Seeing Dreams

“Senior Li? Senior Li?”

Bai Lingmiao called softly. Before her, Li Huowang sat with his chopsticks frozen mid-air, his gaze fixed on the bowl of cold noodle soup for quite some time.

“Senior Li, what’s wrong?” It was only when Bai Lingmiao’s hand touched the back of his that Li Huowang snapped awake.

“Nothing. Just thinking about that dream from last night.” He handed her the bowl and chopsticks.

“The bad one? It’s fine. My mother always said dreams are opposites,” Bai Lingmiao said, taking the utensils toward the river.

“Opposites?” Li Huowang stared silently at Zhuge Yuan in the distance.

When Bai Lingmiao came back with the washed bowls, Li Huowang shook his head with force and stood up. “Forget it. It’s just a dream. Maybe it was on my mind before sleep.”

Just as he was about to move on, he noticed someone was missing. “Miaomiao, where’s Li Sui?”

“Playing in the water about ten zhang ahead.”

Li Huowang shook his head with resignation. “Just like a little kid.” He walked along the river to find her.

When he spotted Li Sui’s wide straw cape, she wasn’t playing. She was crouched by the water like a dog, guarding several leaping carp.

“You caught fish—why just stare instead of eating?” he asked, walking up to her.

“I already ate mine. This is Second Mother’s share. I’m waiting for her.”

At her words, the hand Li Huowang had been raising to pat her head slowly lowered.

His expression was complicated as he looked at Li Sui. Did she still not realize that the Second Spirit was gone?

Suddenly, there was rustling from the bushes to the left. Li Sui jerked upright, her thin body alert. But when a gray hare burst out from the undergrowth, she slumped back down, her head resting on her crossed forearms with a dejected air.

“Li Sui, don’t wait. Second Mother is gone. She’s never coming back.”

For the first time, Li Sui didn’t believe him. “She will come back. She told me so.”

“Li Sui!”

His sharp tone made the sorrow on her face visible. “Why can’t I wait for her? She clearly said she’d be back.”

Li Huowang let out a long sigh. He reached down and pulled her into his arms, gently stroking the writhing tentacles on her back, one after another. “It’s all over. We have to look forward.”

Even as he said that, he heard a familiar chewing sound behind him.

“Second Mother!” Li Sui broke free from his embrace and charged forward with excitement. “I knew you’d come back!”

When Li Huowang turned around, he was stunned. The Second Spirit, still wearing her red bridal veil, was picking up the leaping carp one by one and stuffing them beneath the veil.

“This… this can’t be! It’s impossible!” He rushed over and grabbed the veil, yanking it up.

“Haah!” The sight beneath it sent him jolting awake in terror. Drenched in cold sweat, he sat upright in the carriage, gasping for air.

Bai Lingmiao took out a white handkerchief and gently dabbed the dense sweat from his forehead. “Senior Li, you’ve been having bad dreams for days now.”

Li Huowang didn’t answer right away. First, he looked at her as if she were a stranger, then took in the surroundings with the same unfamiliar gaze.

Without a word, he drew a dagger from his sash and stabbed it deep into his left forearm.

The piercing pain made him exhale with a trembling sigh. That was a dream. This—this is real.

“Ah! Senior Li, what are you doing!” Bai Lingmiao scrambled to her knees, frantically searching for needle and thread to stitch the wound.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I just need to… be more awake.” Still gripping the dagger, Li Huowang slowly twisted it.

“Senior Li, maybe you don’t have to train day and night like this. It doesn’t have to be rushed.”

“No! I only have two years. I have to race against time. And I don’t think this is related to my cultivation—I feel there’s something wrong with these dreams!”

His expression turned grim. “Could it be Dice? I never see outsiders. With no crack in reality to exploit, maybe he’s trying to fool me through my dreams.”

It was mere speculation, but Li Huowang had to guard against it. Against Dice, no amount of caution was enough.

“Miaomiao, Li Sui—have either of you had any dreams these past few days?”

“No, Senior Li.”

“Dad, what is dreaming?”

The answers let him breathe a little easier. At least this was happening only to him—it hadn’t spread to them.

Li Huowang pulled back the curtain and shouted into the misty, rain-soaked forest outside. “Dice! Enough games! I can’t help you with this! Find someone else!”

His cry pierced the woods, but aside from startling a few birds, there was no response.

He let the curtain fall with a cold expression. Turning to Bai Lingmiao, who was still wiping his blood, he said, “We’re stopping. Find a place to settle down. We’ll wait a year or two before heading back. Let’s see who outlasts whom.”

The carriage stopped its aimless wandering and turned toward the distant green mountains.

Once they reached the foothills, Li Huowang found a solid cliff face and drew his spine-sword.

The hard rock of Great Liang, cut into clean blocks, was sent across to Great Qi. Before long, a neat cave dwelling stood before him.

When the carriage was pulled in to block the entrance like a door, the cave fell into silence.

A campfire was lit. Its orange-red glow flickered against the stone walls, filling the space with a surprising warmth.

After a dinner of toasted, crispy flatbread, it was time for Li Huowang’s cultivation session again.

He wasn’t afraid that Dice would try something while he was cultivating. A Heart-Element mid-cultivation was dangerous—even to himself.

Li Huowang sat at the entrance like a door god, legs crossed and eyes shut. With a deep breath, he used the so-called “divine light” from his eyes to drag the Innate Pneuma within him toward the second wheel of the seven—the navel chakra.

Slowly, he entered a state of self-forgetfulness. He forgot the rain. He forgot Dice. He forgot everything. In his mind, only two approaching masses remained.

One was the ineffable, cocooned Innate Pneuma. The other was the empty, yawning cavity of his navel chakra.

He kept on, detached from the passage of time. Then, suddenly, the Innate Pneuma seemed to be drawn by something—its movement grew faster and faster.

When it slammed heavily into the navel chakra, it raced past, then settled into a steady, slow orbit around the cavity.

A faint yellow light began to seep from the Innate Pneuma into the chakra. Six lotus petals of the same color began to flicker in and out of existence around it.