Chapter 537: Dream Cultivation |
I stared down at my hands, which felt both familiar and unfamiliar.
Even though the pale blue eyes staring back at me from the underground pool were not mine, they were the only eyes I had now. As I flexed my fingers, I noticed something unusual: a simple metal band encircled my left ring finger, one I hadn’t seen before.
It was a storage ring.
The ring’s design was elegant but subtle, crafted from what appeared to be silver with tiny, looping symbols etched along its surface. I attempted to channel qi through the band, but as I expected, nothing happened.
“Ring,” I said aloud to Moon, holding the ring up for her to see. “Can’t open.”
The large panda tilted her head and examined the ring encircling my finger with those intelligent, black eyes. She produced a low rumble that seemed to reverberate against the cave walls.
“Learn,” she said simply. “Dream. First.”
I understood what she meant. To unlock whatever was stored in the ring, I first had to cultivate as a dream cultivator. It struck me as ironic, here I was, a person who had achieved Pseudo-Elemental Realm in my previous cultivation system, and in this realm I was virtually a complete beginner.
Moon indicated for me to take a seat across from her. I sat in a meditative position on the soft moss that covered the cave floor. The three cubs watched with curious eyes and occasionally made soft chirping sounds.
I understood what she was trying to say. Dream cultivation required a precise balance; you had to sleep to enter the dream realm but remain conscious enough to know you were dreaming. It was the first step in cultivating as a true dream cultivator.
I closed my eyes and attempted to relax my mind.
Moon’s spiritual pressure enveloped me, but instead of being oppressive, it was supportive, like a gentle stream supporting me to a meditative state. Her cultivation level was many times greater than mine, so she could manipulate the spiritual atmosphere to help me reach the right mental state.
It began with my body becoming heavier and less present. Next, my thoughts drifted and flowed in ways that did not strictly follow logic. And finally, the cave and everything else around me completely disappeared, replaced by...
I was a baby. I was screaming in terror as bizarre energies ripped through the air above me. An elderly woman clutched me to her chest, her face twisted with fear and determination. “Hang on little one,” she whispered. “We’re headed somewhere safe.”
Before I could see more of what was going on, the scene shifted and I was five years old. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of a small cottage. Grandmother Hou (although I now realized she was not my actual grandmother) was calmly instructing me on breathing exercises.
“Okay, try again, Hongyun,” she said softly. “Find the dream qi. It is there, I swear.”
However, no matter how hard I tried to locate the silvery energy, it stayed just out of reach. I could almost touch it, but it slipped away before I could get a hold of it. Grandmother Hou was never frustrated, only patient and loving, however, I could see the concern growing in her eyes as the years went by.
The next sequence of events came rapidly. I was ten. Grandmother Hou had collapsed at the kitchen table. Blood was spattered across her lips. Her cultivation had been failing for years. The injury had likely occurred years ago, but she had never told me.
“I’m fine, little one,” she insisted, although we both knew she was lying.
Memories continued to flash past me. Grandmother Hou growing weaker by the day. Teaching me to read and write. Sharing stories of cultivation and the wider world. Her final moments, when she placed a storage ring into my palm and demanded I survive and find my strength somehow.
Then the cemetery. I was eleven. Standing alone beside the freshly dug grave. With no place to go and no one to care whether I lived or died. The cottage had belonged to her, and with no way to pay rent, I had to live on the streets.
Memories of my years on the streets flooded through my mind: stealing to eat. Sleeping in alleys. Fighting other kids for scraps. Getting thinner and hungrier with the approach of winter. The day I collapsed from starvation and assumed I would finally join Grandmother Hou in death.
And then a rugged-looking man with hardened hands knelt beside me. He offered me bread and water. “What is your name, boy?” Master Jian asked, and something in his voice caused me to tell him the truth.
Years of training followed. Finding strength in discipline rather than in spiritual energy. Becoming a person with pride. Master Jian never treated me with pity, only the respect of a warrior for a fellow warrior.
The memory changed to a training area where I moved with fluidity, practicing sword forms. In front of me was a figure I couldn’t clearly make out; he seemed to be distorted every time I focused on him. Although I knew this person was the most important in my life in this world.
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“When will I learn the truth?” the distorted figure asked. “Why was I created?”
“Maybe we will learn that in the next town we visit,” I replied, trying to reassure him.
He was my brother in spirit, though we had no common blood.
He chose to stay by my side regardless of the paths we took.
The memory shifted again but more quickly this time. There were training sessions, quiet talks by fires, other activities that built an unshakeable bond. Throughout it all, the distorted figure remained constant. A companion who saw value in someone society threw away.
Then suddenly I was plummeting. The mountain trail gave way beneath my feet, and I fell through the air toward the valley below. This was no accident. I deliberately fell. I leapt in front of danger to save the person I believed was my brother.
A searing pain exploded through my chest as something sharp pierced my chest. I looked down at my chest to see a branch from a tree protruding from my torso. Dark blood spread across my robes. Though my vision was fading, I felt no remorse. He was safe. That was all that mattered.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you better,” I mumbled, though I didn’t know if he could hear me.
My vision began to fade, like water leaking from a cracked vessel.
I snapped awake with a gasp.
My hand flew to my chest where I expected to see a gaping wound. There was none. Only the simple robes I wore. Unblemished skin under them.
“I am Ke Yin,” I declared aloud. The words felt significant, like an anchor to my real self. “But I grew up in this world as Hou.”
The memories were vivid and impossible to ignore. I remembered Grandmother Hou’s gentle hands teaching me to read. I remembered years of failed cultivation attempts. I remembered the warmth of a friend I couldn’t clearly picture.
As I spoke those words, something shifted inside me.
Dream qi began flowing through my meridians for the first time. A strange silvery energy that was lighter and smoother than standard spiritual energy. The flow began as a trickle and built as I stabilized my mind to encompass the duality of my existence.
I had broken through to Dream Disciple realm.
“Good,” Moon made a pleased rumbling sound. “Strong.”
While it was embarrassing to be praised like a child for achieving what was essentially the first stage of dream cultivation, considering I already had experience in several cultivation systems, I realized that from Moon’s point of view, I was really just starting out.
Since I could control dream qi, I refocused on the storage ring. I poured the silvery energy into the ring. This time, it responded immediately. The ring unlocked with a soft click and inside was a small dimensional space holding two items.
First, a slim book bound in midnight blue leather. The leather was otherwise unadorned except for the elegant silver script, “Foundations of Dream Cultivation — For My Beloved Grandson.” I opened the book carefully. I noted how the pages seemed to shimmer with the remnants of dream qi.
Inside the book were the basics on dream cultivation realms and techniques.
Grandmother Hou had written a detailed primer on each of the primary dream cultivation realms:
Dream Disciple: the initial recognition of dreaming while asleep.
At this stage, the cultivator develops the ability to retain memories across dreams and the ability to influence one’s personal dreamscapes to a limited extent.
Lucid Novice: entering shared dreams.
The cultivator can create simple dream constructs that exist only in the dream realm. They also gain the ability to manipulate an element in the real world.
Thoughtshaper: Constructs that persist across multiple dreams.
The cultivator can influence the dreams of others and create their own temporary dream realms.
Nightbound Adept: Access to the deeper dream layers and Night Domains.
The cultivator begins to develop more powerful dream abilities in the physical world.
Dream Architect: Forming permanent dream constructs and realms.
At this stage, the cultivator gains the unique ability to travel through Dream Gates to more exquisite dream worlds. It is the experiences gained in these dream worlds that will influence the development of the practitioner’s cultivation.
After this stage, there were descriptions of the Oneiric Sovereign and the realms that came after it but even reading about these higher realms overwhelmed me. The potential power was incredible. Reality manipulation solely through imagination and faith.
When I was done reading, I put the primer aside and looked at the second item in the storage ring.
It was a sealed letter bearing my name in Grandmother Hou's handwriting.
My fingers trembled as I reached out to grab it.
The letter began with “My dearest Kangwei,”
A wave of foreign emotion hit me, and I had to take a few seconds to compose myself before I could continue.
“Since you are reading this, that means that I am gone and you have finally awakened your dream cultivation potential. My boy, I always knew this day would come. You might not have been born to me, but you became my grandson in every way that mattered.”
From the memories that I had recovered, I couldn’t help but agree.
Grandmother Hou had been more than a grandmother, she had been a mother, a father, and a friend all in one for Hou.
“Be careful. The world is darker than you could possibly imagine. Your father, Xu Weiming, was a Dream Architect of extraordinary skill and your mother, Xu Lianhua, possessed spiritual sensitivity that would have made her a formidable cultivator in her own right. There are many enemies out there that would want to end their legacy by hunting you down.”
Even though only Wu Kangming could kill me in this world, it was in my nature to be careful.
Still, it was good to know that this body had its enemies.
“I raised you as my own because I chose to love you as my own. Every day I spent teaching you, caring for you, watching you grow - those were gifts you gave me, not burdens I carried. You brought joy to an old woman's final years, and I regret only that I could not live long enough to see you claim your true inheritance.
"Be patient with yourself as you begin this journey. Be careful of nightmare realms until you are strong enough. Remember that dream cultivation is as much about understanding yourself as it is about gaining power. Your bloodline carries the potential for greatness, but it is your heart that will determine what kind of man you become.
"I may not be there to guide you anymore, but you carry my love with you always. Make me proud, little one. Make your parents proud. And know that somewhere, in whatever realm awaits beyond death, your grandmother will be watching over you."
The letter was signed with a simple "Grandmother Hou".
When I finished reading it, I realised that tears were running down my face.
The letter had affected me more than I had expected.
But I guess in some way it made sense.
This wasn’t like the other times where I was in someone else’s body living someone else’s life.
These emotions belonged to my other life as Hou.
They were real and I had to accept that.