After Transmigrating, I Died of Depression Without My Phone - Chapter 98.2

But how could it have ended up in Yu Xie’s hands?

Who exactly was he?

Long Xiang hurried home, and that night, as usual, she took a melatonin pill so she could sleep soundly without having any insane dreams.

She slept through the night without a single dream. The next day, she didn’t even go to school. Instead, she rushed to the temple to find the white marble pavilion deep inside.

The pavilion was picturesque, though closed to the public. She could only stand outside and peer in.

It was an overcast day, and a light mist hung in the air. The pavilion seemed enveloped in a veil of fog, and through the haze, she thought she saw something unusual — a bright moon shining in the pavilion, its glow far more brilliant than the sun.

A moon?

It reminded Long Xiang of how Beiting Xue was always surrounded by moonlight whenever he made prophecies.

The way he shone alongside the moon had always made her feel as though she had opened her WeChat to relive a cherished memory.

She couldn’t enter the pavilion, but seeing this was enough.

Without asking the temple staff about a monk named Yu Xie, Long Xiang turned and left.

Having retrieved Beiting Xue’s protective scale, she felt a warmth blooming in her chest, a stirring even stronger than before.

When she returned to school, she found herself unable to focus in class. Her roommates, noticing her odd behavior, decided to cheer her up by taking her out for some fun.

That evening, the four of them dragged Long Xiang to a foot massage parlor.

Yes, it was quite a healthy activity. They went for a foot bath and massage — a purely wholesome, green experience.

The newly opened parlor had a lovely environment and only served female clients. The massage therapists were all skilled, professional women. At first, Long Xiang felt a bit reserved, but by the end, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Her body felt relaxed, and her mood lifted considerably. She realized that, no matter what, finding Beiting Xue’s protective scale was a good omen. Maybe even better things were waiting for her ahead.

In her newfound happiness, she got a little carried away. Before heading back to the dorm, she and her roommates went out for a few drinks.

Long Xiang had a bit too much to drink, and by the time she returned to the dorm, she was tipsy but not completely drunk. After taking a shower and lying down, she was fully intoxicated.

And because she was drunk, she went straight to sleep, forgetting to take her usual medication.

Almost as soon as she drifted off, a familiar scene unfolded before her.

Delicate curtains billowed, and clouds rolled and scattered. A familiar figure emerged hurriedly from behind the gauzy veil. Dressed in flowing white robes, with long black hair cascading down his back, he moved like a dark yet enchanting butterfly.

“Why haven’t you come to see me these past few days?”

He grabbed her hand, his voice steady but laced with suppressed desire, and said slowly, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Beiting Xue’s tone was calm, completely unlike the frenzy he had displayed over the past few days, venting his madness on the Golden Crow and the Heavenly Dao in Long Xiang’s absence from his dreams.

He stared intently into Long Xiang’s eyes, but before she could answer, he suddenly frowned and said, “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”

He leaned in closer, catching the unfamiliar scent of alcohol, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Even the mere scent seemed intoxicating.

Though dreaming, Long Xiang was still slightly drunk. She felt dizzy and gave him a weak shove, mumbling, “Don’t come any closer. I’m a person of high moral character, above such base desires. I won’t give in.”

Beiting Xue paused, staring at her, unsure of what she meant.

Frustrated, Long Xiang tugged at her collar to catch her breath.

Blushing, she glared at Beiting Xue and solemnly declared, “I won’t get worked up over the fake you in this dream anymore, understand?”

“…”

Before, he hadn’t understood, but now he did.

Beiting Xue’s expression shifted unpredictably. He tilted his head slightly, his long hair slipping off his shoulder as his eyes glimmered like emeralds, as sharp as a cat’s.

“But I’m not fake.”

His tone was gentle, and his voice soft, but even in her drunken state, Long Xiang heard him clearly.

“Long Xiang, I’m real.”

He recalled her past actions, awkwardly but tenderly imitating her as he added, “Touch me and you’ll see—I’m not fake.”

Long Xiang, still drunk and not fully conscious, followed his lead without thinking.

She reached out and touched his chest, then his arm, frowning in confusion. After a long pause, she sighed deeply and said, “You’re even more of an illusion like this. Beiting Xue would never act like this—”

Before she could finish her sentence, something flew out from her chest, darting straight toward him.

Panicked, Long Xiang reached out to grab it, but even though she moved quickly, she wasn’t fast enough.

Her hand froze in mid-air as she watched Beiting Xue’s protective scale return to his body in the dream. In that instant, her drunken haze cleared.

The scale was gone.

That was her first thought.

It had returned to the Beiting Xue in her dream.

That was her second thought.

Suddenly realizing what was happening, Long Xiang’s eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. She only managed to catch a glimpse of his face before a flash of white light filled the dream, and a sharp pain in her head jolted her awake.

She sat up abruptly, throwing off the blanket and frantically feeling around her body. The protective scale was truly gone.

That scale belonged to Beiting Xue. Although she didn’t know why it had been given to her by that moon-like monk in the modern world, the scale’s unique nature limited its owners. Other than herself, only Beiting Xue could draw it to him.

So, the person in the dream was really him, not some figment of her imagination.

Long Xiang wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed or happy.

Last time, thinking it was just a dream, she hadn’t held back at all—no restraint whatsoever. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to say a single word.

Who knew what Beiting Xue must think of that?

But compared to the fact that she had seen the real Beiting Xue, none of that mattered!

Immediately, Long Xiang pulled the blanket over her head and lay back down, determined to fall back asleep and pick up where the dream had left off.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, sleep wouldn’t come.

Damn it.

She was too excited, so excited that she couldn’t sleep at all.

No way! How could she fail at such a crucial moment?

Desperate, Long Xiang stuck her head out from under the blanket and called out to Song Qingtong, who was sound asleep in the bed next to her, “Qingtong, quick, knock me out!”

Song Qingtong muttered, “…You’re definitely still drunk.”