Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 315: Sweet Dream? Nightmare?

Chapter 315: Chapter 315: Sweet Dream? Nightmare?

He told himself that tomorrow would be a beautiful day.

The sound of insects outside the window had disappeared at some point, and the night became exceptionally quiet. He Xing closed his eyes and listened carefully, as if he could almost hear Fu Han’s heartbeat.

He turned over, and his hand landed on a soft waist. Fu Han’s waist was slender and supple, hardly a handful, and it felt really good.

He Xing stretched out his long arm and pulled Fu Han into his embrace, feeling a heat rising from his abdomen and spreading to his limbs and bones.

His lips fell on the back of Fu Han’s neck, and his restless hands fanned the flames. The person in his arms woke up from her sleep with a low hum, turned to face him, and took the initiative to offer her cherry lips.

He Xing was overjoyed, but his hands were efficient; in just a moment, he had removed Fu Han’s silk nightgown, and he pressed himself tightly against her.

The light of dawn shone in, and He Xing opened his eyes to the person in his arms as he whispered softly, "Xiaohan, it’s time to get up."

But as he looked down, he was startled; this wasn’t Fu Han at all, but Xia Ning.

He Xing pushed Xia Ning away and sat up abruptly, pointing at her and asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Husband, what are you talking about?" The sunlight fell on Xia Ning’s bare shoulders, reflecting like a mirror. She held the corner of the blanket, her face blushing shyly as she looked at He Xing, "He Xing, didn’t we just get married yesterday? Have you forgotten?"

As she spoke, she reached out to touch He Xing’s forehead but was met with a slap to her hand, "Don’t touch me, I want to marry Fu Han, not you."

"Fu Han?" Xia Ning repeated, and a cold smile slowly crept across her cheeks. She looked at He Xing and said word by word, "Didn’t you kill Fu Han yourself? What are you looking for Fu Han for?"

He Xing’s mind was in turmoil, and he stared at Xia Ning in shock, unable to utter a word.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and He Xing turned his head sharply to look; the room was pitch black, and Xia Ning was gone?

It took He Xing a while to realize he was still lying in bed and it wasn’t yet dawn. The scene just now had been a dream.

The voice of Old Zhou came from outside, "Young master, it’s getting late. It’s time for you to get up."

"Alright, I know." He Xing responded, never before so relieved that Old Zhou had woken him up and spared him from the terror of the dream.

When he got out of bed, he realized he was drenched in cold sweat. He slipped into his slippers and went to the restroom to shower.

He had had dreams before, but after waking up he would let them go. However, today’s dream lingered in his heart, and Xia Ning’s words - "You killed Fu Han" - replayed in his mind over and over again.

The unease that He Xing had suppressed the previous night now surged a thousandfold. Unable to wait even a second, he hastily rinsed off and wrapped in a bath towel, he headed for Fu Han’s room. He had to see Fu Han right away, could not wait a second longer.

For the first time, he pounded on Fu Han’s door with clenched fists. When he finally heard footsteps inside the room, a weight lifted from his heart.

Fu Han was woken up by He Xing’s noise and was bristling with annoyance. As she opened the door, she burst out angrily, "What on earth do you want in the middle of the night? My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet."

He Xing didn’t feel the slightest bit wrong about Fu Han’s temper; in fact, he was exhilarated to see such a vivid Fu Han. He pulled her into his embrace, "Xiaohan, seeing you is so good. I... I had a dream I lost you. I was so afraid, I had to see you immediately."

Fu Han had sent He Xing a message last night as a final chance, hoping He Xing would confess on his own. Sadly, He Xing had not done so but had deflected the conversation.

Truthfully, Fu Han hadn’t slept well all night, and she felt as if she’d just fallen asleep when He Xing knocked.

She was full of anger, but when He Xing embraced her without a care and admitted he came because of a nightmare, her heart softened—utterly softened.

Fu Han patted He Xing’s back, "Alright, it’s just a dream. Now you’ve seen me, I’m right here, perfectly fine. Hurry back and get dressed so you don’t catch a cold."

Only then did He Xing realize he was only wearing a towel, and he smiled sheepishly. Yet his hands remained wrapped around Fu Han’s waist, refusing to let go. He kissed her forehead, "Xiaohan, you’ll never leave me, right?"

In Fu Han’s dim room, only the faint corridor light offered any illumination. She looked up at He Xing but felt as though she couldn’t see his face clearly, except for his eyes, which shone eerily bright, like magnets drawing in all the light.

Her heart softened, thinking that for Grandfather He’s sake, she would marry He Xing today. Since that was the case, why should she insist on whether she would leave He Xing or not?

Between the two of them, at least one person was happy, and that was enough.

"Mm, I won’t leave you," said Fu Han, though her heart was filled with boundless sadness.

She knew very well how much she liked He Xing and how happy she was in his embrace, but she also knew some things that had happened could not be undone.

He Xing, however, was completely unaware of Fu Han’s complicated feelings because he had received the answer he longed for—that Fu Han would never leave him.

His heart filled with joy, he rested his chin on top of Fu Han’s head. Her hair was soft and tickled his chin, but this was the taste of happiness.

He Xing’s lips slowly moved down, first landing on Fu Han’s smooth forehead, then on her delicate nose, but just as his lips were about to touch Fu Han’s, she pushed him away.

Taken aback, He Xing nearly lost his balance, almost falling backward. He looked at Fu Han in astonishment, not understanding why her attitude had changed so drastically.

Because of He Xing’s aggressive movement, the corridor light brightened, and his face finally became clear in front of Fu Han.

Looking at He Xing’s pale and hurt expression, Fu Han felt a pang of guilt, her face warming, "I mean, I... I haven’t brushed my teeth yet."