Chapter 125: Life is But a Dream
After the first day, the Daoist finished his lecture on the Dao Scripture.
“Everyone, today’s lecture is over. Have any of you gained any insights? Step forward and share them with me.”
The Daoist looked at the crowd with a smile.
Soon, people began to stand up and approach the Daoist, offering their interpretations of the scripture. The hall became filled with a cacophony of voices, like a bustling marketplace.
The Daoist, however, remained unfazed by the noise, his smile unwavering, as if he were responding to each person individually.
Gradually, those who had answered incorrectly returned to their seats, their heads lowered in disappointment, and the crowd thinned.
Qingying’s gaze remained fixed on her brother, Qingchen, who hadn’t moved from his spot. He sat there cross-legged, his brow furrowed in thought.
Soon, only a handful of people remained on the platform.
Qingying turned to Chen Yin and asked, “Do you know the answer?”
As she spoke, the Daoist’s gaze seemed to fall upon Chen Yin.
Chen Yin simply lowered his head and, after a long silence, bowed slightly.
“…I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Very well.” The Daoist nodded, then turned and flew away on his crane.
Qingchen, still sitting cross-legged, seemed to have given up as well. He let out a sigh, stood up, and stretched.
“Forget it. I’ll think about it again tomorrow.”
He walked towards the cave dwellings on the mountain.
Qingying looked at Chen Yin anxiously. He nodded calmly. “Follow him.”
They followed Qingchen towards the other side of the mountain.
Qingying’s eyes widened in surprise as they entered the cave dwellings.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary immortal’s cave, not large enough to accommodate many people.
But inside, it was like a different world altogether.
A vast and endless square stretched before them, lined with rows of identical houses.
Qingying noticed that the people from the platform had all entered the houses. It seemed this was where the cultivators stayed while comprehending the Dao.
As Qingying looked around curiously, Qingchen suddenly bowed deeply before him.
“Qingchen, disciple of the Mist Spirit Sect, the five hundred and sixty-ninth cultivator to enter Ephemeral Mountain seeking enlightenment.”
“Greetings, newcomer.”
With that, he walked towards his house.
Qingying stared at his retreating figure for a long time, then turned to Chen Yin. “What’s going on?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
Chen Yin looked ahead calmly. “All these people are cultivators who have come to this place throughout the ages.”
“Once you enter, everything about you is recorded as an illusion. You can see those who came before you, and your image will be seen by those who come after you.”
…It was as if countless cultivators, transcending the limitations of time, were all gathered here, seeking enlightenment together.
“Your brother was the five hundred and sixty-ninth.” He said seriously. “We are the five hundred and seventieth and five hundred and seventy-first.”
Qingying was silent for a long time, then asked with a bitter smile:
“So… I can’t actually meet A’Chen, can I?”
“You can see what your brother was like here through these illusions.”
Chen Yin didn’t answer her question directly. He simply turned his head. “Just watch, and you’ll understand.”
Qingying didn’t say anything more and quietly followed her brother.
Qingchen reached his house, bowed politely towards his neighbor, and then went inside.
Qingying tried to follow him, but an invisible barrier blocked her path.
“Once a house recognizes its owner, only the owner can enter.”
Chen Yin walked towards the house next to Qingchen’s. “You’ll be staying here.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be next door.”
Qingying hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.
After claiming her house, Qingying entered and found it to be more spacious than she had expected. It was furnished with antique furniture, tea sets, kitchen utensils, a bed, pillows, everything.
And these items seemed to replenish themselves. Whether it was food or furniture, once consumed or damaged, a new, pristine replacement would appear in its place.
There was nothing to worry about, only the pursuit of enlightenment.
Lying on the bed, Qingying’s mind raced, everything about this place feeling strange and unsettling.
“System,” she couldn’t help but ask, “what is this place?”
“I’m also curious.”
The System also sounded puzzled. “It seems like a place created by a powerful human cultivator to select and train talented individuals, passing down their legacy.”
“But… something feels off.”
Indeed.
Qingying also felt something was wrong, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
But seeing her brother, Qingchen, had fulfilled a long-held desire.
Unable to sleep, Qingying left her house, intending to take a walk.
As soon as she stepped out, she saw Chen Yin standing motionless before a nearby house, his gaze fixed on it, lost in thought.
“What are you looking at?” Qingying asked curiously, walking up beside him.
Chen Yin’s gaze was distant and calm as he pointed at the house. “That house belongs to a pair of Daoist companions.”
“They were both good people. Even though they knew they were just illusions, they still left behind records for those who came after them, teaching them how to cook delicious meals and talking about how much they missed their child waiting for them at home.”
He then pointed to another house. “That one belonged to a young girl. She was only fourteen when she entered this place, clearly a prodigy of her time.”
“But she wasn’t arrogant at all. She introduced herself to newcomers with a gentle smile, her voice soft and sweet. She seemed like a shy little girl.”
Qingying didn’t understand why Chen Yin was suddenly telling her about these people, so she just listened quietly.
“…And then there’s your brother.”
Chen Yin said softly, “I remember him well. Not just because he was the one who entered before me.”
“But also because he was so polite and kind to everyone. He would share his daily experiences with newcomers before returning to his house, and he would always bow respectfully when passing by the dwellings of his seniors.”
…Even though he knew they were just illusions.
Those people couldn’t see him, and he had no obligation to help or guide those who came after him.
But he did it anyway.
Every time Chen Yin passed by his house, he would see him standing there, a pure and innocent smile on his youthful face, speaking earnestly to the empty air:
…Greetings, newcomer. These are my insights from today. They might not be helpful to you, but I offer them as a token of goodwill.
Hearing Chen Yin’s words, Qingying felt a pang of sadness and lowered her eyes.
“A’Chen… he was always such a kind and gentle soul.”
She bit her lip. “He suffered a lot because of his kind nature. But he couldn’t change.”
Always seeing the best in people, always treating everyone with kindness and compassion. She didn’t understand how someone like him could have been chosen by the secret division.
“There are over five hundred people here.”
Chen Yin said slowly, “There’s no one else like your brother.”
Qingying looked away, her eyes distant, and asked, “Did A’Chen… ever leave this place?”
“If he had, you wouldn’t be here looking for him.”
Seeing Chen Yin’s expression, Qingying realized she had asked a stupid question. She chuckled wryly.
“…You mean, A’Chen is trapped here forever?”
To her surprise, Chen Yin shook his head. “He wasn’t trapped here for long.”
“Only two months.”
Qingying was puzzled.
“Don’t ask me. Seeing is believing.”
Chen Yin turned and walked towards his own house. Before entering, he said, “You can see for yourself what happened to your brother.”
“I’m just here to guide you.”
Seeing his reluctance to speak, Qingying’s curiosity grew.
“System, what’s with this Chen Yin?”
“How would I know? Probably just having a late-night emo moment.”
Back in his house, Chen Yin sat at the table, poured himself a cup of tea, and sipped it slowly.
…In his previous life, when he was trapped here, drinking tea had been his favorite pastime.
He didn’t know what kind of tea it was, but even at the Mist Spirit Sect, he had never tasted anything so delicious.
Every day, he would follow the same routine as the other five hundred cultivators: wake up early, have a simple breakfast, meditate for a while, then go to the platform to listen to the Daoist’s lecture.
He would return to his house in the evening, have dinner, and then go to sleep.
When he felt restless, he would go outside and observe the illusions of those who had come before him.
The Daoist couple would bring their food outside and share their cooking secrets while enjoying their meal.
The talented young girl would recite poetry to herself.
There was also a martial monk practicing his skills, an old man playing chess against himself, a painter capturing the beauty of the mountains and rivers, and a sinister and reclusive dwarf…
Chen Yin enjoyed watching them. It was much more interesting than listening to the incomprehensible Dao Scripture.
In his previous life, he had spent countless hours observing their lives, their actions, their habits. Although they had never truly met, he felt like he knew each of them like old friends.
And Qingchen.
He would also come outside occasionally and share his experiences with the empty air.
Chen Yin enjoyed listening to this young boy’s stories. He was always so polite, bowing respectfully before speaking.
“Greetings, newcomer. If you can see me…”
His smile was as pure and innocent as a clear lake, filled with youthful energy and a strange infectious optimism.
It had even influenced Chen Yin, who had started greeting him back politely, as if he were a real person.
“Greetings, Fellow Daoist Qingchen.”
“I am Chen Yin, of the Mist Spirit Sect.”
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