Deep into the night.
Inside an exquisitely crafted Western-style mansion, every furnishing was priceless.
Xia Xingchen lay sprawled, groggy, on an antique canopy bed, its every intricate pattern hand-carved by master artisans.
Suddenly, the door swung open. Several figures entered in quick succession, each taking positions rigidly at attention by the doorway, awaiting the final arrival. A man strode in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.
The room was pitch black. Xia Xingchen strained to open her eyes, desperate to see the newcomers, but her consciousness was a fog. Only a tall, imposing silhouette registered in the gloom. Moonlight filtering through a window barely illuminated him, yet she could feel the commanding presence that demanded submission – an aura that made one want to bow.
"Is this her?" The man's voice was a low rumble, vibrating in the darkness.
"Yes, Your Excellency. She's the only compatible match in the blood bank."
A dismissive wave of the man's hand, and the attendants vanished as silently as they had appeared, leaving no trace of their passage.
...
Gasp!
Xia Xingchen's eyes flew open. Bright sunlight streamed into the room now, yet a cold sweat still slicked her slender back.
She'd just had a dream! A vivid dream! There had been a man... but frustratingly, his face remained blurred. Who was he?
Breathing heavily, she clutched the covers and slowly sat up. Her body protested violently, aching everywhere as if she'd been trampled by a truck.
She frowned.
If it was just a dream... it felt terrifyingly real!
Xia Xingchen felt utterly ridiculous. Since when had she become such a hopeless romantic? She had a boyfriend! Yet here she was, dreaming of... that... with a stranger. And the absurd cherry on top? She hazily recalled the man demanding she bear him a child?
Preposterous! She was only eighteen! Who did he think he was?
Yet, this bizarre, strangely erotic dream haunted Xia Xingchen relentlessly for an entire week. It even crossed her mind that it wasn't a dream at all. It felt too tangible... too real.
Real enough to recall the aggressive, almost primal scent of his male presence. Real enough to remember the chilling, utterly emotionless depths of his eyes.
Those obsidian-dark irises... noble, inscrutable, profoundly mysterious...
He seemed so impossibly elevated, aloof and untouchable, as if from another world entirely. Surely, such a man couldn't exist in reality?
So, Xia Xingchen convinced herself again: It was just a dream. Only a dream.
...
Two months later.
Xia Xingchen was in her room, reciting English passages. As she reached a section of Shakespeare, a violent wave of nausea surged through her.
"Ugh!" Unable to suppress it, she clamped a hand over her mouth, flung open her door, and bolted for the bathroom. She wrenched open the toilet lid, dropped to her knees, and retched violently.
"Young Mistress, are you alright?" A maid, hearing the commotion, rushed in, patting her back.
The disturbance drew Xia Xingkong from another room. Her half-sister took one look at Xia Xingchen's state and knelt beside her, concern etched on her face. "Sister? Did you eat something bad?"
Xia Xingchen lacked the strength to answer. She weakly flushed the toilet and tried to stand, only for another wave of sickness to buckle her knees.
What's wrong with me? Did I really eat something spoiled?
The next day.
Xia Xingchen went to the hospital, accompanied by her boyfriend, Xu Yan.
They started at the gastroenterology department. But the doctor, after a brief examination, directed them to gynecology.
"Doctor, what did you say? There must be a mistake!"
The results left both Xia Xingchen and Xu Yan pale with shock.
"Mistake? Young people these days, never careful. Getting pregnant so young. No fear when you're doing the deed, plenty of fear now, eh?"
"I... my girlfriend and I... we haven't even... we haven't gone that far!" Xu Yan stammered, his face flushing crimson.
The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose, his gaze shifting pointedly from the flustered Xu Yan to Xia Xingchen, frozen in horrified disbelief beside him. "Well then," he said, his tone thick with implication, "you might want to ask your girlfriend who else she's gone 'that far' with. If it wasn't you..."
Xu Yan froze. The doctor's words landed like a sledgehammer. He turned to Xia Xingchen, disbelief warring with dawning horror in his eyes.
Xia Xingchen shook her head, her lips quivering. "I... I haven't been with any man..."
The words were meant as a firm denial, yet the uncertainty lurking in her own heart screamed louder than anyone else could hear. If she was pregnant... the only possible explanation was those nights...
They weren't dreams.
"Oh, come now," the doctor scoffed dismissively. "You're not the Virgin Mary, girl. Seeds don't sprout without being sown! Think hard. Has your period been missing? Are you constantly tired? Feeling dizzy and foggy-headed?"
"..." Xia Xingchen was rendered speechless by the barrage of damningly accurate questions.
...
It felt like being struck by lightning.
The drive back from the hospital was silent, both their faces ashen. In the grand living room of the Xia residence, Xia Xingchen knelt on the floor. Her father, Xia Guopeng, sat rigidly in the master chair, his expression glacial.
"You say the child isn't Xu Yan's?" His voice was a whip crack. "Then who does it belong to?"
"...I don't know." Xia Xingchen's voice was thin, floating in the air. She desperately wished someone could give her the answer.
"Don't know?! How dare you lie!" Xia Guopeng roared, slamming his palm down on the armrest with a sharp crack. "I'm asking you again! Who is the father?!"
"Father, please, don't ask again." Xia Xingchen met his furious gaze, her voice hollow but resolute. "No matter how many times you ask... I still don't know."