His body trembled uncontrollably. At that moment, Jiang Cheng finally let himself relax completely. A moment later, the hand resting on his shoulder slowly vanished.
Jiang Cheng understood that Wu had gone to tremendous lengths to wake him from the ghostly dream. Wu's presence was now extremely faint; invading a dream of that magnitude had taken a terrible toll on him.
Wu needed to rest, just like Jiang Cheng.
He turned his head and glanced at the Fatty. The other man's sleeping face left Jiang Cheng in a daze. If Wu hadn't appeared, he might have wondered whether everything that had happened was nothing more than some hazy, illusory dream.
But that dream had nearly cost him his life.
Yet when he remembered Wu's hand settling on his shoulder, Jiang Cheng suddenly felt at ease. He could sense that Wu was telling him to rest without worry.
Perhaps he was utterly exhausted, or perhaps the sudden release of tension had done it. In his half-conscious state, he actually fell asleep, and began dreaming again. Countless bizarre, fantastical scenes flickered past, like a slideshow.
The images instinctively unsettled Jiang Cheng, as if they were foretelling something. Then the scene shifted abruptly, and he found himself on a narrow path.
Underfoot lay slabs of bluestone, fitted together. Moss covered them, as if no one had set foot there in ages. Blue mist drifted slowly all around him. Listening closely, he could hear faint sounds of commotion up ahead.
Following the noise, he came to the edge of a lake. The sounds grew clearer, and Jiang Cheng could even make out laughter, singing and dancing, and the interwoven notes of string and wind instruments. What a magnificent spectacle!
But in the next moment, the blood in his veins turned cold. He was as