brain to think.

Struggling free would wake one—maybe both. Total disaster.

Best case: wake Yu Baowei quietly, get her to leave, or have her help free him from Yan Qingxin.

Yeah, that’s the plan.

But with both arms pinned, how to wake her?

Looking at Yu Baowei’s state, he steeled himself.

What’s done is done. Might as well.

He leaned close, whispering, “Miss Yu, wake up! Stop sleeping!”

His right hand fidgeted restlessly.

The slick sensation from his arm quickened his pulse, but he couldn’t stop.

Finally, Yu Baowei cracked her eyes open—but things didn’t go as planned.

“Hm? Why’re you in my bed? Oh… must be a dream. Back to sleep.” She mumbled, about to close her eyes.

Lu Zhao panicked. A dream?

“Keep sleeping?! This isn’t a dream! Look at this mess!”

“Huh? Oh… hehe.” Seeing his face so close, she giggled.

“What’re you doing~ so close to Sister? Want a kiss? Fine~ but no fussing after, even in dreams. Sleep nice.”

“…” Lu Zhao was speechless. Her soft lips cut him off before he could protest.

“!”

What’s with this woman’s thirst? And who’s close to you?

This isn’t a dream!

Good news: his arm was free.

Bad news: his head was trapped, and she was kissing him.

He stared, wide-eyed. His freed arm hesitated—she had no safe spot to push.

He missed his chance to wake her. His arm was pinned again, and she was out cold.

What was this? Waking her just to get kissed and humiliated?

He sank into thought.

Turning to check on Yan Qingxin, her open eyes nearly stopped his heart.

Every hair stood on end, muscles tensing.

In the stifling heat, he felt frozen from head to toe.

“Qing… Qingxin? You’re… awake,” he stammered softly.