“I don't want to see those flowers,” she said abruptly.

“Why?”

“I don't want to see any flowers from now on!” she cried out as she hugged him back tighter than before.

Mo Jiangye's forehead creased in perplexity and worry.

“What are you afraid of?”

All of a sudden, the woman seemed to regain her senses. “Come again?”

His face sank further when he sensed his wife's peculiar behavior, but when he put a hand on her forehead to check if she was running a fever, her body temperature seemed to be at a normal level.

“Just sleep, babe,” he whispered to her as he stroked her head soothingly.

Ye Erruo pursed her lips in confusion, wondering why she was experiencing hallucinations when she had not done anything tiring lately.

Her erratic heartbeat gradually slowed down and stabilized as she buried her face in her husband's chest. She lay there without moving for quite a while but was still unable to fall asleep.

“Is the car not fixed yet?” the man hissed at his driver.

“I've arranged for another car to fetch you back first. It's almost here.”

At that moment, two cars drove over from the opposite side of the road.

The couple got into one of the cars and headed back home.

Upon arriving, Mo Jiangye alighted from the car with his wife, who he thought was fast asleep, in his arms. He was moving very carefully to avoid disturbing her.

“Are we home already?”

“Weren't you asleep?”

“Yeah…” She made him set her down on her feet.

The servants had already prepared dinner for them, so they went ahead and had their meal as soon as they got back home. Once Ye Erruo was done with her dinner, she left the dining table first to take a quick, simple shower to freshen up.

Somehow, she had felt inexplicably irritated at the sight of those flowers. It was why all the flowers in the manor, both real and artificial, had been removed at once.

“Are we still receiving flower deliveries?”

“Yes, Young Madam. They deliver flowers on time every single day, come rain or s.h.i.+ne. The thing is, the frequency of the deliveries has increased significantly. They used to only deliver them once or twice a day at most. Recently, however, there have been about three to four deliveries a day.”

In fact, the servant had developed the habit of going out to receive the flowers at fixed times every day.

“If the flower deliveries continue, just dump the flowers outside straight away and don't bring them into the house. Tell the delivery man to stop delivering them, or else we'll sue him for hara.s.sment.”

“Yes, Young Madam.”

Mo Jiangye saw the two of them talking as soon as he came up to the second floor after finis.h.i.+ng his meal.

“Young Master.” The servant greeted him before she quietly took her leave.

“What's going on?” The man approached his woman and hugged her from the back.

“It's nothing.” She turned around to return the hug. “It's getting late. We ought to go to bed.”

That night, Ye Erruo had difficulty falling asleep. She stared unblinkingly at the ceiling above as she lay motionless in bed, trying not to rouse the man from his slumber.

The hallucinations haunted her all day and night, yet she had no idea what was causing them.

Her anxiety soon got the best of her, but it was past two in the morning by then.

Her husband suddenly flipped her over to face him, his gaze fixed closely on her as he turned on the bedside lamp.

“Answer me truthfully: What's causing your panic attack?”

“Did I wake you up?” She draped her arms around his neck.

“Why couldn't you fall asleep?”

Every night, the man would only enter deep sleep after his wife did, so he could tell whether or not she was asleep just by listening to her breathing.

“I'm not sleepy.”

Mo Jiangye's eyes dimmed. “Something's troubling you.”

“I'm unsure myself.” She felt so perturbed by the hallucinations that she did not know what she should say about them.

“You're unsure?”

“I've been seeing some strange images in my mind all day. They flash by so quickly that I can't clearly capture them.”

“Images?”

“Yeah.” It was truly bizarre that she felt distraught, empty, and panicky because of them.

“What kind of images?”

Just what kind of images could make her so unsettled and restless?

“They're all blurry.” She could not quite explain them.

“Blurry images? Don't dwell on such useless things, babe. If you have the time, you might as well think of me more often,” he gently cooed into her ear.