Chapter 375: Beautiful Dream

Late winter, the night carried the scent of plum blossoms.

Lin Jue slept peacefully in bed.

The fox lay on a mat at the foot of the bed, near the window, so it could stay alert to outside movements and protect its Daoist.

Outside, the wind moaned; inside, the lamp glowed dim yellow.

The fox had been lying still, but the tips of its fur trembled slightly; then its ears twitched, and it lifted its head, scanning the room, listening intently to the courtyard beyond.

No movement at all.

The fox's eyes cleared, and it leaned forward to glance at the table, then at the bed—seeing the night lamp untouched and the Daoist breathing evenly—its gaze softened again, and it lowered its head to resume sleep.

Yet the Daoist dreamed of spirits.

There was a range of emerald-blue mountains, half-morning, half-dusk, layers upon layers stacked together, shadows tinged blue, a thousand li of rivers and mountains, boundless scenery.

A white cloud carried dozens of heavenly soldiers; the two notorious gods, Evil Bandit and Furious Thief, each stepped upon a golden wheel, their brows furrowed with anger, ready to confront Lin Jue.

They wanted to question him, yet did not know how to begin.

So they merely glared at him, eyes wide with fury.

"Heh…"

How could Lin Jue not know why they had come?

In dreams, why hide? Seeing their frustrated expressions, Lin Jue wanted to laugh—as if the three months of waiting had become all the more worthwhile.

Yet he asked aloud:

"I was sleeping soundly in my small courtyard in the capital. Why have you two divine generals visited me in my dream this late at night, weaving this vision?"

Lin Jue's expression was relaxed and cheerful, as if he had truly slept deeply.

"Hmph!"

The Furious Thief god-general let out a low growl; thunder cracked across heaven and earth. The ten thousand li of green mountains, once clear-skied, suddenly swirled with dark clouds, wind and lightning raging.

"Huh? What's wrong, divine general?"

"Don't play the fool! What did you do at Baoquan several days ago? Don't you know?"

"Several days ago? Baoquan? Oh!" Lin Jue suddenly understood. "Earlier, I exterminated a demon at Baoquan—thanks to your golden mace, you slew that leopard demon. Once that demon lord was gone, I felt joy and trained deeply at Baoquan, using its blessed land to strengthen my Dao, nourishing my soul with its spiritual essence. But one night, a demon appeared—its appearance bore a striking resemblance to the demon lord you had destroyed with your mace. I couldn't tell if it had escaped death or if another demon had impersonated it—but I dealt with it on the spot."

He paused.

"So that's why you summoned me here to admire the scenery? Just like in Cuiwei County—you came to thank me for exterminating the demon!"

"Hmph!"

"Huh? Isn't that it? Why do you look so displeased? Are you angry with me for exterminating the demon?"

"… "

The Furious Thief god-general had no reply, only stared coldly at him.

Lin Jue knew that though the Nine Heavens' spirits were now embroiled in conflict and some True Lords had fallen, the spirit system remained intact.

Take the case of the Holy Guardian Husheng Husheng Zhenjun's celestial leopard descending to cause chaos—it was done secretly. Had the leopard not been in mortal danger, the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun would never have appeared, never acknowledged any connection to it, offering only hidden spells and aid from the shadows. Even to retrieve the leopard, they needed an excuse—and in the end, they still had to resort to trickery to make it appear legitimate on the surface.

After all, they were spirits.

As Master Jiang had said, we're not there yet.

The Leopard Lord truly caused chaos; I killed it, and no one could object. Besides, that leopard was killed by your own hands—how could I have killed it again?

In the dream, Lin Jue smiled brightly; the gods' faces grew dark.

The Furious Thief god-general stepped back; the other, the Evil Bandit, stepped forward.

This god-general smiled:

"Master, you misunderstand. We never mentioned that."

"Oh?"

"A few days ago, while clearing the demon lord's cave, we discovered a hidden stone grotto. It should have held treasures—but they vanished. Where did they go?"

"That demon lord caused chaos for years, harming countless lives and looting many treasures. But we were the ones who destroyed him—so those treasures naturally became our spoils. Why ask me?" Lin Jue replied with the same smile, for he understood these spirits' schemes perfectly—

You think you can use this to trap me? It won't work.

"Not those," the Evil Bandit continued smiling. "Didn't we already tell you the demon was an impostor pretending to be the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun's celestial leopard? Before it descended, it stole two scripture scrolls from the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun's treasure vault—scrolls of the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun's signature arts. We searched the mortal realm for ages and found nothing. Alas, these are divine artifacts—the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun is pressing us hard. Could they be in your possession?"

"Ah…"

Lin Jue's mind flashed with thoughts.

Are they trying to make me lie, so they can catch me in a falsehood?

He had heard tales in the capital—of people punished by spirits for deceiving them, or suffering after death, or having their past merits erased—yet such stories mostly served moral instruction, meant to deter lies, especially before spirits. Hard to say if they were true or mere fables.

If I don't lie…

Are they trying to find fault with me?

Or just to annoy me, make me miserable—so I learn fewer powerful arts?

The two gods studied him.

Yet the Daoist still smiled:

"I did see two scripture scrolls. Don't worry, divine generals. When I wake tomorrow, I'll take them to Zhenjian Palace and place them before the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun's statue."

"… "

The two gods exchanged glances.

Only the Daoist stood there, calm and fearless, admiring the open scenery—and the gods' frustrated, helpless expressions.

…Dreams and reality seemed to belong to separate worlds. Unless deliberately remembered, dream events faded quickly upon waking—Lin Jue could no longer clearly recall last night's dream.

He only remembered the joy, the ease.

The two gods had surely been scolded by the Husheng Husheng Zhenjun—but they could do nothing to him. Even with his rare boldness, they could only mutter, "Mind your own ways," and vanish from his dream.

Yet upon reflection, the leopard's connection to the Holy Guardian Husheng Husheng Zhenjun must be unusual.

Lin Jue had discussed this with Pan Gong, Master Fan, and Master Nan. Such cases—like the Holy Guardian Husheng Husheng Zhenjun and the leopard—had occurred often in history.

The spirit path is bound, immortality dull. Spirits, too, can fall. Especially True Lords of War—warriors easily break taboos, and their moral standing is generally lower than that of ritual or bureaucratic spirits. Some True Lords were once cultivators who ascended through martial strength and were recruited as spirits—never born of worship, never held to moral standards. Morality? Hard to say.

But such things often backfire.

Because beasts are naturally fierce and combative; if they attain true Dao in chaotic times, once they abandon all limits, their cultivation can surge rapidly—and slip free from spirit control.

Some martial True Lords, grown too comfortable, find their mounts have surpassed them in power.

The Holy Guardian Husheng Husheng Zhenjun dared this—so he must have had his reasons to trust the leopard, just as the leopard trusted him.

No error in one word, one syllable, one detail!

Yet now they still dare send gods to confront me…

Perhaps the bond between the Holy Guardian Husheng Husheng Zhenjun and the leopard is truly special—like mine and my Good Fuyao's.

If one day my Good Fuyao…

Fortunately, I've trained Good Fuyao well.

In future, I must be more careful—don't let them find any excuse, any opening.

For now, I'll return to Yishan and lie low.

"Ah…"

Lin Jue felt refreshed, stepped out of the house.

Smoke already curled from the kitchen.

A colorful lynx appeared at the door, its body blocked by the threshold, only its head visible, staring straight at them, expression stern—as if scolding them for rising so late.

"Third Shixiong's awake? I made vegetable and pork porridge, and eggs—from my own chickens!" the junior sister said. "Oh, I haven't told you yet—I returned to Yishan and let the chickens and ducks roam free on the hills, asking Master Hua to check on them occasionally. But the old man didn't bother collecting eggs. When I got back to Fengshan, the hills were swarming with chickens and ducks—and covered in droppings!"

"That's good, isn't it?"

"We can't even eat them all!"

"How can there be too much meat?"

"Huh?" The junior sister stared at him. "What's wrong? Third Shixiong seems unusually happy?"

"I had a beautiful dream."

"What kind of beautiful dream?"

"Beautiful scenery. Beautiful things."

"Fine, don't tell me!"

The junior sister stood by the door, half her body hidden by the frame: "When do we return to Yishan?"

"Better to act now than wait."

"Then which day?"

"Today."

"Good!"

"But first, we should buy some things in the capital—stock up on New Year goods—and bring toys and snacks for those two—oh, now three of them."

"Great!"

Somehow, returning to Yishan had become a light, easy thing for the brother and sister.

Like traveling from Fengshan to the capital, or from Yishan to Yixian.

The junior sister's vegetable and pork porridge tasted fine—after all, all it needed was salt.

After breakfast, they stepped out.

In the capital, the New Year atmosphere grew heavier by the day—lanterns hung everywhere, doors plastered with couplets, taverns and brothels draped in colorful lights, the Eastern and Western Markets bustling with activity.

The Daoist nun from Fengshan had not strolled with her brother in ages. She held her fly-whisk close, turning her head, eyes wide with curiosity. What she saw were ordinary things—but she had a gift for seeing wonder in them.

She couldn't help recalling that day long ago when she descended the mountain, entered the city with her junior brother and seventh brother, captured a rat demon, returned the silver, and wandered idle through Yixian with her brother.

At that time, Yixian was naturally not as bustling as the capital then.

Yet in her heart, it was nearly the same.

She still remembered how her senior brother bought her a serving of ice cream—it was expensive, and she had pained over it for a long time, yet now, recalling the taste, it seemed to still linger on her tongue.

In a daze, she heard that refined cry again—

Thick yet crisp, just set yet ready to drift;

Jade shatters at the dish's bottom, snow melts at the lips' edge.

The Daoist nun, clutching her dust whisk, leaned forward to look.

Then she reached into her robe and pulled out silver coins.

This time, it was her turn to treat her senior brother.

(End of Chapter)