Chapter Fourteen: A Father's Love

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Wu Que lay slumped in the chair, his mind drifting, and took another drag from his cigarette. Hong Lei watched his apprentice’s despondent state and felt a pang of sympathy. Carefully, he spoke, “Try looking at it from another angle. You possess the innate Mad Saint Body—something no one else has, no matter how much they want it.”

“When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility upon a man, it always first tests his heart and mind...”

“It’s alright, Que, your senior brother is just as mad as you. I’ll introduce him to you later.”

Wu Que looked at Hong Lei’s flustered attempts to console him. He wanted to reassure him but couldn’t bring himself to say, “I’m fine.” He sighed softly and said slowly, “Master, there’s no need to comfort me. I remember everything you said. I’m not that fragile.”

“Just let me sleep for a while. After I rest, I’ll be fine.”

With that, he curled up quietly in the chair. Whether it was the high frequency of his madness or the dizziness from overeating earlier, soon his breathing became steady and even.

Wu Que dreamed he was celebrating his birthday. Returning home from school, a paper crown suddenly appeared on his head. His mother held a cake, and his younger siblings laughed as they smeared cream on his face. Everyone sang the birthday song together. He made a wish—that his family would always be healthy and happy together.

Beyond the dream, a pair of narrow, sharp eyes slowly opened.

He sniffed greedily at the air, muttering to himself or perhaps speaking to a figure dressed in black nearby.

“I’m not mistaken. I heard ‘her’ humming.”

“The plan has truly begun.”

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The next morning, Wu Que opened his eyes slowly. He had eaten well last night, slept soundly, and had a beautiful dream that at least diluted some of his negative emotions. Yet his vision began to blur again.

He grew irritated, blinking hard to ease the discomfort caused by his eyelashes rubbing his eyeballs, but everything remained hazy.

“Damn it, might as well be dead.”

Grumbling, Wu Que walked to the water basin. Staring at his blurred reflection, his face seemed fragmented by the rippling water—his nose no longer looked like a nose, his mouth no longer like a mouth, but his pupils remained clear, staring back like an abyss.

Locked in gaze with those bright eyes, Wu Que’s blurry vision gradually cleared.

“My pupils... they seem to have changed color. They’re very red.”

He rubbed his eyes again and looked into the basin once more.

“Yes, they’ve definitely changed color. It’s not bloodshot.”

Glancing back, “White Immortal” was curled up, sound asleep in the chair. Yet the way her legs were spread, the deep snores, and the drool at the corner of her mouth gave her no hint of any celestial grace.

“But... did Master wear this same outfit yesterday?”

Wu Que looked more closely. Although his master still wore pure white, it was no longer the skirt from before but rather simple linen pants and a tunic.

“The old fellow sure likes to keep clean, and he even changes clothes.”

Wu Que muttered, stretching his body, only to be surprised that his own student uniform beneath him had vanished, replaced by the strapless white dress that his master had worn days earlier. The only thing unchanged was the armor his master had made yesterday.

“Oh, so that’s it?”

It had been two days and nights since entering this dream. It was clearly not just a change of clothing, but a transformation of the entire body.

Judging by appearances, the span of this dream was even longer than initially imagined.

Wu Que stepped forward, grabbed a cigarette from the table, lit it, and carefully studied his still-sleeping master.

Now, his master looked about thirty-something, dressed neatly and cleanly. Though her face bore no makeup, her complexion was excellent. This indicated that after some years, Xu Jiabai in the dream was still living well.

The more he thought about it, the more eerie it became.

What dreadful event after this time had plunged her into this endless nightmare?

“Wuwu... wuwuwu...”

Sobs from outside interrupted his thoughts. Wu Que quickly scanned the courtyard but saw no sign of the woman.

“Trouble!”

He flicked away his cigarette, the black blade instantly in his hand. With a twirl of his skirt and long legs, he dashed toward the door.

Just as he stepped outside, he spotted the woman standing near a corner not far from the entrance. Wu Que breathed a sigh of relief.

She looked older now, her back bent, clothes ragged—clearly a poor old woman who had endured many hard years.

Her face was full of scolding, hands on her hips, muttering something.

Opposite her was a refined man in his early thirties. He was working but remained unfazed by the woman’s reproaches, smiling indulgently before suddenly grabbing her hand.

The old woman instantly lost her resentment, her aged face softening into the expression of a delicate young girl, gazing lovingly at the man.

Wu Que recognized this man—it was the father from the fragment of yesterday’s dream.

He wanted to approach and ask what was happening but feared disturbing the tender moment between his parents. Clutching his black blade, he didn’t know where to put his hands and hesitated.

The “father” noticed him and gave a gentle smile.

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“Little one, Daddy’s been away so long and you’ve grown so much, even started dressing up. You’re prettier than your mother was at your age.”

Wu Que stepped forward, mouth opening to ask something, but the man continued, “Little one, Daddy has to leave. I’m only here to see you and your mother. You know, I really shouldn’t be here.”

After saying this, his figure slowly turned translucent. The old woman seemed to realize something, crying and lunging toward him but stumbled and fell.

When young, she could still stand by her daughter’s side at the husband’s grave after he passed, but now, freed from all responsibility, she could finally collapse into the mud and cry her heart out.

As the “father’s” figure disappeared, the system’s cold notification sounded again:

“Congratulations, dream completer, you have triggered the hidden storyline: Fatherly Love, and obtained a key item: Soul Jade.”

“Wearing this item will help the dream completer resist some effects of mental erosion.”

After the system’s message ended, a jade pendant materialized around Wu Que’s neck. The moment it touched his skin, he felt a warm and refreshing sensation spread from his chest.

Even the noise in his mind quieted somewhat.

“This jade pendant actually has such power?”

He carefully examined it. The pendant was pale jade, finely crafted, carved with a bright eye.

The carved eye seemed alive—wise, profound, giving the impression that if you stared too long, you might fall into it.

Wu Que gazed at the pendant for a long moment, then slowly raised his head, breathing in the fresh morning air. He flicked the remaining cigarette into a foul gutter.

“Damn it, damn it! It’s just a damn dream!”

“My mother is still waiting for me!”

“Whoever tries to stop me, I’ll tear their tendons out!”

No sooner had he vowed this in his heart than a strong metallic scent of blood wafted through the nearby alley.

With the smell came heavy boot steps, angry curses, and the clashing of metal.

Wu Que felt a bit frustrated, as if he truly had a jinx on him.

This nightmare was like an enormous monster-spawning cage, constantly birthing new horrors anytime, anywhere—truly a headache.