Chapter 28: Zhuangzi Dreams of a Butterfly

The person on the altar had long since died, yet stood upright, letting the fresh blood flow down his body and seep into the altar. In such a scene, the people surrounding the altar showed no sign of fear; instead, their faces were twisted with eerie smiles.

At that moment, two figures around the altar rose, wearing the same strange smiles. Step by step, they ascended the altar, standing among the other corpses. Then, reaching up, they gouged out their own eyes.

The sight sent chills down the spine and made one draw a cold breath. Lu Yan’s expression changed dramatically; this scene was far too familiar.

Martial Spirits!

Back in Leaning Mountain Village, the villagers had been the same. But then there were only a few—now, there were more than a hundred.

A guttural, suppressed roar echoed from beneath the altar as the eyes rolled down, a sound of barely contained excitement.

“This is bad—it’s Martial Spirits performing the ‘Demonization Rite’. This Martial Spirit is nearly at Bone Force. Trespassers will die. We must leave now!” One of the Liu retainers, face ashen, seized Liu Xingren and retreated in panic.

The others were equally terrified. The idea of wiping out the bandits vanished; all they wanted now was to escape this hellish place.

Even if this was the first time for the Martial Spirits performing the rite, none of them were a match—they’d have to wait for the Marquises of the noble clans to handle such monsters.

Lu Yan retreated faster than the rest.

But after only a few steps, he felt a wave of dizziness, his eyelids heavy, his consciousness blurring.

Within a few breaths, darkness closed over him, and he knew no more.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally opened his eyes.

What he saw was a whitewashed wall, white linens, and a peculiar, uncomfortable smell.

“A hospital. A ward.”

The thought flashed through Lu Yan’s mind.

“Xiao Yan, you’re finally awake. You nearly scared your mother to death.”

A gentle voice came from the side.

Lu Yan turned his head and saw three familiar faces gazing at him with concern.

“Dad, Mom, Sister... Why are they here? No, this isn’t Great Chu, nor Changfeng City. This is Earth...”

Lu Yan was bewildered. What was going on?

The parents he thought of weren’t Lu Qingshan and Wang Cui, but his parents on Earth: Lu Jianguo and Li Lanxiang.

“Little brother, you’ve been unconscious for two whole days and nights. You scared us half to death.” A woman in her thirties spoke with concern and a hint of reproach.

It was Lu Yan’s sister, Lu Zhi.

Suddenly, Lu Yan’s temples throbbed with a splitting headache.

“What’s happening? Wasn’t I in Changfeng City, fighting with the Liu clan against bandits? Right, the Martial Spirits—I saw them and tried to run. How did I end up back on Earth?”

Lu Yan’s mind was a tangled mess.

“Little brother, the doctor said you’re just too exhausted. I know you—working by day, staying up at night to write. You can’t keep doing this,” Lu Zhi nagged.

“Xiao Yan, your sister is right. I’ve already taken a long leave for you from work. Focus on resting and getting your strength back,” Li Lanxiang advised.

“Don’t go on, let Xiao Yan rest now that he’s just woken up,” said Lu Jianguo.

“I remember now—back then, I fainted from exhaustion after writing all night. When I woke up, my soul had traveled to Great Chu. Could all of that have been false, just a dream?”

“If it was a dream, it was too real—noble clans, martial arts, martial foods, my parents...”

Everything was vivid in his mind.

Especially his days with Lu Qingshan and Wang Cui—the details felt as real as life itself.

Could dreams be so real?

Lu Yan slipped his hand under the blanket and pinched his thigh hard. A sharp pain made him hiss.

So, it really was a dream.

Unconscious for two days and nights, and he’d had one long dream.

“Xiao Yan, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me. I’ll call the doctor,” Li Lanxiang said, worried.

“Mom, I’m fine,” Lu Yan replied with a smile.

Li Lanxiang’s eyes were ringed with fatigue, her face haggard—she must have kept vigil by his side the whole time.

Lu Jianguo and Lu Zhi looked much the same.

Looking at their familiar, loving faces so close by, Lu Yan felt a warmth fill his heart.

This was good.

In the dream, hadn’t he longed every day to return, to be with his family?

Come to think of it, Lu Qingshan and Wang Cui were so much like Lu Jianguo and Li Lanxiang—not in appearance, but in character and affection.

Perhaps, subconsciously, he’d projected his parents into his dream, making it so vivid.

A nurse entered then, changed his IV, and reminded them to get him something to eat—nothing greasy, just some broth or porridge.

Lu Zhi immediately placed an order on her phone.

Half an hour later, steaming white rice porridge arrived. Lu Yan drank half a bowl and soon felt his strength returning enough to sit up in bed.

“Dad, Mom, Sister, I missed you so much. I thought I’d never see you again,” Lu Yan said.

“Silly boy, don’t talk like that. Take care of yourself from now on. Your father and I have some savings put aside—enough for you to marry when the time comes,” Li Lanxiang chided gently.

Lu Yan’s heart filled with warmth and his nose stung with emotion. This was the best—no fighting, no constant fear for his life.

The days passed, and after a week, Lu Yan was mostly recovered and discharged from the hospital.

On the twenty-second floor, he stood on the balcony, gazing blankly at the cars rushing by below.

These days, scenes from Changfeng City kept flashing through his mind. The boundaries between dream and reality blurred, making it hard to tell which was which.

“Martial arts in that dream could mobilize vital energy, temper the body, and break the sealed meridians. Here, that would be like being Superman. Maybe I should try.”

No one was home. Lu Yan performed the moves of Iron Thread Fist, but sensed not the slightest trace of vital energy.

“So it really was just a dream. How could it be real? Maybe I got too absorbed in my novel planning...” Lu Yan laughed at himself.

Thinking of the novel, an idea struck him: “Why not turn my dream into a novel? Great Chu, noble clans, martial food, vital energy, sealed meridians, martial body... It all forms a coherent system, as if it’s a real world. If I write it out, maybe readers will make me a star author.”

Excited, Lu Yan opened his laptop and began outlining the story.

“Where should I start? In the dream, after my soul crossed over, I wandered for half a month—that’s not worth writing. Better to begin with Changfeng City.”

Decided, he typed the first line: “At last, I’ve arrived in Changfeng City...”

The dream was so vivid that words poured out of him. His fingers flew over the keys, and he soon had over ten thousand words.

He wrote about arriving in Changfeng City, the Liu clan distributing porridge, the martial army killing, being sent to Leaning Mountain Village, the madwoman’s screams, the scoundrels stealing grain, his father teaching archery...

When he got to the archery lessons, Lu Yan paused, frowning in confusion.

He couldn’t recall what the golden finger in his dream had been.

He only remembered that his martial skills had soared in the dream thanks to the golden finger—but what was it? Now, he had no impression at all.

In the past few days, whenever the dream’s scenes resurfaced, his mind would skip over the golden finger as if it were blank.

Why was that?

Lu Yan frowned and thought hard.

He had a vague sense that the golden finger was lodged somewhere in his mind, but it was completely blank.

Suddenly, a searing pain split his head, as if something inside exploded, bursting into radiant light—a sun floating in his mind.

Gradually, the light dimmed, and a book appeared.

“The Dao Book—that’s it, the Dao Book.”

Lu Yan was wild with joy, but then noticed that the world around him was twisting, the space distorting, and then shattering like glass.

He felt himself sucked into a whirlpool, sinking deeper and deeper, surrounded by darkness.

But the darkness didn’t last long; soon, light appeared before his eyes.

The night, the mountain stronghold, the altar, the sinister bandits, and... the crazed members of the Liu and Wu clans.

“Am I dreaming again? No, this isn’t a dream. This is reality. Then what happened in the hospital? Which side is the dream, and which is real? Which is true, and which is false?”

Clutching his head, Lu Yan’s eyes were filled with confusion.