Chapter One: Everything Exists in Dreams

It is said that what you think about during the day, you will dream of at night.

It is said that dreams are the subconscious, the longing buried deep within the human heart.

It is said that by interpreting dreams, one can foresee misfortune and blessing.

It is said that dreams are another parallel world, truly existing.

Stone Fei had no desire to know any of this. All he wanted was to sleep.

In his own apartment in Chunhua Neighborhood.

With a crisp snap, Stone Fei switched off the bedroom light, tossed his phone aside, and settled down to sleep.

The phone showed it was just past nine o’clock; tonight, he intended to go to bed early.

Last night he’d had a dream where he seemed to be a foreigner, and before he could figure out what was happening, a turtle-man with a steel trident stabbed him to death.

Yes, a turtle that resembled a man, skin gleaming green, sporting a red mask.

Frankly, it was downright bizarre.

Utterly bewildered, Stone Fei hadn’t even figured out how to use the gun in his hand or whether to release the safety before the turtle-man came at him with his trident.

Everything went black, and he woke from the dream.

Glancing at the time, he saw it was only a little after three in the morning.

Still hours before dawn.

Afterwards, he tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep.

Not until six o’clock did he finally feel a touch of drowsiness.

But just as he dozed off, the alarm went off. There was nothing he could do but drag himself to work.

It goes without saying how poorly he functioned at work that day.

He felt as though he’d floated through the entire day.

So tonight, he was determined to get some rest.

Closing his eyes, the fatigue of the day pulled him swiftly under.

His consciousness slowly descended, as if floating in a dark ocean, drifting aimlessly.

Then, all at once, he “awoke.”

With his return to awareness, the first sensation that greeted him was intense pain.

He opened his eyes and saw the midnight sky, where a round, bright moon hung. The moon was beautiful, luminous, but he had no time to appreciate it.

Looking around, he found himself beside a ditch, his clothes soaking wet, as though he’d wandered into the water during the night and been carried here.

The pain came from the many wounds on his body.

The deepest of these was on his left shoulder, as if inflicted by a sharp blade.

The wound, now soaked in muddy water, burned fiercely.

On him, he found only a sword—a sheathed sword—and a gun.

A black pistol, the very one he’d held in last night’s dream.

The sound of insects chirping at his ear, the scent of earth in his nostrils, the pain coursing through his body...

Every sense—smell, hearing, touch—felt astonishingly real, as if he had crossed into another world.

But Stone Fei knew he was dreaming.

It had been like this in last night’s dream too—just as vivid, just as lifelike.

Unsteadily, he got to his feet and saw a cave not far away. All around were mountains and trees; the only way forward was into the cave.

He only hoped that nothing strange would leap out at him in the cave, as had happened with the turtle-man in yesterday’s dream.

He made his way slowly into the cave, where moonlight poured in, illuminating the stone walls.

To his surprise, the cave was covered in murals.

It wasn’t the murals themselves that were surprising, but rather their subject: not the world of mortals, but the heavens.

Vast and magnificent palaces, awe-inspiring gods clad in golden armor, palace maids with high-piled hair and feathered robes...

Dreams contained all things, so it wasn’t strange to see such sights.

Stone Fei glanced at the paintings, but soon looked away.

He was tired, and this body he inhabited was exhausted as well.

He wanted to sleep.

Could one sleep in a dream?

Could one fall asleep in a dream?

If he slept in his dream, then even if he woke at three in the morning in real life, wouldn’t he feel refreshed?

Since he was already dreaming, wouldn’t sleeping in the dream count as sleeping without dreaming?

Wouldn’t that mean he wouldn’t be tired at work the next day?

With these thoughts, he went deeper into the cave, searching for a sheltered, dry spot.

He was cold and uncomfortable in his wet clothes, making it difficult to sleep.

After some thought, gritting his teeth against the pain, he ventured outside the cave to gather dry firewood.

It seemed to have rained recently, and dry wood was nowhere to be found.

Stone Fei cursed his luck, but managed to pick up some dried grass and sticks, which he carried back into the cave.

A new problem presented itself: how to start a fire?

He didn’t have a lighter.

But he did have a gun.

After fiddling with the pistol for a while, he released the safety and fired a shot at the pile of wood.

With a bang, the firewood turned black, but did not ignite.

So, even in dreams, not everything goes your way.

With nothing else to try, Stone Fei lay down on the ground, preparing to sleep.

He was truly exhausted.

His wounds made it impossible to lie on his back, so he curled up in an awkward position, legs askew, in a rather ungraceful heap.

Could he really sleep within a dream?

Stone Fei drifted off.

Would he dream within a dream?

Apparently not—he faded into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Yet even in dreams, one can be disturbed.

Stone Fei had only slept for a little while when he sensed someone approaching.

He opened his eyes to see a shadow flit past.

Was it a person? A ghost? Or perhaps another turtle-man?

He was puzzled.

After a moment’s thought, he called out, “Hey! If you’re human, don’t bother me. I have nothing of value—take the sword if you want.”

“But if you’re a ghost, wait till I’m well rested before you come for me!”

He was truly exhausted.

After a full day’s work and now the weariness of his dream body, he wanted only to sleep.

Having said his piece, he closed his eyes again, determined to continue his rest.

But soon after he dozed off, he felt someone pass by again.

This time, when he opened his eyes, he saw his sword was gone.

“If you’ve taken the sword, don’t come back!” Stone Fei called out.

If the sword was taken, it must have been a person.

He tried to sleep again, but this time, he couldn’t.

Because a figure appeared before him—a woman, with hair piled high and robed in feathers, a beauty beyond compare.

In her left hand she carried a flower basket; in her right, Stone Fei’s sword.

She looked at him and smiled—a smile so fresh and sweet, pure and noble.

She was more beautiful than any woman Stone Fei had ever seen, her smile more enchanting than any he’d known.

Truly, only in a dream could such a woman exist.

“How is it that you’re sleeping at someone else’s doorstep?” she asked, her voice as clear and melodious as an orchid in a secluded valley.

She had come to check after hearing a strange noise.

Stone Fei replied, “This is your doorstep?”

Whose front door is a cave?

She countered, “Did you not notice my clothing?”

Her attire was identical to those of the divine maidens depicted in the murals. This was, indeed, her doorstep.

Stone Fei glanced at her. “You have such a large doorstep—let me sleep a while. I’ll leave once I’m rested.”

She laughed softly at this, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Of course you may, but I must at least know the name of the one sleeping at my threshold.”

“I...” Stone Fei hesitated. He was about to say his name, but somehow, the words stuck in his throat; he couldn’t remember it.

In the dream, it was as if he’d lost his memory, unable to recall his own name.

So he said, “My name is Careless.”

“There are people with that surname?” she exclaimed, clearly surprised.

Stone Fei sighed, concerned for her intelligence. “I’m called Careless because I’m always making mistakes in my writing.”

She laughed again, even her eyes alight with amusement.

“And who are you?” Stone Fei asked in return.

“I am Fox.”