The Boss Coal and Hanran had not returned, which made everyone very worried, but they were helpless. It was already dark, and the jungle at night was extremely dangerous. If they encountered savages, it would almost be suicide.
Qingmu said to Su Huilan, "May I borrow your dream for a moment?"
"What?" Su Huilan was taken aback. "How do I borrow a dream?"
Qingmu said, "You know I don't dream..."
Su Huilan understood. "You want to come into my dream?"
Qingmu nodded. "My consciousness and the Boss Coal's consciousness can sense each other, but at least one of us must be in the dream."
Su Huilan was very curious about this and laughed, "Okay, then hypnotize me."
Qingmu was a little embarrassed. "Um... that's not a good idea! It's better if you hypnotize yourself."
Most hypnotists have studied self-hypnosis, but very few can actually induce a dream state in themselves. Of course, this wouldn't be difficult for a truly Awakened, but Su Huilan always felt something was off.
The subconscious world is a Minecraft. It has no pretense and no deception, so Awakened are usually very careful to protect their subconscious. Entering the dream of an Awakened is a highly taboo thing.
Su Huilan didn't have anything she wanted to hide from Qingmu. It was just that in front of a man, she hypnotized herself, entered her subconscious world, and waited for that man to come into her dream. It was as shameful as lying naked in bed, waiting for someone to crawl in.
But she also understood that, from Qingmu's perspective, one Awakened being hypnotizing Awakened was like rape. Thinking of this, Su Huilan suddenly remembered that time in the dimly lit Ruhua Bar when she tried to hypnotize him, but failed.
Thinking about it this way, her face inexplicably felt a little hot, but fortunately the cave was dimly lit, and even with a fire burning, the change in her expression was not noticeable.
Once I enter the dream, I absolutely mustn't think about these things anymore! Su Huilan secretly warned herself. These thoughts can't be hidden in the subconscious world. If I think about them, they will bring up memories in sync, and I don't know what kind of images they will piece together!
Qingmu had no idea that in just a few words, Su Huilan had already thought of so much and was eagerly waiting for her response.
Su Huilan knew she couldn't avoid it, so she could only pray that her initial dream wouldn't be too unpleasant. No matter how powerful an Awakened is or how profound their lucid dreaming abilities are, the scene when you first enter a dream is uncontrollable. Even if she could wake up immediately within 0.01 seconds and change her dream, that 0.01 seconds is still uncontrollable.
She wasn't sure what she would dream about; maybe it would be something she'd been thinking about all day, or maybe it would be something embarrassing from her childhood—who knows?
She called this 0.01 second "Chaos Time," and the stronger the Awakened's abilities, the shorter this Chaos Time. She wondered if anyone could completely escape Chaos Time, such as a super Awakened like Master Nanke —would the boundary between wakefulness and dream simply not exist?
0.01 seconds is very short, but it's enough for a dream. The key is the timing of Qingmu's entrance.
She took a deep breath and said, "Okay, but after I hypnotize myself, you have to count to three before you come in."
Qingmu said, "Okay."
Su Huilan closed her eyes, and despite her panic, she quickly managed to hypnotize herself.
It was a dimly lit bar. She sat in the corner, watching the man walk towards her. His hair was messy, as if he had just gotten up. He wore an old trench coat, his hands in his pockets, looking nonchalant and indifferent. The cigarette dangled from his lips, half-smoked and about to fall, but it just wouldn't.
"Miss, what can I do for you?" he said.
"You live a life of quiet seclusion in the city, yet you can't hide your scent. Do you feel like a waitress?" she laughed.
This was the initial dream, Su Huilan's subconscious quickly came to its senses. She knew she should change the scene immediately; the real Qingmu would enter after counting to three.
However, the feeling of this dream made her feel very comfortable. The air in the bar, which had just closed, still smelled of alcohol, but there was no noise. It was raining outside, and the raindrops were tapping on the windowpane.
She loved the relaxed vibe, especially the languid man in front of her; he and the environment were a perfect match.
Ah, I'm a little reluctant to leave this dream! She was suddenly surprised by this thought. Why?
The man walked over, grabbed her, and looked down at her face, saying, "Miss, what do you want?"
Half a cigarette ash was hovering precariously above her nose.
She giggled, remembering what he was about to say—"Miss, one hundred and fifty!"
That was the price of the cocktail she drank, but she misunderstood at the time, thinking he wanted to have a one-night stand with her.
She tried to hypnotize him, but failed. She felt like a failure at the time, and this sense of frustration tormented her for a long time, until much later when she learned that he was a dreamless person.
Although she was certain she had the wrong person, she remembered him from then on. She remembered his messy hair, his old trench coat, his flip-flops, and his languid tone.
Every time she thinks of a man with a woman as beautiful as her in his arms, saying, "Miss, one hundred and fifty?", she can't help but laugh. The stark contrast is so endearing; what kind of person is he?!
"Miss, what do you want to do?" the man asked again, flicking the ash from his cigarette but not letting it fall.
The rain was still falling outside the window, and the dim yellow streetlights shone through the rain curtain onto the window, reflecting off the dark red lights in the bar, making both of their faces look slightly flushed.
Time ticks by, but this is a dream. In dreams, space is folded, and time is spiraled. The eternal stillness in a dream is but a fleeting moment in reality. The only linear connection between them in terms of time is the speed at which bioelectricity is transmitted in the brain's nerves, which is the amount of real time consumed by the subconscious to retrieve memories.
Ah, I'll count to three, and the real him will be coming in. I can't let him see this! It would be so embarrassing if he saw it!
He'll be in three seconds, maybe two. I'll wait just one more second. After that, I'll change my dream. Now, let me hear him say "Miss, one hundred and fifty" again!
That's what she was thinking.
Then she heard him say:
"Miss, I've already counted to three."
He bent over, supporting her leaning body, his face close to hers, his expression serious, the half-smoked cigarette ash still teetering on the verge of falling.