As Milo finally drifted off to sleep, his mind conjured up a dream, one that felt all too real. It was an odd feeling, he could tell he was the one the dream was about, yet... It wasn't him in the dream. Ancient Chinese relics surrounded him, the scene of a traditional wedding taking place. The person he seemed to be beamed happiness, but there was an air of concern about him. Milo could feel his heart racing, but at the same time, he felt guilty. Whatever hall they seemed to be in was elaborately decorated, and he imagined Xiao Yu would have a hay day exploring even just the ruins of a building like this. At the thought of Xiao Yu, the man in his dream seemed to get even giddier. Watching closely, Milo followed his eyes to a woman busting through the doors at impossible speeds for a gal in a wheelchair before almost running into a burly man that gave Milo mixed emotions. It wasn't soon before the two retreated into a back room, and Milo was left feeling mixed emotions.<br/><br/>A flurry of good and bad ideas seemed to flood his mind, and the woman in the wheelchair made up most of them. The man seemed concerned about breaking some kind of rule, but Milo could also sense so much before he was flooded with more and more emotions. He wasn't sure if he was about to cry, and if the tears would be ones of joy, or ones of pain. One thought stuck out though, deeply rooted in both the man and Milo.<i>Is this what she wants? </i>It seemed to echo between the two men, Milo and the stranger of his dream. As both men seemed to merge, Milo and the man's heart seemed to thud harder and harder in his chest as they waited for the bride to come. Like he'd been experiencing with Xiao Yu, all of this felt familiar. Too familiar for someone with his memory to bot be able to recall.<br/><br/>Despite being a dream, the longer it went on, the more he seemed to become the mysterious man in the dream. Every word rang through his own ears, the heat of every body in the room merged with his own. The winds coming through the door and the pops of every candle made his skin tingle, the thudding of his anxious heart like the ancient gong on the wall itself. His vision blurred for a moment, and Milo knew it was the tears in the man's eyes. Reaching up, he wiped the tears out of his eye, feeling the soft of his own robe brushing against his skin. His gaze kept returning to the room Xiao Yu... No, Wuqing was in. Milo's every impulse and urge wanted to be in that room, to embrace the woman in there. Lengxie's presence wouldn't change a thing, this love he felt so deep inside of him was shouting louder than the chattering of every person in the hall. Milo and the man he was right now weren't just in the same body, they were the same. Slowly, thoughts of his students came, the endless hours spent behind numerous texts. Everything seemed so right. The piece that Xiao Yu made him feel like he was missing came rushing back, a wave of memories he'd just remembered. The soft conversations beneath the cherry blossoms, the lessons Wuqing had been part of. Lengxie's fight with him. His poem to Wuqing. The bridge. But time itself seemed to stop as the two Constables finally came out of the room, Wuqing looking like the world's finest treasure, the most precious relic to ever bless this earth with her presence.