The Young Corporate Slave Does Not Dream Of...

New author, parallel universe, fictional world; any similar names are purely coincidental. Readers and viewers know how it goes, so please don't take it personally, thank you.

Brain Checkpoint -- Peashooter and Doom-shroom are taking turns on duty!

All rights reserved by the author. Cheers []~(￣▽￣)~*

--Also, I used to be a Main God, this isn't just random writing~, haha.

----Divider of the Main Text----

For humans, there is often a question with a somewhat indistinct boundary: what is a dream, and what is reality?

A dream is a somewhat false mental activity, an erratic and shifting train of thought, the construction and intersection of neural networks, and the specks of moonlight in the subconscious and emotions casting shallow floating lights upon the surface of sleep... alongside deep currents surging below.

Dreams do not care for logic.

Even though reality often surpasses this.

Yet equally, very few people fail to distinguish between dreams and reality when they are awake.

Only, at this very moment, Li Yun was indeed somewhat unsure whether he was truly awake, or... in the realm of dreams?

Clouds birthed and perished, myriad phenomena drifted and sank.

A single, lonely, bright moon shone clearly across the mortal world, and only a hazy figure stepped upon the halo of light, letting the boundless, vast sea of clouds flow past like a rising tide, between the rolling rivers and seas, walking forward step by step to survey all before him.

The distant sky and lonely moon, flying clouds and frosty mist.

Almost instinctively, accompanied by a sense of desolate coldness that welled up from the depths of his heart amid the endless sea of clouds, someone gazed alone upon that vast, jade-like moon hanging high in the nine heavens. The cloud waves rolled, heaven and earth were boundless, and there was even a desolate feeling that the world was so vast, yet only a single figure remained.

The moonlight was beautiful, grand yet desolate and mournful, almost enough to bring one to tears.

Yet, accompanied by a deep, lingering melancholy tinged with a hint of the "abnormal" rising in his heart, Li Yun knew very well that, theoretically speaking, he ought not to be having such a dream.

After all, lacking relevant memories and impressions, and faced with scenery he had never personally experienced, the human subconscious ought not to form such meticulous and detailed imagery.

According to his elective courses in college, he knew very well that the so-called essence of dream was usually just a "splicing" together of random elements in a divergent thinking process, the fuzzy associative mapping of the brain under incompletely functioning conditions.

Just as in everyone's dream, there might be countless fragments vanishing like fireworks in a lifetime.

Yet few people could simultaneously truly notice--those fleeting fireworks... could never clearly show every speck of brilliant light at the moment of their blooming.

The reason was also very simple, because of the hazy disturbances existing within the subconsciousness of a human's sleeping state; whether it was that limited computational power or the lack of "rendering materials," it was usually not enough to manifest so many details.

How could a person walk among the clouds?

Yet a cool chill came from his temples, like ice silk slithering past, accompanied by a faint stinging sensation, so real.

Reason had already perceived the abnormality, but amid the casual turning of his thoughts, accompanied by a certain imperceptible indifference, it was as if his consciousness quietly split right then, revealing another unknown consideration from within.

It straightway caused one to quietly ignore all of this.

Just like the fact that many people perceive when they are dreaming--everything in a dream that seemed abnormal could be considered reasonable to the dreamer.

The moon set through the ages, the sea of clouds chased and rolled, like waves and tides, concealing the shadow within.

As if completely forgetting the passage of time, and even spatial cognition had become ambiguous, Li Yun could not even feel the slightest bit of fatigue, and no one knew how long he had been walking down this endless path beneath his feet.

In the end, he simply moved his feet uncomprehendingly and senselessly, as if this body no longer belonged to him, stepping out footprint after footprint on the seemingly endless road.

The surrounding scenery solidified into a blur of moonlight, with only the winding path in the clouds leading forward beneath his feet remaining clear, but where on earth did it lead?

No one knew, and even he himself had long since stopped pondering this question.

The sea of clouds gathering, dispersing, flowing, and churning around him rolled and chased, like the eternal tides upon the sea, rising and falling in cycles within this void and boundless expanse.

Only that lonely, hanging, bright moonlight remained constant, its cold flying light piercing the mist and shining upon this lost, solitary shadow.

...Until the thickest part of the mist, a glossy jade color suddenly emerged, step after step, silently extending into unknown depths.

With a sense of uncomprehending unawareness, Li Yun simply stepped upon it on instinct.

He climbed up the steps.

Stepping across them one by one, the jade-carved heavenly stairs felt slightly cool to the touch, yet without a shred of chill, as though some long-dormant desolation were silently spreading beneath his feet.

Hundreds of stairs appeared and disappeared in the cloud mist, until at the end--

An mottled stone platform stood silently, bearing a few traces of being hacked by knives and axes. The gray-dark platform surface was clearly polished exceptionally smooth, save for a blurry phantom, difficult to see clearly, sitting cross-legged atop it. Its outline was faint, and it looked rather like the figure of a person facing away.

"Oh, you've come."

It truly was a figure, offering a casual greeting. Its tone carried a sense of familiarity, as if encountering an old friend, yet it did not turn its head back, simply sitting quietly there while its form flickered in and out of view amidst the flowing clouds.

Li Yun started slightly, and in a daze, the surging sea of clouds around him quietly receded a bit, his originally hazy thoughts also growing clear accordingly.

"Don't be nervous, this really is just a dream," the other party chuckled, his tone as casual as idle chatter. "Come over and sit."

For some reason, the other party's voice... sounded somewhat familiar?

Before he had time to think deeply, and even surprisingly without any skeptical doubts about this bizarre hospitality, Li Yun simply walked forward step by step.

Yet strangely, clearly his feet had drawn much closer, but whether due to a slight dazed illusion of Li Yun's, the place where this figure—seemingly close at hand—sat seemed to forever maintain an uncrossable distance from him.

It was clearly close enough to touch, yet it felt as far away as the ends of the earth--so far away that it seemed separated by the thickness of an entire world.

...So far away it was hard to imagine.

This illusion lasted for only a fleeting instant.

Until he walked close to the edge of the stone platform, Li Yun saw clearly that before this solitary figure like a wandering ghost was a tranquil expanse of clear waves, and where water met sky, the bright moon was reflected within, dyeing the entire surface of the water into a silvery-white mirror.

The other party had already cast a line, sitting peacefully and alone, letting clouds and mists hang down while the white moon covered the sea.

That poise was calm almost to the point of transcendence.

"Does Your Excellency say this is a dream?" Sitting down at the edge of the stone platform and maintaining a well-measured distance from the other party, Li Yun stared flatly at that fishing line sinking into the water, yet his tone carried a hint of inquiry. "I have certainly never had such a clear dream."

Having almost never fished before, for some reason, at this moment he suddenly felt an inexplicable itch in his hands.

"In a dream one does not know one is a guest... Of course this is a dream."

As if sensing the guest's gaze, the phantom gently tapped the plain, unadorned fishing rod at his side—as crude and simple as the fresh bamboo joints children would cut down when young, crafted with painstaking effort—letting the mirror-like surface of the water ripple with points of light in response, circle after circle, lingering long without fading.

...The only difference is, I fear it is not that you dreamed of someone, but that you were dreamed.

"I was dreamed? That phrasing sounds really rather strange..." Li Yun paused slightly, his eyes behind his lenses narrowing slightly. "Then, do we know each other?"

"We do, yet we do not."

An ambiguous and strange answer.

Yet for some reason, even though he was facing a strange "figure" of unknown background, he anomalously felt not the slightest awkwardness; Li Yun merely shook his head calmly.

"Fine, let's just say I am dreaming. Then, what kind of place is this?"

"Here of course is also a dream; speaking of it... it is nothing more than a somewhat 'special' dream."

Clearly realizing Li Yun's doubt.

The phantom still merely waved his hand lightly, the fishing rod trembling softly in response, the bamboo joint emitting a delicate crisp sound, the moonlight shattering into ten thousand silver scales across the water, ripples spreading out in layers, reflecting the moss on the edge of the stone platform as if it were glowing faintly.

...When one dreams, one does not know it is a dream, and only after waking does one know it is a dream.

Pedantically quoting classics and displaying his learning, gazing at those marks on the water that lingered long after spreading, the fisherman seemed to faintly reveal a touch of helplessness.

"To put it simply, this place was originally not your dream, nor naturally will it be my dream. Rather, we are both merely bits of traced evidence 'happening' to be dreamed. Well... to put it more vividly, it is probably just like those projections that appear on a cinema screen."

"If you must say so, this place was originally a dream cast aside by a great figure of the past, just like Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly so vividly; within the dream there are thousands of worlds arising and perishing without knowing it, with no distinction between true and false, and once abruptly awakened, the dream is exhausted."

That voice suddenly grew somewhat solemn and distant, as if coming from the bottom of the water, distantly chanting a passage of scripture—

"Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness, emptiness does not differ from form. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Perception, conception, volition, and consciousness are also like this."

Li Yun could even faintly sense that trace of a sigh from the other party.

"All conditioned things are impermanent, all characteristics are non-characteristics, conditions arise and conditions perish, beyond emptiness and form."

"Even if it is merely a rootless water and a source-less dream that has lost its original appearance, for a personage who has verified the Great Dao in such a manner, the myriad worlds, inverted dreams and thoughts, are nothing more than a single thought, the various forms of phenomena seen with a single glance, mere illusions of dreams and bubbles."

The lingering sound echoed among the clouds and mists for a long time.

"Therefore, even though this place is merely a strand of lingering old dream, a wisp of thought, it no longer matters whether it is 'true or false'."

"For such a mighty figure, this naturally is nothing more than a dream illusion that can be discarded at will, arising in accordance with conditions and perishing because of conditions..."

The phantom gently tapped the stone platform, and the ancient rock emitted a dull echo in response. "Yet for you and me, it is the truly real Mortal World."

"That is why I said, it is not that you dreamed of someone, but that you were dreamed... It is 'it' that accidentally dreamed of you, which is why you are in this place."

"Without cause or reason, it can also be a kind of 'affinity'. The so-called law of affinity is such a wondrous thing."

The other party's tone sounded as if truly filled with a bit of emotional sighs.

...Affinity, you say? It sounds really rather profound in flavor, but unfortunately I am a mortal of flesh and blood, and probably unable to quite comprehend these things...

Subconsciously adjusting his glasses, after a brief contemplation, Li Yun's expression remained calm, seemingly unmoved. "Then may I ask, to be 'dreamed' by such a dream, for me personally, what does it specifically mean?"

"What does it mean? That is a good question. Although on this point, I actually cannot be too certain either."

Hearing this, the phantom's voice suddenly carried a trace of a smile.

"Do you know what it is that can determine the fundamentals of a dream?"

"It has nothing to do with anything else, it is merely that bit of insignificant 'mind'."

As the words fell, the tip of the bamboo rod in the water suddenly lit up with a spark-like glow, startling a few wisps of lingering, wandering cloud vapor.

At the tip of the long rod, that tiny "light bait" flickered on and off, casting unpredictable light and shadow upon the water, barely illuminating the unfathomable depths of the lake before them, where faint glimpses revealed countless floating specks of light rising and falling.

"It is not the wind moving, nor is it the banner moving; it is the mind that moves. When the mind moves, a single thought gives rise to thousands of worlds; wherever this mind resides, it is the origin of the turning of all phenomena and all creation and destruction."

"Just like this reflection in the water, since it has dreamed of you, you naturally have likewise dreamed of it and touched it."

Looking down from the stone platform into the water, clearly that speck of halo was facing the moonlight, already illuminating the rippling light across the lake, yet Li Yun did not see the phantom's face as expected; what remained was only that swaying, shimmering light beneath the water, shallowly rippling.

A patch of water surface where no reflection could be seen.

"Even if Your Excellency says so, where in this water is there a reflection?"

Raising his head to look back, he asked calmly in return.

"No... actually, there is one."

An equally calm tone seamlessly took over the conversation, gently refuting the guest's question.

Until this moment, the hazy, pale shadow finally turned his head, accompanied in that process by a movement both slow and fast, like dusting away ash from paper, bit by bit outlining the vivid and clear true form of the fisherman.

Uncannily familiar.

"Oh, so that's how it is."

Li Yun clearly heard himself emit a low sigh, one that felt too heavy to breathe through.

Within just a few breaths, the outline in the mist no longer had any illusions shielding it.

The person before him right now had wide sleeves hanging low, hair like a waterfall cascading beneath a star crown, and a pure, handsome bearing. As his robes shifted, faint flowing patterns were visible, and even his flesh gleamed with a translucent, luminous glow—not pale, but rather possessing the moist luster of jade, as if a faint moonlight flowed across his skin.

Yet if one stripped away all these vastly different, minute details, viewed ordinarily, that was indeed a face with a seven or eight-tenths likeness to the one hidden behind a pair of spectacles.

Except that one face wore glasses, the lenses still condensing a few fine droplets of water; while the other wore a Daoist crown, faintly chanted an obeisance, and held a greeting hand seal like embracing the Taiji, smooth and flowing—

"Immeasurable Heavenly Honored One."

Hearing those words, the guest blinked hard, and the corner of his brow finally couldn't help twitching.

Two faces, similar yet distant, now gazed at each other in silence. Even though they differed in every detail and demeanor...

They somehow gave a person the bizarre sensation of looking into a mirror.

That was "himself."

A "himself" that was not himself.

A lingering shadow with neither origin nor destination.

When he saw that face clearly, almost without warning and without reason, Li Yun "comprehended" this answer.

"How truly marvelous... I suppose the next part won't be some cliché urban legend plot like a 'doppelgänger,' or 'the person in the mirror suddenly wants to take my place while I look at him with pity and say, brother, don't strain yourself, if working is too tiring the two of us can take turns'?"

They stared at each other for a long time.

He blinked, maintaining a calm expression, even proactively telling a cold joke.

"Naturally not."

Even though that Daoist was surrounded by an indescribable clarity and harmony of demeanor, he still couldn't help shaking his head at this, amused to the point of speechlessness.

The large pearl tassels hanging from the star crown collided to produce a clear, crisp sound, like mountain springs striking stone.

"You should also be able to sense the truth. I am merely a reflection in this dream, arising from causal conditions, manifesting with conditions, and perishing with them, which is why I wait for you here."

It seemed indeed to be the case...

It was no empty talk. As the "person within the dream" was pointed out a bit, it was like poking through a thin layer of window paper. Right now, accompanied by a subtle sense of awakening, many hard-to-articulate understandings were "mysteriously" floating up into Li Yun's thoughts, just like old news being quietly recalled.

Yet feeling the subtle distinction in the other's speech that was clearly both like and unlike his own, he still said nothing more.

He knew he perhaps ought to be astonished, yet at the same time, he didn't seem all that astonished.

The other party also didn't seem to care about these things.

"The so-called dreamer is born of the mind, and shall also exhaust with the departure of the mind."

"In the past, this dream was abandoned by a single thought, having no initial intent, so naturally it never 'existed' at all. Amidst the dim obscurity, however, because it dreamed of another 'heart,' it stirred, able to manifest the cause of its existence in the world, and thus materialized within this heart."

"To that unspeakable one, this dream has already become 'nothing,' with no further ties, touching no karma. To you, this dream is 'something'; move with one heart, and you can grasp its center."

"Now, it has obtained that bit of 'heart,' and is no longer its past appearance, but your own dream."

"It's simply that you happened to pick a good dream and landed a huge bargain."

Clearly possessing an untrammeled and lofty demeanor, yet only when the young Daoist before him brought up the notion of "landing a bargain" did the faint, seemingly helpless yet slightly mischievous smile that flashed across the corners of his mouth appear far more vivid than the detached, unactive aura he had when chanting scriptures earlier.

Li Yun saw it clearly.

The eyes behind the lenses narrowed slightly, but after thinking it over briefly, he simply executed a practiced little bear shrug—

"You might as well explain things more clearly."

"It seems you really have returned all your middle-school Chinese proficiency to your teachers... Very well, let me put it this way: as you've walked on the road for so long, are you hungry?"

"...Now that you mention it, it does feel like a little bit."

He hadn't felt it before, but until this illusory Daoist across from him casually brought it up just now, Li Yun suddenly realized that he seemed to have vaguely walked an unknown length of long road, and about now, he ought to be hungry.

The thought had just arisen when, naturally and spontaneously, a distinct sensation of "hunger" abruptly surged from his belly.

A bit of hollow, cramping pain quickly awakened alongside the clear and definite signal of "hunger," like long-dormant drums and bells being struck all at once, occupying every corner of his nerves and every inch of perception like a wildfire.

His posture softened, and he couldn't help clutching his abdomen.

Hunger had already begun squeezing his thoughts, causing him to involuntarily arch his back, feeling only a long-lost, near-primitive, and intense craving spreading through his blood vessels to his limbs and bones.

Before he even had time to think too much, at this moment, when that uncontrollable desire for food briefly punched through the first line of defense of human rationality—

Almost like a conditioned reflex, Li Yun merely instinctively recalled a bowl of steaming cheap fresh noodles, topped with plenty of red chili oil and chopped scallions, from a mobile stall downstairs at his company during those past mid-night overtimes.

When one's belly was this empty, no one could deny that the scent emitted when lye-water noodles were heated in a large pot, the emerald-green scallions floating on the soup's surface, two or three thin-as-cicada-wings slices of braised pork... were all so nostalgic and heart-stirring, seeming right before his eyes.

No, it wasn't an illusion; that smell...

Until a genuine, familiar oily fragrance drifted into his nose, Li Yun finally snapped back to his senses—

Looking between the two of them, right there on the stone table before his eyes was a bowl of unusually familiar noodles that had appeared out of nowhere, complete with light brown broth, scallions, chili oil, and seasonings.

Feeling the truly moist sensation of the steaming heat rising from the noodles—so utterly different from the clouds and mist—blasting against his face...

His Adam's apple moved uncontrollably.

Yet even while ravenously hungry, with a strong urge to dig in and devour them with ravenous instinct, he remained silent for a long time, instead frowning.

"Not going to taste it?" The Daoist smiled lightly, his tone sounding very much like he was teasing an old friend, his finger tapping lightly on the edge of the bowl, causing the imitation-porcelain material to emit a familiar crisp sound.

Not knowing where he had fished out a pair of disposable bamboo chopsticks, the other handed them over as well. "Leave it any longer, and the noodles will get soggy."

How subtle.

Accepting them instinctively, Li Yun skillfully broke apart that pair of bamboo chopsticks; between his fingers, even the prickly, coarse texture of the fast-growing wood splinters felt terrifyingly real.

Yet he still didn't rush to use his chopsticks, merely pausing thoughtfully. "What is this supposed to be? Dreams can manifest anything?"

"You could say that, but I prefer to call it: One Thought Gives Birth to All Things."

"A great dream is ultimately forged solely by the mind. Once you have become that bit of 'intent' of this dream, grasping the pivot of motion and stillness, you can naturally move its form at will and transform phenomena."

"Your state of mind can already influence the dream itself."

"Just as you felt a vague incomprehension in your heart, being a bystander lost in the fog, seeking the path as you came, and thus another 'you' appeared by coincidence to resolve your doubts here; you thought you ought to be hungry, so you truly felt empty within your body and consumed by the fire of hunger; your state of mind changed, feeling that there ought to be this bowl of noodles here, and so it truly is here."

The Daoist spread his hands with equal familiarity.

"These things you see and hear are essentially just a form manifested under the limits of your own knowledge, a few traces vaguely reflected in your subconscious. It's a mere triviality, so there's no need to dwell on it too much."

"Yet while this dream has lost its origin, severed its karma, and no longer retains its old appearance, its essence remains. Its status is lofty, quite unlike the mundane. A single mind observing, thoughts engendering worlds—neither truly real nor completely false, it is simply thus."

"A touch of karmic affinity is not easily won; you must grasp it well."

These few succinct sentences were exceptionally earnest, and the expression on that face turned solemn as well.

Looking at this young outline with a similar visage, Li Yun thought for a long moment before nodding calmly.

"...I understand a bit now."

There was no motion to speak of, yet the untouched bowl of fresh noodles placed before him quietly vanished into thin air, and along with it went that deep sensation of thirst and hunger.

Since it was a dream, naturally none of it was real; what sense was there in feeling hungry?

It was merely an illusion.

Yet for some reason, upon hearing Li Yun's reply and glancing at the lingering dampness at the bottom of the spot where the now-vanished noodle bowl had previously rested on the stone table's surface, the person opposite him instead shook his head and sighed.

"It seems it isn't so easily said."

The young Daoist simply turned back, one hand reaching out to grasp the verdant bamboo pole before him—

"I know you still harbor doubts. To you, everything seen in a dream can be false; this is a deeply ingrained common sense within cognition, much like the thin rope that holds an elephant. Therefore, many things are useless to speak of right now; only by experiencing it yourself will you believe."

"...After all, it is not easy to deceive others, and deceiving oneself is even harder."

That fresh, jade-green bamboo had originally been roughly fashioned into the shape of a long pole in its entirety, save for a single remaining branch of green leaves. Now plucked casually from the pole by the Daoist, he leaned over to rinse it in the lake, and its appearance instantly changed.

"You feel dreams are unreal... yet people's comings and goings, life and death, obscurity and clarity, ultimately scattering into nothingness—how is that not a great dream itself?"

He sighed with a trace of regret and desolation.

Along with the action of snapping off that bamboo branch, within just a few breaths, as if something had been drawn out of him, his figure suddenly revealed a degree of faint haziness once again, and even his appearance, robes, and crown seemed to gradually begin fading in their sense of reality.

—The young Daoist before his eyes was turning back into an illusory shadow, inch by inch.

Li Yun realized this almost immediately.

Yet the nameless Daoist by the edge of the platform said no more, simply flicking away the water droplets on the bamboo and casually tossing the washed item in his palm to the person beside him.

Judging by his posture, it carried a distinct air of utter indifference, discarding it like worn-out shoes.

"What is this?"

His hand grew heavy as he instinctively caught the thrown object, and Li Yun blinked.

It was an archaic, palm-sized ancient mirror, possessing the texture of green jade. It felt warm and smooth to the touch, yet seemed both jade and not jade; only its mirror light lacked brilliance, as if caked in dust for a long time.

"This is the 'dream' you see."

Like ink spreading drop by drop on rice paper, the shadow, growing ever dimmer, lowered its head to gaze at the lake surface with utter nonchalance.

"You feel a dream is a touch of illusion, various reflections—like flowers in a mirror, the moon in the water. Therefore, the 'dream' you see right now naturally ought to be a mirror."

"Saying too much is always useless. Better to let you look and see for yourself."

Waving a hand, the dim figure by the stone table picked up the fresh green bamboo pole once more, letting the pole's body cast a few faint, glimmering traces in the moonlight.

"Time to haul in the line..." He suddenly smiled. "No matter what, at least this time, I didn't get skunked, did I?"

Beneath the flat smile, that painfully familiar yet strange face was losing its shape, leaving only his gaze still bright, brimming with an unspeakable untrammeled freedom, spirit... and vicissitudes.

Only the long pole whipped high up, abruptly bending in that hand into the shape of a near-full moon, the bamboo joints emitting a groaning sound of unbearable strain.

The speck of luminous bait beneath the water was pulled upward inch by inch, visible to the naked eye, dragging a trail of sparkling tails behind it, akin to some colossal entity being distantly reeled in from the depths of the water, denied its freedom.

As the currents of clouds across the lake surface violently churned along with it, the mist roiled like a dragon, and the stone table beneath his feet faintly began to produce a sense of tremor.

"What is th—"

Before the words finished, Li Yun's question was overwhelmed by a surging rush of radiance.

As the tip of the pole lifted high, the silver plate in the sky shattered like a bubble in the blink of an eye, and taking its place was a boundless halo of light bursting forth from beneath the water!

Faint moonlight suddenly poured down like spilled mercury, casting a vast and brilliant radiance!

Out in the middle of the great lake, a bright moon rose from the water!

...Along with the simple fishing rod, it smoothly hooked an entire long lake! And even a boundless ocean!

In an instant, the entire world seemed pulled by that soaring moonlight, as hundreds of millions of water waves roared upward and hung suspended in the vast sky, each and every stream vaguely reflecting a different brilliant lunar phase within it!

Waxing and waning, dark and bright, dim and clear.

As the boundary between heaven and water quietly blurred, with moonlight shining bright and ripples dim, a person seemed to stand between a mirror surface spanning the world, with an inverted river of stars beneath his feet and a boundless, sinking sea above his head.

For a moment, it was impossible to tell where the sky was, where the moon was, or where the water was, with only the surging billows before his eyes, the vast sea inverted, and the mirror-like heavens floating in the mortal world!

--No, the moonlight previously suspended in the sky was the reflection, and conversely, the one fished out of the lake... was the true bright moon!

He suddenly realized that truth.

The sleeves brimming with starlight between the Milky Way, the chasing jade and flying light giving birth to a white night!

This guest who had yet to speak further only had time for one final glance upward...

That boundless vast moon in the heavenly light... was soaring straight up into the void!

In the dimly lit room, the faint sound of breathing suddenly choked off.

Suddenly sitting straight up, the figure panted hurriedly, even instinctively still looking around in a daze.

Yet in the gloom, there was only the faded and cracked ceiling, the outline of the unlit lightbulb, and a few patches of old dust-covered spiderwebs clinging to the corners, looming faintly in the weak light as they innocently and silently stared back at him.

A long exhale sounded exceptionally clear in the silence.

After a long while, Li Yun finally recovered his wits with a dry laugh, lying quietly back down and allowing the back of his head to sink once more snugly into the indentation of the pillow.

He should hurry up and rest; if the sales department's contract wasn't finished tomorrow, he would have to keep working overtime.

As always, it was a tired thought no different from many nights in the past.

Yet until the very moment he lay down, his skin finally sluggishly sensed the subtle temperature difference present between his fingers.

An object that still carried a hint of coolness to the touch.

Shouldn't his phone be charging on the table?

His thoughts still filled with a hazy fog, Li Yun simply grasped that item by his hand by instinct, brought it before his eyes, and glanced at it vaguely.

An involuntary shudder caused his entire body to practically freeze.

...That was a somewhat familiar, ancient little mirror the color of azure sky.