Bamboo Chest Chapter Forty-Two: Entering the Dream

Inside the Hundred Thousand Mountains, Lu Yun guided Song Lian as they traversed the terrain. Song Lian looked up, only to realize he could not discern the true scale of the surrounding peaks, appearing as if they were simultaneously at the mountainside and beneath the summits.

"Do not look," Lu Yun warned. He did not believe anyone would dare attack him before the Old Blind Man’s Hundred Thousand Mountains. Either they had not truly reached the mountains at all, or... Lu Yun abruptly stopped, his gaze fixed on a stone pavilion ahead.

Beneath the pavilion, an old man sat before a chessboard, lost in deep contemplation. Sensing Lu Yun’s arrival, the old man turned his head and spoke in a raspy voice. "What is a human?"

Lu Yun paused, then immediately pulled Song Lian to run in the opposite direction. Yet, they had not gone far before another stone pavilion appeared before them. This time, the old man was not at the chessboard; he stood under the pavilion, staring at Lu Yun. "What is a demon?"

Lu Yun frowned and continued to pull Song Lian away. A short while later, the old man stroked his white beard, looked at the pale-faced pair, and spoke for the third time. "What is the Great Way of Heaven and Earth?"

"If you do not think of it, such questions would not exist," Lu Yun replied coldly. He gripped his sword, ready to strike.

To his surprise, the old man simply nodded to himself. "That makes sense." Tears suddenly streamed down the old man’s face. "But I cannot bear to pretend I do not see."

"Who are you?" Lu Yun demanded.

"Me?" the old man muttered. "Who am I?" Suddenly, he seemed to spiral into madness. "I know! I am the Elder of the White Plains! I am the Elder of the White Plains!"

***

The Elder of the White Plains? Lu Yun had never heard the name. The next moment, the distant Hundred Thousand Mountains and the nearby stone pavilion all warped and twisted, leaving only the old man, who stumbled toward Lu Yun.

"Master Lu, are you truly at ease?" A faint, profound blue light emanated from the old man's eyes. Even with the protection of moonlight, Lu Yun felt himself gradually sinking into them.

***

In the fifteenth year of Xingping, the nation was prosperous and the people at peace. The capital, Qianjing, was bustling; merchants came and went in a constant stream, and pedestrians moved at a leisurely pace, chatting idly.

During the morning court session, the Imperial Scribe, tasked with overseeing supernatural affairs, stepped forward and spoke in a clear voice, "Your Majesty, it is reported that a tiger demon of the Upper Five Realms has appeared in Hexi, wreaking havoc and causing the local populace great suffering."

Yuan Mo, sitting high upon the throne, now possessed the face of a middle-aged man. His resolute features no longer held the scholarly air of his youth, replaced by an aura of imperial authority. "Then kill it."

Yuan Mo’s voice reached the scribe through the beaded curtain. The scribe bowed, "Your Majesty, this tiger demon’s cultivation is profound. I fear it will require the intervention of the State Preceptor or the Fairy of Moonlight."

Yuan Mo looked down at the man in black standing by his side. "State Preceptor, what is your view?"

The black-clad man, a sword hanging at his waist, nodded. "Very well."

***

After court, the Imperial Scribe caught up to the State Preceptor, Lu Yun, in three quick strides. Wiping the nervous sweat from his brow, he smiled, "Master Lu, shall we depart now?"

Lu Yun nodded. The scribe, accustomed to Lu Yun’s silence, continued on his own, "In recent years, more and more great demons from the Wildlands have been heading toward our White Plains. This cannot go on..."

"Why not?" Lu Yun looked at the scribe, his eyes appearing devoid of any emotion. "As long as they are obedient and keep to themselves, the Kingdom of White Plains need not reject their arrival."

"But Master Lu, only you and the Fairy of Moonlight have ascended in our kingdom. If all the great demons from the Wildlands come here, how can we manage?" The scribe shook his head. "I believe we must stop them at our borders! The prosperity of the White Plains was built step by step by you and His Majesty. Why should they enjoy it so comfortably without contributing anything?!"

Lu Yun stopped walking and asked abruptly, "Who are you?"

The scribe paused, bowed, and said, "The State Preceptor should recognize me. I am the Imperial Scribe of the White Plains, nameless."

***

"Nameless," Lu Yun said. "Wait for me here. I must take someone with me to Hexi." The scribe naturally agreed and waited where he stood.

Before long, Lu Yun returned, leading a reluctant youth. "Why bring me along to kill a tiger demon?" the youth grumbled.

The scribe immediately bowed. "Young Master Song Lian." This Song Lian was Lu Yun’s eldest disciple and the proudest youth in the White Plains.

"Watch closely. Do not think that because your great revenge has been fulfilled, you can afford to slack off," Lu Yun said faintly, pulling his sleeves together.

Song Lian looked unconvinced. "I have never slacked off in my cultivation!" Lu Yun stared at him without speaking. Song Lian’s mouth twitched; despite his defiance, he muttered, "I know I was wrong..."

Lu Yun said no more and strolled forward. Song Lian approached the scribe and asked curiously, "Are you the new Imperial Scribe? You look quite young!"

The scribe offered an awkward smile. "You are a prodigy, Young Master; my youth is nothing compared to yours."

Song Lian curled his lip and followed Lu Yun. "I don't like him. He’s so dreary, as if the sky is going to collapse tomorrow," he complained to Lu Yun.

"Shut up," Lu Yun replied. He gently gripped the hilt of his sword. The cold touch of the metal brought him a moment of clarity.

"A dream, is it..."

If this were a dream, then was everything he had done before also false?

***

In a small village in Hexi, a tiger demon with blood-red eyes roared at the shivering villagers. For some reason, despite its successful cultivation, the tiger demon had yet to take on human form.