Chapter 154: A Dream as a “Projection”

Beneath a dim and oppressive sky stretched a barren plain. The air reeked of a nauseating mix of decay and blood, creating a stifling stench that made one’s stomach churn.

A small figure, dressed in white mourning clothes and wearing a mourning cap, knelt before a tombstone. In front of them was a bamboo basket filled with paper money shaped like copper coins.

The figure methodically placed the paper money before the tombstone and set it alight. Looking ahead, countless tombstones stretched endlessly into the horizon.

Some tombstones bore engraved names, with ashes from burned offerings scattered in front of them. However, the majority were empty, with nothing adorning their barren surfaces.

Rustle—

The small figure, shrouded in oversized mourning clothes, slowly stood up. In their pale hand, a rusted iron hammer and a long iron nail appeared.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The figure hammered at the tombstone for a while, and a line of text gradually emerged.

Nearby, the translucent figure of Gu Ning’an held the Hongchen Sword, straining to read the names on the tombstone. Yet, the names were shrouded in a thick white mist, obscuring them no matter what methods he employed.

“Mu Sheng!” Gu Ning’an called out. But the slender figure, busy carving names onto the tombstone, seemed not to hear him. Instead, she put away her hammer and nail and turned to walk away.

After great effort entering Mu Sheng’s dream, Gu Ning’an discovered it was unlike any other he had encountered.

Here, Mu Sheng was not the master of her dream. Gu Ning’an could only view the dreamworld through her perspective.

In other words, he could see only what Mu Sheng saw in her dream.

Additionally, unlike the dream of the one-armed swordsman, Gu Ning’an’s words and actions in this dream had no impact on Mu Sheng.

It was as if Gu Ning’an were merely watching a “dream projection” through Mu Sheng’s perspective.

At this moment, Mu Sheng walked forward, and the scene of the sea of corpses and rivers of blood behind her came into Gu Ning’an’s view.

What kind of sight was this?

Corpses were piled so high they seemed to reach the heavens, with fresh bodies constantly falling from the murky sky like rain.

If the sheer number of tombstones before had seemed overwhelming, then compared to the endless mountains of corpses, the tombstones were nothing more than a mere speck in a vast ocean.

Dressed in her mourning attire, Mu Sheng casually picked a corpse from the mountain, slung it over her shoulder, and walked back to the tombstone.

Then, she proceeded with the same seamless routine: opening a coffin, placing the corpse inside, nailing it shut, burying it, burning paper money, and engraving a name.

After completing the process, Mu Sheng turned back to the mountain of corpses and picked up another body.

The pile of corpses contained men and women, young and old. Their clothing varied wildly—some dressed like simple farmers, others like magistrates presiding in court, and others still like carefree swordsmen wandering the jianghu.

Determined to uncover what lay beyond the ominous sky, Gu Ning’an channeled all the Worldly Qi stored within the Hongchen Sword into his eyes.

At that moment, strands of Worldly Qi wove through his pupils, surging and writhing. As he fixed his gaze on the sky, a thunderous sound suddenly erupted from above!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The entire dreamworld shattered like a fractured mirror, with countless web-like cracks spreading outward before the scene collapsed with a deafening crash!

…

Hoo… Whee… Hoo… Whee…

The rhythmic sound of snores mixed with the chirping of insects at night reached Gu Ning’an’s ears once more.

Returning the Worldly Qi into the Hongchen Sword, Gu Ning’an slowly opened his eyes and looked toward the still-sleeping Mu Sheng.

Plop!

A droplet of water fell, splashing on Gu Ning’an’s hand.

Startled, Gu Ning’an looked at the droplet shattered into eight fragments on the back of his hand and instinctively touched his cheek.

Feeling the slightly damp sensation on his face, he murmured, “There’s no sadness in my heart, so why am I shedding tears?”

Activating his spiritual power again, Gu Ning’an attempted to re-enter Mu Sheng’s dream. Unexpectedly, the dream had already dissipated.

Helpless, he could only silently reflect on what he had witnessed.

First, Mu Sheng’s dream seemed more like a projection of memories.

Based on Gu Ning’an’s deductions, this “projection” remained in a stable state. When he entered with his soul split, it didn’t cause any disturbance to the “projection.”

However, when he attempted to peer through the heavens using Worldly Qi, it seemed to trigger a restriction within the “projection,” causing it to self-destruct immediately.

According to his guesses, the projection likely would not reappear. After all, the collapse of a dream usually awakens the dreamer. Yet Mu Sheng showed no reaction at all, suggesting that the “projection” had little influence on her.

To be precise, the connection between the “projection” and her was not the typical bond between a dream and a person.

If that’s the case, after the projection broke, she would likely need to establish some unique “bridge connection” to experience that dream again in the future.

Second, the scene in the dream hinted at a cataclysmic battle, fought in the heavens. The details about the forces involved remained unknown.

However, Gu Ning’an was certain that he, Mu Sheng, and those who perished were on the same side.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have shed tears in the absence of any emotional sorrow.

It felt more like “muscle memory.” While his mind had lost the memory of that harrowing battle, his body hadn’t forgotten it.

To understand his own existence and the missing fragments of his memory, one key point was finding the tomb of Shi Yi’s wife and child, whose location he could only vaguely deduce. Another key point likely lay with Mu Sheng herself.

As the saying goes, “The more doubts, the better.” Whether it was the Path of Dao, Returning to Silence, Worldly Qi, Shi Yi, or the sudden appearance of Mu Sheng, all these people and events seemed tied to the missing parts of Gu Ning’an’s memory.

Somewhere deep within, Gu Ning’an felt that the next time he entered state of Returning to Silence, most of these mysteries might be resolved.

…

The next morning, after a simple breakfast, the group packed their belongings and continued their journey.

On the road, Mu Sheng approached Gu Ning’an with some excitement and said, “Sir, my dream last night ended halfway through. Did you enter my dream?”

“Yes. And for quite some time, you probably won’t dream of that scene again.”

“Did you resolve my dream, Sir? What does it mean?”

Gu Ning’an shook his head. “Not exactly resolved. My intrusion shattered your dream.”

“I couldn’t fully understand it either. But your feeling is correct—we are indeed acquainted.”

“I knew it…” Mu Sheng smiled. “I’m not very talkative, but with you around, Sir, I can’t help but talk more.”

Hearing this, Gu Ning’an chuckled. “It’s good to talk more. At least it makes the days less dull. For now, come with me to lay my disciple to rest. During this time, I’ll see if your dream reappears.”

“If, after our task is done, it still doesn’t return, then do whatever you wish. If your dream offers any answers, I will come to find you.”

Mu Sheng nodded. “I will follow your lead, Sir.”