Chapter Forty: The Realm of Dreams

“Have you all forgotten my specialty?” Old Dog said with a sly grin.

“You mean you can sense where those dreams infused with spiritual power are?” Wu Ming eyed Old Dog skeptically.

“Hmph, do you even know who I am? It’s my profession, perfectly suited for this!”

“Then let’s set out quickly. The sooner we find the spiritual power, the sooner we can revive Vajra!” Wu Ming, eager and impatient, was quickly pulled back by Ling Mei.

“It’s daytime right now. Are you planning to daydream?”

“Oh right, it’s still daytime.” Wu Ming felt his IQ had been plummeting lately, nearly matching Director Tyrannosaurus.

“With just a few of you, you think you can venture into the world of dreams? It’s not that I underestimate you, but a person’s dream is guided by their own mind. Most people are muddled and powerless in their dreams, but don’t forget those who can control their dreams. In their own domain, crushing you would be no harder than squashing an ant.” The one who entered now was the modern Bian Que, the prematurely aged father of Little Fatty.

“Good day, Master Bian Que!” Everyone stood up to bow, for he had helped Director Tyrannosaurus regain his arm, and all felt kindly toward him.

“No need for courtesy!” Bian Que casually found a stool and sat, motioning for everyone to sit as well.

He took the insulated cup handed to him by a maid, drank a sip, and looked around at the group.

“Ah, how tragic it is. Once my Daoist sect was so glorious, and now there’s barely a handful left!”

“You’re saying you want to enter the dream world? I once entered a demon’s dream world with the leader of the Yiqi Daoist Sect.” Bian Que fell into reminiscence.

“Back then, I and Daoist Qingfeng, the leader of Yiqi Daoist Sect, pursued a demon who had crossed boundaries and captured him alive. To seal the breach between the Spirit Realm and the Human Realm that he exploited, we even used the soul-searching technique, but found nothing—no clue to the loophole he used. Then Qingfeng and I thought of searching his dreams. That was truly a near-death experience. The demon’s spiritual strength was extraordinarily powerful, in his dreams he was like a god. At the time, each of us had cultivation far exceeding the sum of all your abilities combined, yet in his dream, we couldn’t withstand even a single move. The pressure was overwhelming, as if facing the Five Heavenly Emperors directly, utterly impossible to resist. Luckily, Sister Nüba realized the danger early and rescued us, or else the consequences would have been unimaginable!” Bian Que still seemed shaken by the memory.

“So not every person’s dream world is so formidable, right?” Wu Ming clung to a thread of hope.

“That’s true, but encountering one could cost you your life!”

“Then what if we try to avoid the powerful ones?”

“Well, that might work! But how will you distinguish them?” Bian Que seemed intrigued.

“I haven’t figured that out yet. What are the typical traits of people with strong spiritual power?” Wu Ming pondered aloud.

“Western spirit magicians are renowned for their formidable mental strength because they spend their whole lives training it!” Xiao Mei, familiar with mage types, chimed in.

“Most people don’t have much spiritual power, right?” Director Tyrannosaurus kept flexing his newly restored hand, getting used to it.

“That’s not necessarily true. Many people who frequent forums practice lucid dreaming, and those skilled ones are gods in their own worlds!” Wu Ming, a regular on forums himself, had an interest in lucid dreaming and knew a bit about it.

“And those who like to hide away and daydream shouldn’t be underestimated either. Think about it: a person able to create an entire world or imagine a new reality has immense spiritual strength. But the most terrifying are the novelists...” Wu Ming was getting enthusiastic, but Bian Que smacked him on the back of the head.

“Enough already! Can you say something useful?”

“Hehe, please go ahead, Master.” Wu Ming gestured politely.

“I do have an idea. Or you could just run away when you encounter strong ones!” Bian Que sighed.

“That’s no better than what I said!” Bian Que raised his hand to strike again, and Wu Ming quickly shut up and moved away.

“We could make some talismans to help us escape from the dream world in case of danger!”

“Great idea!” Wu Ming clapped happily, then hurried away from Bian Que. Everyone was amused.

“Wu Ming, are you the comic relief sent by the Monkey King?” Yin Yue giggled and hugged Wu Ming’s arm.

“Hehe,” Wu Ming scratched his head awkwardly.

“Master Bian Que, how long would it take to make such talismans?” Ling Mei asked.

“I have some ready-made ones. They were originally for reviving fainting patients, but I think they’ll work well for you in the dream world!” Bian Que pulled out several stacks of slip-like talismans from his medical pouch, each about two centimeters wide and five centimeters long.

“Wow, high-tech! Old man, are you sure they work?” Wu Ming eagerly took them and examined them, handing out a small stack to each person.

Bian Que’s anger rose again and he raised his hand to hit Wu Ming. He had never wanted to strike someone this much in his life. This guy was completely at odds with him; if they spent much time together, he’d surely be driven mad. He wondered how his son could tolerate such a companion.

“Wu Ming, stop teasing my father! He’s got a temper!” Little Fatty couldn’t bear to watch his friend and his father bicker.

“Oh, Little Fatty, now that you mention it, I almost forgot—look at you, so plump, and your father’s just a skinny old man. Are you sure you’re not Old Wang’s kid from next door?” Wu Ming tossed off the remark and dashed out the door.

The old man grabbed his cane and chased after him. Despite his aged appearance, his movements were swift and nimble. As he chased, he yelled, “You little rascal, stop right there! I’ll beat you to death!”

“Senile old man, if I stop, I’d just be handing myself over!” Wu Ming called back, making faces as he ran.

Yin Yue rushed out to watch the spectacle.

“That kid!” Director Tyrannosaurus laughed.

“Amitabha, Master Wu Ming truly is noble, sacrificing himself just to ease the tension!”

“That’s nothing! The truly noble one is Master Bian Que—he’s been cuckolded for our amusement!” Wu Ming poked his head through a window, said his piece, and quickly darted away.

“You brat, stop right there! See if I don’t beat you to death!”

“If I don’t run, I’d be an idiot…”

Their shouts and laughter grew fainter as they chased each other into the distance.