Tian Fangfang remained motionless.
Men Dong pushed and prodded him for a while without any response. Finally, mustering up his courage, he slapped Tian Fangfang’s face and yelled, “Senior Brother Tian!”
Tian Fangfang continued to sleep soundly.
Men Dong grabbed his hair and tried to pull him up, as if pulling a large radish stuck in the ground. “Tian—Senior Brother—”
Senior Brother Tian didn’t respond at all, his mouth even curved into a slight smile, his face full of bliss, as if lost in a deep dream.
Men Dong plopped down on the ground, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over him. His cultivation was mediocre to begin with, and now he had lost all his energy and couldn’t even open his Qiankun Bag. Without waking Tian Fangfang, how could he find the others alone?
Sitting on the ground, Men Dong wiped the corners of his eyes in dejection. After all that struggling, he had managed to drag Tian Fangfang from the secret chamber to the outside. The leg that had been sticking out had its shoe pulled off, revealing a sock with a hole in it.
In the sect on Gufeng Mountain, clothing was distributed uniformly, and socks were made from special white silk. But Tian Fangfang’s socks were red, undoubtedly because he had sold the issued socks and replaced them with cheaper ones. Now that the sock had a hole, one of his toes was sticking out. As Men Dong stared at it, a sudden idea struck him.
What if he tried a different approach?
…
The dishes on the table were all his favorites, ones he rarely got to eat.
Eight Treasures Wild Duck, Buddha’s Hand Rolls, Stir-Fried Squid Shreds, Golden Crispy Cakes, Creamy Fish Fillets, Colorful Beef Strips… Tian Fangfang ate ravenously, and when he got too rushed, he grabbed the Huadiao wine jar beside him and took a swig.
After the Qian family fell, the servants scattered. He didn’t want money or antiques; instead, he took a piece of land at the east end of the village. He planned to plant sweet potatoes there, something to stave off hunger when he had nothing else to eat. But on the first day of clearing the land, his hoe struck a box of gold nuggets.
He used those gold nuggets to buy more land and build a beautiful mansion, bringing his parents to live with him.
With money, he could eat his fill every day and no longer had to endure beatings and scoldings as before. Tian Fangfang felt that everything around him had improved. But there was one downside: his memory had deteriorated. For instance, he couldn’t quite remember how he became wealthy and owned this mansion until one of the maidservants reminded him. Only then did he vaguely recall that it might have happened that way.
Well, as people age, it’s common for their memory to fade. When he was a laborer at the Qian mansion, he had only hoped to one day have enough steamed buns to eat, meat in every meal, and a soft bed to sleep on. He never imagined that all his dreams would come true. The good fortune came so suddenly, it felt like a dream.
He picked up a piece of the snowy white fish and put it in his mouth. The fish was sweet and delicate, and Tian Fangfang savored it contentedly. Suddenly, he felt something tickling at his feet. Looking down, he almost jumped out of his skin.
A gray mouse was at his feet, its paws climbing up his pant leg. His shoes were gone, and his bare feet were on the ground, feeling the mouse’s prickly movements across his instep.
“Mother, why is there a mouse here?” Tian Fangfang shouted in terror.
When he was young, his family was so poor they didn’t even have a proper bed, just a low platform made of piled-up dirt. Because there was never enough food, even the mice went crazy with hunger. Sometimes, they would crawl onto the bed and bite people in the middle of the night. When Tian Fangfang was eight, a newborn baby in the neighboring house had its nose gnawed off by mice one night. He still vividly remembered that bloody scene. In Tian Fangfang’s mind, nothing was more terrifying than mice.
And now, even in his exquisitely luxurious mansion, there were mice?
“Someone—someone—” he shouted.
But the mice kept coming, more and more of them, seemingly from nowhere, a gray tide surging from all directions. The furry creatures brushed against his feet, and he climbed onto a chair, but the mice climbed up with him. He got onto the table, and the mice pursued relentlessly, the prickly sensation spreading over his body, an unbearable itch forcing him to scream, “Get away!” as he reached for the axe at his waist.
His hand grasped at nothing.
Where was his axe? Where was his Qianyang Axe?
But what was the Qianyang Axe?
Tian Fangfang felt his mind suddenly become confused, his memory seeming to falter. The gray, noisy tide halted before him, the mansion gradually becoming blurry. A clear voice rang in his ears, accompanied by the tickling sensation at his feet, “Senior Brother Tian! Senior Brother—Tian—”
Tian Fangfang abruptly opened his eyes.
In front of him, a small boy was hugging his foot tightly, his little face flushed red. Tian Fangfang was stunned for a moment before he suddenly realized what was happening and snatched his foot back, looking at Men Dong with a particularly complex expression. “Junior Brother, I didn’t expect you to have such a hobby.”
Men Dong, caught off guard, was kicked by Tian Fangfang. After a while, he got up from the ground, his face livid with anger. “Who has such a hobby? If it weren’t for the fact that you were stuck in the illusion and couldn’t wake up, who would want to take off your socks?” He pinched his nose. “It stinks!”
At that time, Tian Fangfang showed no signs of waking up, so Men Dong decided to take off Tian Fangfang’s socks and tickle his soles, thinking it might work. Unexpectedly, this method was very effective, and Tian Fangfang woke up.
“An illusion?” Tian Fangfang was momentarily stunned. While putting on his socks, he said, “That was an illusion just now?”
“What did you dream about?” Men Dong leaned in and asked.
Tian Fangfang remained silent. In that illusion, he had everything he desired. If Men Dong hadn’t woken him up, who knows how long he would have remained immersed in it.
“But, Junior Brother,” he said, putting on his shoes, “how did you wake up?”
Men Dong hesitated. “I have the Celestial Spirit Aperture, maybe that’s why.”
Because of the Celestial Spirit Aperture, his sense of smell and taste were different from others. Although the illusion tried to mimic the aroma of the brown sugar cake from his memory, the moment he took a bite, he could taste the earthy, gritty flavor. When he noticed the anomaly, the illusion began to reveal its flaws, such as the stuffed tiger, and he could then follow these clues to find the truth.
Tian Fangfang, having put on his shoes, stomped on the ground a few times and then spat several times, suspiciously saying, “Why does my mouth taste like sand?”
“Did you eat something in there?” Men Dong asked.
“Yes!”
“Food in an illusion is often made of sand and dirt.” Men Dong’s face tightened. “Forget it. Let’s go find Senior Sister Meng and the others.”
The corridor was long, but Tian Fangfang and Men Dong hadn’t walked far before they saw Mu Cengxiao.
He was half-sitting against the wall, head lowered, holding the God Slaying Sword. At first glance, it seemed like he was still awake. Tian Fangfang went up and patted his shoulder. “Junior Brother—”
Mu Cengxiao’s eyes were closed, and he didn’t respond.
“It looks like he’s also trapped in an illusion.” Men Dong frowned for a while, then squatted down and lifted one of Mu Cengxiao’s legs, calling to Tian Fangfang, “Come on, you help too.”
Tian Fangfang squatted down as well and said to Men Dong, “Let me do it. You just stand aside.”
*
The autumn sky seemed golden.
Leaves covered the ground, and in the distance, flocks of geese cast grey shadows across the clouds, disappearing into the distance.
Mu Cengxiao lowered his head to look at the sword in his hand.
This sword was given to him by the Lord of Yuecheng to congratulate him on forming his Core. Now, he was the first genius in all of Yuecheng to form his Core before the age of eighteen. Everyone respected and feared him. He and Liu Yunxin no longer needed to live by the rules of others. Even Wang Shao, the young Lord of Yuecheng, treated him with respect.
Liu Yunxin sat on a green stone in the woods, embroidering a fan in her hand. Clearly, the weather was getting cooler, but she insisted on embroidering a fan. Mu Cengxiao’s gaze swept over her face and then returned to the long sword in his hand.
The sword was very beautiful, with a blood-red gem set in the scabbard, and most importantly, it was a mid-grade spiritual weapon. Such a magnificent and imposing weapon was something he never dared to dream of in the past. He should have been proud to possess this sword, yet for some reason, every time he looked at it, he felt a strange feeling in his heart, as if… as if this wasn’t his sword.
He shook his head to dispel the odd feeling and focused on practicing with the sword. However, as soon as he made a move, he heard a deafening roar from all around.
Liu Yunxin looked anxiously at him, rushing towards him without hesitation. He shouted, “Yunxin!” intending to rush to her aid. However, just as he and Liu Yunxin were about to meet, the ground suddenly cracked open, and water gushed out from the fissure. A large, black creature burst out from the opening, wrapping around his legs.
His heart sank. “It’s a Yu!”
“Yunxin, run! Don’t let its sand hit you!” Mu Cengxiao shouted to Liu Yunxin.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly paused. Why did those words sound so familiar? The scene before him seemed like something he had seen before.
The black, vaguely masked monster seemed unwilling to let him go, tightly coiling around his legs and dragging him towards the fissure in the ground.
He struggled desperately, lifting his head only to find that Liu Yunxin was nowhere to be seen. The half-embroidered fan lay abandoned on the ground, the embroidery rough and crude.
Liu Yunxin wouldn’t leave him behind and flee alone. Liu Yunxin wouldn’t embroider such a hideous fan.
Like a beautiful ink painting washed away by raindrops, the delicate patterns gradually blurred and became chaotic, no longer recognizable in their original form. The geese had disappeared, the light had vanished, and the golden sky turned disordered. He saw dim fires flickering in front of him, and voices echoed in his ears, urgent and repeated.
“Junior Brother! Mu Junior Brother!”
“Brother… Mu…”
The voices grew louder, cutting through countless false noises, ringing clear in his ears. A chill rose from under his feet, as if someone was manipulating his body, stirring him awake.
Mu Cengxiao suddenly opened his eyes.