Chapter 29: Dreaming of Uncle Julian?

Willow Avery racked her brain and finally remembered why the sensation felt so familiar.

She had only ever touched one man in her life—Julian.

This was exactly how his abdominal muscles felt.

She shifted her gaze upward, and sure enough, she saw Julian’s face.

"Uncle Julian?!"

Willow let out a cry of shock, but then she quickly remembered that she was at the Kingston Estate.

Julian was supposed to be at his penthouse.

She withdrew her hand and huddled back into the blanket, unable to stop herself from muttering, "How am I dreaming about Uncle Julian again? And... he’s not even wearing clothes..."

Julian was actually provoked into a short laugh.

He was feeling incredibly uncomfortable because of her, yet she thought she was in a dream.

And what did "again" mean?

Did she dream about him often?

Willow was still immersed in her "dream." "I heard people say that during your period, it’s easy to think about that kind of thing. But I’m not even on mine yet; how strange."

The girl was muttering to herself, completely unaware of what those words meant to a man who had been celibate for a long time.

Julian’s eyes darkened. He knelt halfway on the bed, bracing his arms on either side of Willow’s head, staring directly at her.

Half of her face was tucked into the blanket, leaving only her hazy eyes exposed.

Stripped of her usual innocent look, she appeared intoxicatingly alluring.

After a long moment of suppression, he managed to control his impulse, speaking in an extremely raspy voice: "Don't talk nonsense."

Willow blinked. Was the Uncle Julian in her dreams always this overbearing?

And there was the scent of herbal medicine...

Wait.

Why would there be medicinal scents in a dream?

The incense in her room didn't smell like this.

There was only one possibility left.

This was reality.

Willow snapped fully awake, stammering, "Un—Uncle Julian, why... why are you in my room?"

Julian spoke calmly: "This is my room."

His room had always been on the first floor of the estate.

He just hadn't expected Willow to be staying here as well.

"Yours?"

Willow instinctively looked around. She couldn't see clearly, but she could tell the layout was different from her room.

She really had entered the wrong room.

She had slept in her uncle's bed.

Covered herself with her uncle's blanket.

And even touched her uncle's abs.

Now, her uncle was hovering over her, only thirty centimeters away.

"Uncle Julian," she apologized quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose."

She had been too tired lately, and her brain was in a fog.

She tentatively moved her body, saying timidly, "Uncle Julian, you're pinning me down... I can't move..."

His hands were braced on the blanket; she had no way to get out.

The veins on Julian’s forehead throbbed.

This kind of unconscious flirting was the most lethal.

After two seconds of silence, he straightened his body and got off the bed.

Willow scrambled out from under the blanket.

But the dark environment made it feel as if they were doing something scandalous, so she reflexively turned on the bedside lamp.

"Don't—"

Julian’s warning came too late.

The prominent bulge beneath his waist hadn't subsided yet.

He could only turn his back to the girl.

"Uncle Julian!"

Suddenly, a gasp came from behind him: "Your back..."

Julian licked his dry lips.

Had she seen it?

Willow had a pure personality; would she think he was harassing her?

But a physiological reaction wasn't something that would subside just because he wanted it to.

Just as he was thinking of how to explain, a soft little hand touched his back. "Did you get hurt when you fell in the bathroom that day?"

The man had cool, pale skin, making the bruise stand out vividly.

Willow was overwhelmed with guilt.

It was all her fault.

If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have fallen.

Only then did Julian realize Willow was referring to the injury on his back.

"It's fine," he said softly. "Just a minor injury."

Willow wanted to speak again, but Julian cut her off, his voice carrying a hint of cold hardness this time: "Go back to sleep."

After a moment's hesitation, Willow walked out.

Lying in her own bed, she was too worried to sleep.

It was her fault; she had to make amends.

Tomorrow, she would buy some ointment for her uncle.

While making up her mind, Willow heard the sound of water from outside.

She checked the time on her phone.

It was already two in the morning.

Did her uncle have OCD? Even a clumsy accidental touch from her required him to take a shower.

But her uncle's abs...

They were so hot.

...

When Willow entered the dining room the next morning, Julian was already seated.

Because of Grandpa Sterling's earlier comments, she specifically noticed the tableware.

Sure enough, his set was different from everyone else's.

Sterling noticed Willow's gaze and said, "Ignore him. Julian has been fussy since he was a kid. Just eat your breakfast."

Willow sat down as told.

"By the way," Sterling added while placing food in her bowl, "the plumbing in Julian's penthouse is leaking, so he’s moving back to the estate for a while. His original room is right next to yours. If that's inconvenient, I’ll have him move to the guest house."

Willow shook her head. "It's not inconvenient, Grandpa Sterling."

She really didn't want Julian to leave.

She wanted to buy the ointment and wait until his injury was healed.

After all, she was the cause of that bruise.

Julian maintained his usual indifferent and distant demeanor. "Whatever Willow prefers."

Sterling was overjoyed to see them getting along. "With you two here, this old house finally feels lively."

After breakfast, Willow went to school and specifically bought some ointment to bring back.

In the evening, after hearing that Julian had finished his shower, she took the initiative to knock on his door.

"Uncle Julian, may I come in?"

"Mm."

Julian was wearing black silk pajamas, his features as cold and aloof as ever.

He looked incredibly difficult to approach.

"Uncle Julian," Willow maintained a certain distance from him. "Take off your shirt."

Julian’s eyes darkened slightly.

In the next moment, the girl pulled a tube of ointment from her pocket. "I bought some medicine. It's hard for you to reach your back, so I'll help you apply it."

Her eyes were clear, filled with genuine concern for him.

Julian fell silent for a moment, then turned around, unbuttoned his shirt, and crouched down.

His firm shoulder blades were exposed.

Willow bit her lip when she saw the bruise, which had now turned a mix of blue and purple.

She should have noticed sooner.

It looked even worse here.

"Uncle Julian, I'm starting now."

With that, Willow carefully squeezed the ointment onto her hand and used her fingertip to rub it onto the injured area.

Occasionally, she asked him softly, "Does it hurt?"

It didn't hurt at all.

In fact, her touch was incredibly soft.

But Julian parted his thin lips and said, "A little."

Willow immediately lightened her touch even more, leaning in to blow gently on the wound. "How does that feel, Uncle Julian?"

Julian’s jaw tightened.

Her breath felt like a feather brushing against his back.

It was flirtatious and intimate.

He felt a strong urge to grab her and pin her to the bed.

Knock, knock, knock—

A sudden knock at the door startled them.

Julian snapped back to his senses. "Who is it?"

"Julian," Sterling knocked on the door. "I have something to discuss with you. Is it convenient right now?"

Willow turned pale with fright while holding the ointment, frantically looking for a place to hide.

But there was nothing in the bedroom.

The bathroom and the walk-in closet were both outside.

There was only the bed and the nightstand.

Wait, the curtains.

She hurriedly tried to pull the curtains and hide behind them.

The next moment, she was pulled back by Julian. "My father chose those curtains specifically to keep us from sleeping in; they are thin and transparent."

Willow lifted her pathetic little face. "Uncle Julian, I can't let Grandpa Sterling find me..."

A man and a woman alone in a room applying medicine—it looked far too abnormal.

She blamed her own lack of foresight; she should have asked a servant to help.

Julian looked at her face and picked her up in one swift motion.

He placed her inside the bed.