Main: A Dream of a Brief Life

The Black Willow Coffin was not large. It fit twelve-year-old Liu Ding exactly.

General Jiang was very satisfied. Smiling, he said, "The timing is just right. If he grew any bigger, it would take quite a bit of trouble." After closing the coffin lid, his expression gradually turned solemn. He muttered an incantation, pointing to the heavens and tracing across the earth.

In the tranquil night sky, wind and clouds surged. Stars filled the heavens, only to be obscured by black clouds pouring in from every direction. A strange aura permeated the void. Even Liu Yandong, waiting below the watchtower, sensed that something major was about to happen.

Crack!

A bolt of lightning like a colossal sword tore across the sky, as though the entire firmament had split apart. With a thunderous boom, torrential rain poured down, and the dark night was swallowed by the storm.

"Ding'er..." Liu Yandong worriedly took a step forward, only to forcibly stop himself. Perhaps this heavenly phenomenon was summoned by that mysterious old man. Ding'er shouldn't get rained on.

Liu Ding had indeed not been drenched by the rain. Lying within the dark Black Willow Coffin, he began to dream. He dreamed that he woke one morning to a warm, damp towel placed over his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw the face of a kind mother. He slung a schoolbag over his back and entered a large building, sitting on cold benches with a crowd of children as they called out, "Good morning, Teacher!"

The years flew past in his dream. From longing to wear a red triangular scarf, to longing to catch the scent of a girl passing by, to longing to own a roaring two-wheeled motorbike...

At last, he found the courage to take a girl's hand. Yet the scent he smelled was not that fragrance he had once known. That fragrance would occasionally drift past him, but it felt incomparably distant.

Though he sighed inwardly, he was still happy to be holding the girl's little hand. Yet he had never expected that a hand easily held could just as easily be taken by another hand. Then he was beaten bloody all over by a herd of bulls commanded by that hand.

"If you've got the guts, then duel me!" he roared, pointing at his 150-horsepower motorbike.

A tide of mocking laughter rose all around him. On the motorbike supported by that hand were two striking characters: 250.

Roar! Roar! Roar!

On an abandoned stretch of road, two motorbikes stood a hundred meters apart, unleashing earth-shaking roars. Their incandescent headlights made the night seem even blacker.

Speed—speed brimming with passion. He viciously twisted the throttle to its limit and roared toward the blazing white headlight ahead.

Yet there was no violent collision of the sort he had feverishly anticipated. That hand panicked. The motorbike suddenly skidded. He lifted the front wheel and screamed past, crushing the terrified eye that hand could not conceal.

When he woke in a white room, he saw a pair of little faces on the verge of tears. He smelled that familiar fragrance. At last, he knew he had been wrong. His trembling hand finally grasped the little hand he had once abandoned.

The girl bent down with her slender waist. He felt his lips touch the softness of her little earlobe, and in a dying voice, he said, "If there is another life, I will never give up."

A teardrop fell onto his cheek. The delicate little face before his eyes gradually blurred, then vanished.

Liu Ding abruptly sat up. The dream had disappeared. Before him was the hazy yellow glow of a lamp. He lay on the stone floor of the family watchtower, surrounded by dampness, just like his wet eyes.

The storm had finally passed. The stars filling the sky shone brightly once more, and the watchtower was as silent as ever.

Without a sound, Liu Yandong finally could no longer restrain his concern and climbed up step by step. The mysterious Cloaked Elder had vanished. All he saw was Liu Ding sitting there blankly.

"Ding'er, you... you... you..." Liu Yandong was both overjoyed and astonished, unable to speak for a moment.

"Oh, Grandpa, it's you." Liu Ding came to himself and called out. He had intended to stop at "it's you," but for some reason, he added the final particle, making himself sound somewhat foolish still.

Foolish? The corner of Liu Ding's mouth curled. In that dream just now, he had lived through a brief lifetime. Everything he needed to understand, he understood.

"Ding'er, are you all right now?" Liu Yandong finally returned to normal. He hurried forward and pressed his large hand against Liu Ding's forehead. It felt cool and comfortable.

"I'm all right now, Grandpa. You don't need to worry." Liu Ding stood up. "Let's go back. Sleeping out in the open isn't fun."

Liu Yandong's mouth twitched. Still a little foolish, then. Yet as he watched Liu Ding dash down the winding stone steps of the watchtower, he felt that he seemed somehow different again.

Could he have been possessed? Thinking of the mysteriously vanished Cloaked Elder, Liu Yandong was frightened by his own thought.

"You worry too much." Suddenly, a faint voice sounded, and the Cloaked Elder gradually materialized.

He could actually turn invisible. Liu Yandong was shocked. "I'm sorry. I only felt that he seemed different."

"He truly is different." The Cloaked Elder gazed toward the retreating figure below the watchtower. "He is no longer foolish. Perhaps he will bring you unparalleled glory."

"Y-you cured his foolishness?" Liu Yandong's heart shook violently.

"To be precise, I repaired his damaged seven souls." The Cloaked Elder nodded.

"Thank you, General Jiang, for your great kindness!" Liu Yandong nearly dropped to his knees, but the Cloaked Elder caught him. Excitedly, he said, "Why did you not reveal yourself just now, Senior? Ding'er should personally kowtow and thank you."

"I cannot reveal myself," General Jiang said. "That little fellow would pester me to death, because even I do not know how he was repaired. I merely tried using this coffin."

General Jiang brought out the Black Willow Coffin and looked at Liu Yandong. "Do you remember it? The small willow coffin into which you personally placed your grandson. Do not be surprised. Liu Ding is your biological grandson. I personally carried him out of the Liu Coffin and placed him at the gate of your daughter-in-law's backyard."

Thud! Liu Yandong's legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground. Muttering, he said, "My biological grandson... How could he still be alive?"

"He truly died. For his resurrection, you must thank the small coffin you made from willow wood." The Cloaked Elder gently stroked the Black Willow Coffin and said leisurely, "As far as I know, this piece of willow wood came from an exceptionally perfect otherworld. It fell during a world-shaking storm of lightning and scattered through three thousand worlds. When your ancestors obtained it, they sensed its extraordinariness and kept it as a family treasure."

"And yet you turned it into a coffin to bury your grandson, who died young." The mysterious elder stepped forward and stared at Liu Yandong.

Cold sweat streamed down Liu Yandong's face. It was too terrifying. This mysterious elder knew everything. The family had indeed stored a piece of charred willow wood, and only the clan head knew its value. His grandson's death had reduced his world to ashes. In a moment of ruthless resolve, he had made that piece of charred willow wood into a small coffin to bury his grandson.

Deep in his heart, he had longed for a miracle.

Now, the miracle had happened.