Chapter Thirteen: A Dream Within a Dream

When Jiang Pingchuan awoke once more, he found himself lying inside a dilapidated grand hall. Rubbing his swollen eyes, he hazily saw before him a scroll bearing eight characters: “Place of Sutra, Cultivate the Heart and Comprehend the Dao.”

Murmuring those words to himself, he turned and swept his gaze across the hall. Aside from the scroll, the chamber was empty. Frustration welled up within him; he could not fathom why, after entering the Sutra Pavilion, he had found no trace of the myriad ancient texts he had envisioned. His companion, Furball, had vanished, and he himself had stumbled into the Nether Spirit Pavilion.

Now, with the elder’s help, he had finally escaped the Nether Spirit Pavilion and arrived at the true Sutra Pavilion—yet there was nothing here. He wished to leave, but Yan Qingxia had already told him that one must comprehend the Dao for ten years within the Sutra Pavilion; without that, there was no way out.

Jiang Pingchuan paced around, surveying the empty hall. How was he to comprehend the Dao here, with nothing at all? He still had no idea where Furball was, and the elder awaited his enlightenment of the Sutra Pavilion’s myriad texts, so Jiang Pingchuan could accept his legacy.

He suddenly felt as if the heavens above were not only indifferent but intent on opposing him. Aimlessly circling the hall several times, he finally stood before the scroll. Since it was the only thing here, surely the Sutra Pavilion’s mystery lay within it. With this thought, he solemnly sat cross-legged before the scroll.

“Place of Sutra, Cultivate the Heart and Comprehend the Dao,” he recited, gazing at the scroll.

This Pavilion was clearly the “place of sutra” mentioned. Yet “cultivate the heart and comprehend the Dao”—these four words left him scratching his head. He did not understand their meaning. He had come to the Sutra Pavilion to observe and comprehend the Dao, but not a single scripture or method was present. How was he to begin, or to attain enlightenment?

He thought his choice to seek enlightenment here might have been worse than simply venturing to the forbidden grounds behind the mountain to find his brother. At least those places, though dangerous, were not so dull. Here, nothing remained but himself and the scroll. Unable to sit still, Jiang Pingchuan stood and brushed the dust from his pants, grumbling under his breath.

He wandered the Sutra Pavilion for who knew how long. Yawning, his vision blurred, he lay down before the scroll and closed his eyes, falling fast asleep. In his dreams, the phrase “cultivate the heart and comprehend the Dao” filled his world, never departing no matter how he tried.

Drifting into sleep with those words, he muttered them incessantly, and in his dreams, he roamed a boundless land. Before him lay a lake, vast and endless, its surface shrouded in mist. Jiang Pingchuan sat by the lakeside, watching the mysterious water.

He stared at the placid surface, sensing something moving in the lake’s center, yet standing on the shore he could not venture forth to investigate. All he could do was gaze with curiosity at the ripples forming there and sigh.

Looking down, he noticed the lake’s color constantly changed—sometimes azure blue, sometimes enchanting violet, sometimes black as ink. Yet at the center, the water’s color remained unchanged.

A buzzing filled his mind, and the golden characters hidden within his body rearranged themselves ceaselessly in his consciousness. Jiang Pingchuan closed his eyes, focusing on the pattern these characters created.

“The Chronicle of the Wilds,” written by the gods in ancient times, records countless events. According to legend, at the dawn of the world, torrential rain fell and the barrier between the realms of gods and demons drew water into the seas. This water, vast as the ocean, roiled and repelled like living creatures in hot oil, rising thousands of feet. It surged into the human realm, bringing desolation and regret among the gods, who sent a fairy to govern the flood. The fairy drew upon the source of life to guide the water into the Celestial Pool, where it was nourished by the essence of sun and moon, gradually transforming. Its color changed with the heavens, pure and unsullied, nurturing all creatures without harm. Later, the Celestial Pool became a divine artifact, and the water transformed into the gods’ tools, placed in the space of myriad laws to aid comprehension of the Dao, yielding good fruit. Thus, the water was named Immortalizing Water.

Jiang Pingchuan carefully read the passage formed by the golden characters in his mind. He realized these characters could arrange themselves into different sequences, and through their arrangement, he learned the origin of the lake before him.

However, he noticed the arrangement of the characters was somehow restricted; he could not see the two characters giving the fairy’s name—they grew dim, nor could he discern who ultimately possessed the lake’s water. Nevertheless, this did not hinder his understanding of the text.

Jiang Pingchuan gazed at the lake, knowing it was meant for enlightenment. Yet, much like the characters in the Sutra Pavilion, all spoke of the Dao, but where was it? How could one comprehend it? He had no path, and so he sat by the lake, head bowed, watching the surface.

He thought even his dreams were dull. Before him shimmered a lake of many colors, yet he lacked the courage to plunge in—or perhaps he feared the water would reject him, as the characters had intimated.

He knew the lake was for enlightenment, but the mere thought of comprehension gave him a headache. So he closed his eyes, lay beside the lake, and soon drifted into deeper sleep, feeling his body float and something beneath him wriggle, waves of coolness washing over him. His heart, once restless from boredom, gradually calmed.

He felt himself transported to a tranquil place, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself at the center of the Immortalizing Lake. He reached out to touch the water beneath him, feeling the same coolness he had sensed earlier.

Standing up, he looked beneath his feet, astonished to find he could walk upon the lake’s surface as if it were solid ground. Recalling the strange sights from the lakeshore, he grew curious and peered down. The water at the lake’s heart was indeed always clear, never changing hue. Jiang Pingchuan lay prone, staring into its depths.

He remembered seeing ripples emanating from the lake’s center, yet now it was the shore that constantly stirred, while the center remained placid.

Watching the splashing at the shore, Jiang Pingchuan gritted his teeth and stepped toward it. But after only a few steps, he sensed something amiss. When he tried to retract his foot, he stumbled and fell into the water. Before he could struggle, something wrapped around his legs, dragging him toward the lakebed.

Looking up, he saw the once-clear water had turned black as ink, with not a single ray of light. Jiang Pingchuan desperately wished to awaken from the dream, but it felt as though a thousand-pound stone pressed upon him, leaving him utterly immobile.

When he ceased sinking, he sighed, then stared in disbelief—he could actually survive underwater. But as he looked at himself, Jiang Pingchuan nearly fainted.

He had become a tiny fish fry, drifting in the water. Around him were many pale fish skeletons, each bearing a face twisted in unwillingness.

Suddenly, he sensed massive currents and realized his predicament was dire. In the black water, a pair of dark green beast eyes fixed upon him. Without a second thought, Jiang Pingchuan flicked his tail and fins, darting swiftly toward the shore.

The owner of those beast eyes soon revealed itself—a large fish with dark green eyes, gleaming white fangs, its back covered in barbed spines, and scales black tinged with crimson, rapidly closing on Jiang Pingchuan.

Anxiety gripped him, and he struggled desperately toward the shore. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his body—the big fish brushed past him, its belly scales scraping his back, leaving him burning with pain. As the big fish ignored him, Jiang Pingchuan quietly followed behind, believing it might know how to escape this accursed Immortalizing Lake.

Keeping some distance, he suddenly caught the strong scent of blood. He saw the big fish gnawing at something near the shore, and at that moment, felt countless beast eyes of varying colors watching him.

Turning around, Jiang Pingchuan saw thousands of fish, large and small, surging toward the big fish. His heart skipped a beat, and he swiftly dove to the lakebed, hiding behind a reef, watching as the multitude swam overhead.

He realized, then, that this environment was equally governed by the law of the jungle. As the newcomers neared the source of the blood, the big fish turned, baring its fangs with a growl, causing the others to halt and scatter in all directions.

Just as Jiang Pingchuan thought the spoils belonged solely to the big fish, he noticed a pair of eerie red beast eyes swimming toward it from the deep water. The big fish, sensing danger, seemed reluctant to abandon its prize.

As hesitation flickered in its green eyes, Jiang Pingchuan felt a tremendous suction from the water. Clinging tightly to the reef, he watched as the big fish was swept away by this force. When it faded, the darkness before him was replaced by intense dark green, and he saw those red eyes open their maw and belch near where the big fish had been tearing at its prey.

Dazed, Jiang Pingchuan saw the creature with red eyes feasting on his own body. His flesh was chewed into pulp and swallowed, and the monster seemed to relish every bite.

Clenching his tiny fangs, Jiang Pingchuan glared at the beast gnawing on his body. An urge welled up inside him—a voice telling him to bite it, kill it, and devour it. A buzzing filled his mind.

“Child, if you wish to escape, you must grow stronger, become a relentless predator. When you are mighty enough to swallow mountains and rivers, you will leave this lake and return to your world. Do not hesitate, do not be merciful. They have already taken your body—what are you waiting for? Hunt without restraint, taste the blood; you will like it. Go now. To leave, you must keep hunting.”

An ancient, distant voice echoed in his mind, stirring his heart. He felt an overwhelming thirst.

Jiang Pingchuan opened his mouth, letting the lake water rush in, but his hunger and thirst remained unsatisfied. Seeing the now calm waters, he slowly swam toward the shore, only to discover he could not escape the surface, trapped within the lake.

He sighed, but then caught a faint scent of blood in the water. His eyes gleamed, fangs bared, as he followed the scent with desperate speed, yearning for blood and wild predation.

Behind his tiny fish form, the darkness in the lake rippled as it watched his hunger and thirst, as if someone smiled within the water.