At the end of the main hall, a row of downward stone steps was set up.
The stone steps were carved with exquisite reliefs, making it difficult for people to step on them. At the end stood a pair of scarlet red doors with the words “Palace of Leisure*” on the plaque. The strokes of the characters were soft, adding a touch of tenderness.
*A mythological place in Chinese mythology that symbolizes utopia, where one can live a harmonious and carefree life, detached from worldly affairs and immersed in spiritual pursuit. It’s often portrayed as a realm for immortals and enlightenment.
Matron Wuxue sniffed at the door and gently tapped it with her cane, and the large doors slowly opened.
“There are no traps on the door, but as for what’s inside…”
She didn’t finish her sentence and was the first to step inside.
The group, which was originally less than a hundred people, now had only about forty left. The Taiheng Sect had the fewest losses, while the lone wanderers had been completely wiped out. After entering the door, everyone stopped in their tracks at the same time—
The scene in front of them was really strange.
They seemed to have entered a large mansion, with swaying tree shadows and gentle starlight visible outside the windows. The interior of the house was dimly lit, with a pleasant aroma of incense. There was not a speck of dust in sight, and the air carried a pleasant warmth.
Half-eaten snacks and tea were arranged on the table. The snacks were fresh and crispy, and the tea was still steaming. The fruits on the fruit plate were covered in water droplets, and the green plants beside them were lush, with some even blooming in vibrant colors.
The atmosphere of life in this place was extremely strong, as if the owner of the mansion had just left and would return soon.
If it was said that Yan Budu was still living here, Yin Ci could almost believe it for a moment.
For a brief moment, Yin Ci even harbored a faint hope—perhaps Yan Budu, like him, was unable to die and had chosen to live in seclusion in a tomb?
However, this thought only lasted temporarily.
Yin Ci had been in too many tombs, and he knew better than anyone. No matter how powerful the arts were, they couldn’t create something out of thin air, and a tomb couldn’t provide fresh water.
It was just an illusion.
Before Shi Jingzhi could tremble, Yin Ci reached out and grabbed his hand. The candlelight flickered, and for a while, no one dared to move, afraid of disturbing something.
“Shizun, should we look for Yan Qing? Senior Shi said he’s not in the main hall, so he should be here,” Yin Ci whispered, diverting Shi Jingzhi’s attention.
“Mm, let’s look for him.” Shi Jingzhi’s voice was dry.
At the same time, possibly due to being too nervous, a disciple from the Yueshui Pavilion dropped his pen. The pen fell on the thick and soft carpet, and after hesitating for a while, he decided to reach out and pick it up.
Shen Zhu let out a light sigh and brushed off the dust on her clothes. “Idiot.”
The room became very quiet, and the person clearly heard this remark. He straightened up and grumbled discontentedly, “Making a fuss over nothing. It’s not like I haven’t been in a tomb before. I was careful enough just now and definitely didn’t trigger anything…”
He hadn’t finished speaking when a series of gasps sounded from inside the room.
The man’s face changed.
He didn’t transform into another person—his facial features slowly slid across his face like a paper painting floating on water. One eye slid down to the position of his mouth, while his mouth slowly slid towards his left ear. His eyes, nose, and mouth were all in the wrong places, yet the man seemed completely unaware, blinking his misplaced eyes.
As if realizing the horror in everyone’s eyes, he reached out a hand and touched his own face. As soon as he touched it, his fingers stuck to his face, melding with his cheek.
The mouth that had slid to the side of his face finally opened, letting out a scream of terror.
“Save me!” He stumbled toward the crowd. “Save—”
For some reason, with each step he took, his body shrunk a little. After a few steps, his entire being had twisted to the point of being unrecognizable, unable to move even a bit.
He no longer made any sounds. It was unknown whether his throat had changed shape, or he had died in the contorted state. The brightly colored fabric clung to his flesh, appearing particularly glaring. His body seemed like a colorful wax figure slowly melting into the ground while his clothes seeped into the earth, gradually disappearing.
Shi Jingzhi: “…”
Shi Jingzhi: “A’Ci, be careful. Don’t move recklessly.”
Yin Ci sighed. “I know… Shizun, you should get off me first.”
Shi Jingzhi’s fear overwhelmed his status as a master—he clung to Yin Ci like a monkey clinging to a tree, not daring to let go.
Yin Ci even somewhat missed Shi Jingzhi’s madness. Even if he distributed one-tenth of that madness to his normal self, it wouldn’t be so… clingy.
Patiently, he slowly peeled Shi Jingzhi off bit by bit. “Yan Qing has made calculations, divining the journey of the Taiheng Sect as auspicious, which is fortunate for us. Let’s stick close to them.”
No one laughed at Shi Jingzhi, including Matron Wuxue. The expressions on everyone’s faces weren’t good. Shi Zhongyu pushed up her sleeve, revealing a string of blood essence beads that were still white. Monk Juehui struck the iron bowl a few times, but the environment in front of them didn’t change at all.
There were no monsters here, nor were there any ordinary illusions.
The aroma of dim sum mixed with incense created a delicate sweetness that lingered. The air was warm and flowed gently. This should have been a soothing environment.
From this position, everyone could see the entrance to the study not far away, filled with books. On the weapon rack, knives and swords shimmered with a cold light, and it was obvious that they weren’t ordinary.
Yin Ci clicked his tongue inwardly—he recognized this situation, but at the moment, perhaps it was only he who could recognize what it was.
This technique was called “Dream Bubble*” and was known as the most dangerous incense illusion. It used the human brain as the main ingredient, along with thousands of materials from monsters, to create the fragrance. If the incense burner was chosen correctly, the fragrance could last for hundreds of years.
*Based off of the idiom (梦幻泡影) that refers to thinking everything in the world is as empty as dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows. Metaphorically, it means it’s an easily shattered fantasy (aka a pipe dream).
The effect of “Dream Bubble” was twofold.
First, it allowed people to produce dreams while remaining awake and blend those dreams with reality. Second, if one touched an object within the dream, they would be directly affected by the dream.
The man just now didn’t die from a mechanism; he died from everyone’s nightmares.
Arriving in such an eerie place, people inevitably felt some fear—fear gave rise to imagination, and imagination merged with dreams. The disciple from Yueshui Pavilion became the scapegoat, drawing everyone’s attention and coincidentally touching an object within the dream, becoming the “distorted” object.
As a result, the various fears and speculations of the people mixed together, materializing on the man’s body, erasing him from existence.
After the “Dream Bubble” technique had taken effect, everyone became unconscious practitioners of the technique.
The solution was simple: Destroy the incense burner without touching any objects within the dream.
Unfortunately, amidst the various things in the room, it was difficult to distinguish which ones existed solely within the dream. The most troublesome part was that Yin Ci didn’t want to expose himself; he needed an outsider—anyone—to discover the solution.
“Could it be a problem with that carpet?” Yin Ci deliberately raised his voice. “Shizun, I felt something was off just now. The carpet has no patterns at all. It’s all black, which is completely out of place in this mansion.”
Shi Jingzhi asked, puzzled, “A’Ci, what are you saying? Isn’t there a golden dragon and phoenix pattern on the carpet?”
Shi Zhongyu furrowed her brows upon hearing this. “I saw a red carpet with patterns from the Western Regions. Jin Lan?”
Jin Lan stammered. “I-I saw a regular blue carpet with a pattern of longevity flowers…”
Monk Juehui pondered for a moment. “What kind of dim sum do you see on the table?”
“Mung bean cake.” “Lotus blossom cake.” “Pea pudding.” “…”
Everyone answered one after another, and then they exchanged glances.
As everyone’s attention focused, both the carpet and the dim sum distorted, taking on bizarre appearances, and eventually twisted away. Only a piece of decaying carpet remnant and a plate of dark residue remained.
“I see now.” Monk Juehui sighed. “I see now.”
Yin Ci wasn’t surprised at all.
That was how objects in dreams were—the power of “Dream Bubble” had its limits, and most of the details were filled in by individuals’ subconscious. However, if everyone concentrated their attention on one thing, it would be shattered by conflicting imaginations, just like what happened to the man earlier.
However, this alone couldn’t break through the “Dream Bubble”, because dreams were never just one layer.
“Shizun, the dim sum disappeared completely just now. It must have been an illusion, right?”
Shi Jingzhi furrowed his brows, seemingly realizing something. “I saw rotten dim sum remnants. Wait, A’Ci, let me think…”
He took a few deep breaths and turned to Monk Juehui. “Master, I’ve read about it in books before. The Xiele Buddhist Sect seems to have a similar technique called… what was it?”
“You are knowledgeable, Young Patron. Yes, the Xiele Buddhist Sect does indeed possess a similar technique. That technique has long been lost, with only incomplete records remaining.”
Monk Juehui closed his eyes. “This technique is born from the burning of incense. All illusions are ominous, and if one touches them casually, they are easily affected by the dreams of all living beings.”
Shi Jingzhi gritted his teeth. “A’Ci, hold my hand.”
“No problem. Shizun, why did you suddenly mention this?”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t answer immediately. He took out the stuffed silver bell, cleared away the bits of paper, and swung the bell. The clear sound of the bell resonated through the room, creating ripples in the air.
“This technique affects the consciousness, deceiving the eyes but not the ears.”
Shi Jingzhi closed his eyes tightly.
“The sound of the bell expands and rebounds when it encounters an object. I can perceive the obstacles. Dream objects have no substance and can be penetrated by sound. If I don’t look at the dream and don’t acknowledge its existence, I shouldn’t be affected by consciousness-based techniques. Monk Juehui said this thing relies on incense to take effect, so we need to find the place with the strongest fragrance and destroy the incense burner.”
His voice was confident and loud, audible to everyone present.
…This kid is truly cunning.
Yin Ci’s lips curled up.
Shi Jingzhi was just spouting nonsense, performing a visual version of covering one’s ears while stealing a bell*. He had no idea whether the “Dream Bubble” would consider him as having “not touched” it.
*(掩耳盗铃) Idiom referring to someone who attempts to deceive others but ends up fooling only themselves. It comes from a story in ancient China where a man wanted to steal a valuable bell but feared that the sound of the bell would alert others. To prevent this, he covered his own ears while stealing the bell, thinking that if he couldn’t hear the sound, no one else would. || In this context, Shi Jingzhi is literally performing that (with a bell even!) but instead of covering his ears, he’s covering his eyes.
Naturally, it would be good if he considered it “not touched”. Even if he was considered as “touched”, he had managed to instill a subconscious sense of reassurance in everyone—they firmly believed that nothing would happen to him and he wouldn’t be affected by everyone’s nightmares, meeting the same gruesome fate as the man earlier.
The various illusions from before weren’t his own hallucinations; Shi Jingzhi indeed had a touch of madness deep down.
Matron Wuxue said with a serious tone, “Kid, do you really think you can do such a thing?”
Shi Jingzhi, wearing the mask, shook the silver bell in his hand, making it ring. “A trivial skill. I was born with heightened senses.”
His voice was steady, but his palms were covered in sweat. Yin Ci held his hand tightly, signaling him to relax.
“A’Ci, follow behind me, and be careful not to touch anything recklessly.”
“Yes.”
No one dared to search for treasure. The group followed Shi Jingzhi’s footsteps, walking cautiously, imitating his every move.
The mansion was large, and the group walked quietly for over an hour before Shi Jingzhi stopped—more precisely, he nearly tripped.
Yan Qing lay at the end of the corridor with his body stretched straight and arms tightly against his sides. The luggage of the Kushan Sect was neatly stacked next to him, with a sealed farewell letter placed on top.
His chest rose and fell calmly as he slept.
Yin Ci: “…Brother Yan, wake up.”
Shi Jingzhi immediately improvised. “Everyone, this is my new servant, recently recruited by our sect. He has been missing for a while. He’s visually impaired, perhaps naturally capable of breaking this technique, which is why he was left alone here.”
Amidst the commotion, Yan Qing slowly woke up, still groggy. “Hmm?”
Yin Ci whispered, “You didn’t touch anything at all?”
Yan Qing, with a bewildered expression, took a while before showing a hint of joy for having survived the ordeal. “This place is extremely dangerous, and I was well aware. Instead of triggering any mechanisms, it’s better to wait here for death… cough—wait for the two of you to rescue me.”
Yin Ci: “……” Well, no need to be that realistic.
Shi Jingzhi cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Have you found any clues?”
Yan Qing’s expression turned serious. He took a deep breath and pointed to a nearby bedroom.
“…There’s the sound of someone’s breathing inside.”
The author has something to say:
Also, although the name “Dream Bubble” may sound a bit like a magical girl technique (…), its origin is actually from Buddhism, specifically the phrase “All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, or shadows,” which is a Buddhist concept.
The literal translation is just too dreamlike, so I had to explain it (…
RECENTLY UPDATES
