"..."
Bian Chenpei silently lowered his head, looking at the down comforter embroidered with golden thread, his fists unconsciously clenched tight, his nails digging deeply into his flesh.
He wanted to rebel, wanted to roar loudly at the so-called senior brother before him, to demand his father’s presence.
But he dared not.
Every ti he recalled the towering figure, majestic like a mountain, who emotionlessly tortured demons in the prison and demanded that he, a six-year-old, forcibly observe, all the anger and resentnt accumulated in his heart, along with any courage, evaporated completely.
"...I understand."
Bian Chenpei spoke in a hoarse voice, hardly recognizing his own. "I will do as told."
Unable to rebel, he could only accept.
Duan Buqun glanced at him, unsurprised by the response, and added, "The Cardinal also said, you lost your pride and confidence with Li Ang, and with Ghost Shovel, your dignity and bravery. The things you’ve lost, you must take back yourself."
Bian Chenpei looked up blankly. His legs were both broken now. He could only move by levitating with Telekinesis or with a wheelchair. How could he reclaim what was his?
"Li Ang has now returned to Yu Country, under the strict protection of the Academic Palace. Ghost Shovel’s fate is unknown, and Zhao Ming has also vanished, making them hard to find. Just as well, there’s still at least a year or two before the full-scale war on Yu Country. He wants you to go to the Ten Thousand Desolate Mountains to hunt demons and train."
Duan Buqun said, "Soday, the army loyal to Haotian will breach the gates of Chang’an City, and you, bathed in the light of dawn, should be among them. Then, he will place into your hands the blade to behead Li Ang and Zhao Ming. I hope you won’t disappoint his expectations."
Decapitation, blade... such bloody words should never be what a normal father advises and blesses his son with.
Yet, after hearing these words, Bian Chenpei’s eyes, which had been lost in a daze, gradually sharpened, and a luster returned to his ashen face.
He took a deep breath and murmured, "I will not let him down."
"Good."
Seeing Bian Chenpei finally rousing himself, Duan Buqun nodded slightly, raising a scroll in his hand mixed with text and lines. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going now. I still need to pass on the divine command."
"Divine command?"
Bian Chenpei was taken aback. "A prophecy issued directly by the Torch Language chanism? About what?"
"A Nanke dream, where grudges are hard to dissolve. Like foam and bubbles, all has its reason."
Duan Buqun glanced at the paper and casually recited the first two lines from it: "It’s about a Level One Demon Beast that’s about to awaken."
"Level One?"
Bian Chenpei was even more surprised. A demon beast classified as Level One was either like a Bookworm Immortal, possessing unique abilities to be preserved and utilized, or it possessed earth-shattering destructive power that needed to be contained, imprisoned, or even eradicated promptly.
"Indeed."
Duan Buqun continued, "The Torch Language chanism has prophesied that this demon beast is of paramount importance to Taihao Mountain, so it must be found and captured imdiately. If it’s not possible to capture, it must be destroyed at once to prevent anyone else from getting it, even the Zhou Kingdom or Jing Country."
So decisive?
Bian Chenpei hesitated. "Does this demon beast have a na?"
"It does."
Duan Buqun nodded. "Its na is Dream Eater."
At this mont, Li Ang was still unaware that on the distant Taihao Mountain, a pair of "loving" father and son were plotting how to break into Chang’an City and behead him.
Of course, even if he knew, he probably wouldn’t take it to heart.
He had already offended Zhao Ming to death. More than a dozen wanted Candle Cloud Realm Cultivators were after him, so why worry about Bian Chenpei?
He lived his life, enjoying the rare peace—attending classes at the Academic Palace by day and having dinner and reading with Chai Chai at ho at night. When it got late, he would communicate long-distance with Galuo and Lu Yunan using Mo Si.
Galuo was sowhat resentful about this. Li Ang had such an efficient communication tool at his disposal but kept it hidden, making her write many letters in vain while enduring the delay in communication.
Li Ang could only apologize and promise that he would cook a sumptuous al for her the next ti they t.
As for him and Lu Yunan, they had even more to talk about, chatting until midnight with topics ranging from when ceramic flush toilets would be universally available to when the world might see its own Magellan who could circumnavigate the globe.
From discussing who better represented the youth of the new era—a viral pretty-boy influencer or a young tech guru—to whether the pinnacle of superhero movies was Watchn or Batman.
When it ca ti to sleep, the two of them, overtired from staying up late, would sotis say silly things: "You hang up first."
"No, you hang up first."
"No way, you hang up first."
"Let’s hang up together. Three, two, one..."
"..."
"Hello? Anyone there? You brat, I told you to hang up, and you really did?"
"Didn’t you say hang up together?"
It was just like chatting on an instant ssenger in his previous life.
This occasionally made Li Leqing, who ca to Li Ang’s house for als, inexplicably feel a strange chill.
However, Li Ang and Lu Yunan weren’t always just chatting. The threat from Zhao Ming was like a black cloud slowly descending from the sky, extrely oppressive. Moreover, there was the Mo Si that could go out of control again at any ti, and the impending war.
In the Northern Snowfield, Lu Yunan led his people in digging up sothing the Zhao Ming Organization had ordered them to find, while secretly trying to ta the Taotie Fragnt he had seized from Ghost Shovel.
Li Ang also did his best to familiarize himself with the Dragon Fall Spear. Both were preparing for the future.
After really cutting off the Mo Si communication, he returned to his bedroom, lay down on his bed, but tossed and turned, finding it difficult to fall asleep.
He still rembered the Mountain Master’s words: Cultivators with a sensitive Spiritual Sense and exceptional talents often saw Illusions. They would then take these Illusions as having so practical significance, so form of revelation.
Throughout history, many Cultivators, because of these so-called "revelations," got more and more trapped and inevitably stepped onto the Demon Path.
Countless Mo Si resided within his body. If one considered Mo Si as Spirit Veins, then he definitely qualified as one of those so-called geniuses with "sensitive Spiritual Sense and exceptional talent." And he was even more prone to being troubled by Illusions.
Maybe the Sword Immortals in history went mad because of this...
Li Ang anxiously pondered for a mont, glanced at Chai Chai, who was sleeping soundly on the nearby bed, then extended Mo Si from his fingertips to form a bell tied to a rope, and hung it by his bedside.
The other end of the rope was connected to his finger.
This way, if he encountered a nightmare in his sleep and moved his body erratically, it would pull the rope and ring the bell, waking him up.
With his preparations complete, Li Ang finally relaxed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
...
...
THUMP!
A strong vibration spread through his body, and Li Ang abruptly opened his eyes, only to see not the familiar ceiling of his bedroom but a dark blue sky.
He climbed up from the ground in confusion and looked around.
This was a small courtyard, with a row of flower pots placed along the wall. The plants inside had all withered due to a lack of care for too long.
The grapevines clinging to the bamboo roof above the flower pots were also long since dried up.
The scene before him was all too familiar. This was the backyard of the Security Hall in Yizhou. Li Ang’s ho.
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