Dream?

Zhu Ke’s face was grim.

He had sensed something was amiss earlier, when Xiao Yun dodged Zhu Zifeng, but with the young master urging him to seize her, he hadn’t thought too much and moved to act. Now, instead of capturing his target, he was the one caught, his imposing demeanor shattered, afraid to even breathe loudly.

Li Miao glanced at the two and said, “So you possess some cultivation. You think yourself a deity? With such skills you dare to act arrogant? Clearly, you don’t even know what death means.”

Cold sweat poured from Zhu Ke’s brow, terrified Li Miao might be moved to kill. He quickly pleaded, “Forgive me, friend, forgive me! On behalf of my young master, I apologize to you and this lady. Please be magnanimous and don’t take this to heart.”

Zhu Zifeng, too, was nervous, head bowed, not daring to utter a word. His earlier swagger had vanished entirely.

However unruly he might be, he wasn’t foolish. The vast difference in strength was obvious, and with none of the powerful return-to-origin cultivators of his family present, he dared not provoke Li Miao further.

Li Miao snorted softly and released Zhu Ke. “Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

Over a trivial dispute, he would not stoop to killing; driving them away was enough.

Given this reprieve, Zhu Ke felt as if granted amnesty. Glancing at his wrist, already bruised and aching, he realized even his cultivation couldn’t dispel the blood congestion—proof of Li Miao’s terrifying finger strength.

Ignoring the pain, he hurriedly pulled Zhu Zifeng along, saying, “Thank you for your mercy, friend. We’ll take our leave now. Until we meet again.” And they fled as if escaping, heading for the main city of Pangshan.

Zhu Zifeng, before leaving, cast a lingering glance at Xiao Yun.

Outside, the streets were wide; the two vanished quickly into the twilight, running toward the main city.

Peace returned to the inn.

Li Miao shook his head, helpless.

After such an interruption, his appetite for food and drink was gone. The feast before him lost its allure, becoming ordinary and dull.

He said, “I’m done eating. I’ll go rest. Xiao Yun, amuse yourself as you wish. Tomorrow at dawn, come with me into the city.”

With those words, he rose and headed upstairs.

Xiao Yun replied, “Yes, master.” Glancing at the remaining delicacies, reluctant to waste them, she returned to her seat and resumed eating with ease, savoring each bite as if nothing had happened.

As long as there was no fighting or danger, she could remain carefree, unconcerned even if the sky collapsed.

Li Miao ascended the stairs.

Just then, two cultivators in the corner, He Xianyuan and Yu Ruofei, called out, “Brother, please wait.”

The pair, a man and a woman, approached, cupping their hands respectfully. “He Xianyuan and Yu Ruofei, disciples of the Outer Academy of Huangting Institute, greet you.”

Unlike Zhu Zifeng, these two were not spoiled heirs. Yet their proud, aloof manner upon entering earlier had not endeared them to Li Miao.

He did not return the courtesy, merely asking, “Is there something you need?” Not even willing to give his name.

The two exchanged a glance.

Yu Ruofei, a touch pale, said, “Zhu Zifeng is reckless and arrogant. He offended you, brother; please don’t take it to heart.”

He Xianyuan continued, “Though we’re also Outer Academy disciples of Huangting Institute, we don’t get along with him. We only travel together because we received the same trial mission.”

“Oh? And?” Li Miao asked.

He Xianyuan said, “Brother, you’ve made an enemy of Zhu Zifeng. With his temperament, the Phantom Sword Pavilion will likely trouble you. I know your cultivation is deep, but as the saying goes, two fists can’t beat four hands, and even a hero can be overwhelmed by numbers. If the Pavilion resorts to violence, you could be in danger.” He looked genuinely worried, as if concerned for Li Miao.

Li Miao showed no reaction.

He went on, “The Phantom Sword Pavilion is in Pangshan City. If you enter the city tomorrow, please be cautious.”

“And, if you have nowhere to stay, you can come to Huangting Institute. Both I and my junior Yu are top-ranked Outer Academy disciples and can recommend you for admission. With your talent, you might even enter the Inner Academy directly.”

His words were both kindly warning and generous offer; to an outsider, they might seem the epitome of benevolence.

Yet Li Miao remained unmoved.

He remembered clearly: earlier, Zhu Zifeng mentioned these two had encountered danger in the Blood Mist Mountains and were saved by Zhu Ke, a cultivator of the True Condensation realm.

Though He and Yu didn’t get along with Zhu Zifeng, they owed their lives to those who had rescued them—a great debt.

Yet they turned around to speak ill of their benefactor, revealing themselves as petty souls.

Thus, as He Xianyuan spoke, Li Miao labeled them as “opportunistic ingrates,” unwilling to engage further.

“Thank you for the warning. If there’s no urgent matter, I’ll retire. Please suit yourselves.”

He spoke lightly, then turned and ascended to the second floor, ignoring He Xianyuan’s repeated calls.

Li Miao was no fool. He saw clearly that He and Yu, recognizing his strength, sought to win his favor and forge connections.

But he despised hypocrites who played both sides.

Such people, who exaggerated danger to curry favor, were not worth his time.

He stepped into his room, shut the door, and shut out the world’s noise.

Inside, hot water prepared by the attendant awaited. He enjoyed a long bath, then went straight to bed and slept deeply.

He had not yet reached the Sky Realm and couldn’t fully do without sleep or food; extended deprivation would weaken him.

He had been through much lately, gone long without proper rest, and was mentally exhausted, needing a good night’s sleep.

He cared little for He Xianyuan’s words.

The Phantom Sword Pavilion would not mobilize en masse against him.

Driving away Zhu Zifeng was a minor incident; at worst, they might exchange cold glances next time. If the Pavilion sent a host of experts over such a trivial matter, their temperament would be laughably petty.

There were countless sects in the world, each with many disciples, and every disciple had their own dislikes.

If a single person could embroil an entire sect, such a sect would be insignificant.

The greater the power, the less likely they were to make enemies lightly.

For the weak, they were not worth enmity.

For the strong, they were best avoided.

Perhaps he had gone too long without sleep; the moment Li Miao closed his eyes, he fell into deep slumber, unconscious.

In that haze, he seemed to dream.

In the dream, he possessed immense power—strength equal to the invincible, able to shatter continents with a step, tear the starry sky with a blade, the whole world bowing at his feet.

But he was lost, a voice urging him to seek something, or someone.

Suddenly, a mad Daoist clad in black and white robes, holding a cloth banner, strode across the stars to stand before him, shouting, “Boy, since you’ve found her, why won’t you bring her to see me!”

The shout shook the universe and stars.

Li Miao felt a strange fear.

Then the dream shifted. The starry sky vanished, the mad Daoist disappeared. In his view was a towering mountain shaped like a grave mound, before which a flock of jade butterflies with blue and white wings fluttered around him.

As he admired their beauty, a flash of fire appeared; Master Yang Yan, an elder with red hair and robes, swept his sleeve, gathering all the butterflies into the world within, and the grave-shaped mountain receded, disappearing from sight.

Scenes flickered in rapid succession:

A giant eagle with mighty wings destroying cities…

A desert dragon whipping its tail and splitting the earth…

A young girl shattering the sky with her fist…

A blossoming pear tree heralding spring…

An expedition fleet descending on a massive planet, sweeping all before them; immortal powers dueling peerless sword immortals, destroying billions of stars; a butcher in a bamboo hat ending an old dog with a single stroke…

One scene after another flashed by like fleeting shadows.

After an unknown interval, the world before him gradually brightened.

Li Miao opened his eyes, thinking he had awoken at dawn.

But no—it was just another dream.

This dream returned him to the mothership of the Ninth Fleet of the Expedition Army, to a command room he had never been qualified to enter.

Inside, a commander radiating the aura of an immortal knelt on one knee, facing a blue planet in the starry sky, and reported, “Great Leader, we have searched the entire star sector, probing even the Nine Great Secret Realms, yet we still have not found the extraordinary warrior Li Miao, serial number CXM090626.”

The blue planet rotated in the sky, accompanied by a gray-white moon.

A misty voice sounded in the command room: “That child has broken through the multiverse barrier; you cannot find him.”

“Multiverse…?” The commander was shocked. “Great Leader, that child possesses both the Heart of the Universe and the Holy Body of the Galaxy—if discovered by foreign powers, wouldn’t that…”

“It does not matter. This is his destiny. I have traveled to the end of time and seen all; he will never betray this universe. All you need do is care for his family and await his triumphant return.”

“Yes, Great Leader.”

The commander rose and left the command room.

After he departed, the starry sky ahead suddenly brightened. In the silent darkness, a pair of eyes formed from starlight appeared, gazing toward the command room, blinking slowly.

“Child, go and conquer that world. I believe you can do it.”

That ethereal voice, gentle and kind, echoed deep within the dream.

———

“Master, master, wake up.”

Xiao Yun’s clear, melodious voice gently called in his ear.

Li Miao awoke from his dream to find the little demon girl in a snowy dress standing by his bed, idly playing with the white feathers on her arm.

He focused his gaze and saw daylight streaming in—the sun already high in the sky.

“I slept this long?” he asked in surprise.

He had gone to bed after his bath before night had fully fallen; now it was nearly midday—he’d slept for seven or eight hours.

Xiao Yun nodded. “A long time, master. Those two unconscious mortals have already woken. I didn’t want to disturb you, but since you said we’d go to the main city early today, and morning is nearly over, I decided to wake you.”

Li Miao got out of bed, dressed in his exquisite armor and clothes, feeling fully refreshed.

He looked in the brass mirror atop the cabinet, saw his own radiant, spirited reflection—seeming even more handsome than before—and nodded in satisfaction.

“We’ll enter the city soon. Let me check on the two.”

Liang Jun and Luo Erfu were the last survivors of the merchant ship; Li Miao hadn’t been able to save everyone, and felt some guilt.

He left his room and went downstairs.

Liang Jun and Luo Erfu were sitting in the inn’s main hall, heads bowed in gloom.

Seeing him, they hurriedly rose and asked, “Sir Li, you’re awake. What about the others from our ship?”

Xiao Yun hadn’t spoken to them, so they still didn’t know what had happened after they lost consciousness—only vaguely recalling seeing many monsters, their companions killed or dismembered.

Li Miao said, “Sorry, my abilities were limited; I couldn’t save everyone. But that Lord of the River and his monster companions have been slain by me, so at least vengeance has been taken.”

“Sigh…”

Liang Jun let out a heavy breath and sank into his seat.

He had glimpsed Li Miao battling monsters at the cold pool lair, and had guessed the outcome, but hearing the news of his companions' deaths was still hard to bear.

Luo Erfu sobbed, tears shining in his eyes.

Losing two brothers was a crushing blow.

Li Miao ordered some food and drink, sat with them, and asked, “What are your plans now? If there’s any way I can help, speak freely.”

Liang Jun forced a smile. “I had hoped to earn a living ferrying passengers to Pangshan City, but now the ship is gone. I suppose I’ll have to start over, slowly accumulating enough to try again.”

Luo Erfu said, “With my brothers gone, running business here alone will be difficult. Best to return to Longling and safeguard the family holdings first.”

They remained optimistic; though faced with adversity and loss, they did not sink into despair and soon found a new direction.

Li Miao felt somewhat relieved.

After a moment’s thought, he drew a vial from his microcosm, dispensing two “Vitality Pills,” handing one to each. “These are for strengthening the body and prolonging life. Consider it a small compensation from me.”

Liang Jun and Luo Erfu, smelling the pills’ fragrance, felt their spirits lift. “Sir Li, you’re too kind. You saved our lives; the deaths of others aren’t your fault. If blame is due, it’s that Lord of the River. Don’t reproach yourself too much.”

Hearing this, Li Miao felt much better.

He pressed the pills into their hands. “Take them.”