The Self in the Dream
"..."
The world was silent, utterly still.
Only the sound of the spider demons swinging carelessly from the beams remained.
"I'm sorry, but they're making me a bit dizzy—probably because of all those legs," Xu Shulou couldn't help but speak up. "Demon Lord Xuanyang, would you mind having them step aside for now?"
A spider demon hanging upside-down from the beam turned its eerie, unsettling gaze toward her. Its voice was rough and grating, yet somehow carried a hint of grievance: "So what if I borrowed some needles and thread from that cleaning lady and forgot to return them? Was that really necessary?"
"..."
"So it was you who took the needles and thread?" Xu Shulou found it odd. "What do you need them for? Don’t you have your own silk?"
"You think I can sew clothes with spider silk?" The spider demon sounded indignant. "My silk is poisonous—try stitching something with it and see how that goes..."
"Enough!" Demon Lord Xuanyang cut off this childish exchange. To Xu Shulou, he said, "They are here to ensure my safety. I cannot grant your request to dismiss them."
"Fine," Xu Shulou conceded easily. "Then have him return the needles and thread."
"...Go on."
"Yes." The spider demon bowed and left to retrieve the items.
Xu Shulou unfurled a thin silk scroll. "Now, may I ask which of you is the lustful demon who stole the young attendant 'Brave Without Tears or Fear's' husband and wife?"
Silence. A heavy, awkward silence. No one answered, but the demons across from her kept casting subtle glances at Demon Lord Xuanyang.
Xu Shulou was stunned. "It was you?"
The Demon Lord scowled. "If it was consensual, how is that stealing?"
"..."
While Xu Shulou was still processing this, the spider demon returned with the needles and thread, striding over to shove the bundle into her hands. Only then did she notice that each of its feet was adorned with a delicate embroidered shoe.
Behind her, the chef who had come along for support brandished his knife angrily and reminded her, "The stolen recipes! Don’t forget about the stolen recipes!"
He likely meant to whisper, but his booming voice carried straight to the demons. One of them stepped forward, scratching his head awkwardly. "Uh, A-Xiao, that was actually a misunderstanding."
The chef, whose full name was "If You Keep Staring I’ll Cut You" but went by the nickname "A-Xiao," flew into a rage. "What misunderstanding? I considered you a friend, but you followed this so-called Demon Lord in betraying the Demon Palace and even stole my recipes! That’s a double betrayal! You were just jealous of my skills! From now on, you don’t get to call me 'A-Xiao'—you’ll address me like all my other enemies: 'Your Lordship'!"
The other demon sighed. "In that case, I’ll tell you the truth."
"Let’s hear your lies!"
He shook his head. "Ah, it was all out of the Demon Sovereign’s kindness. He... had long suffered from your recipes, losing his appetite day after day. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you outright, fearing it would hurt your feelings. So he came to me privately, asking if there was anything I could do. Since I was already planning to join Lord Xuanyang’s rebellion, I saw an opportunity and took your recipes with me. I was willing to bear the blame if it meant doing one last service for the Sovereign before I left."
Listen to that—even while betraying the Demon Palace, he remained loyal to his former master. Such touching devotion.
Bai Roushuang was no longer drowsy. Her ears perked up, and she was now wide awake from laughter.
"The Sovereign didn’t need to go that far, and neither did you!" Chef A-Xiao wept with genuine sorrow. "Even without the recipes, my cooking is just as terrible!"
Hearing this heartfelt confession, the other demon also burst into tears. "I was wrong!"
"It’s not your fault!"
The two clasped hands, tears streaming down their faces, and soon embraced.
The onlookers were spellbound. Neither Xu Shulou’s group nor the Xuanyang Palace demons had the heart to interrupt.
Bai Roushuang sidled up to her senior sister. "Demons are really... simple folk, aren’t they?"
Xu Shulou glanced down at the scroll in her hands, suddenly unsure whether she should continue seeking vengeance.
Bai Roushuang sensed her hesitation and shrugged. "At least... there’s no misunderstanding with Granny Liuli’s request. That spider demon really did borrow her needles and thread without returning them. We helped her, so this trip wasn’t entirely wasted?"
She ended the sentence with an upward lilt, turning what should have been reassurance into a question.
Xu Shulou gave her a look. "Do you remember why we came to the demon realm in the first place?"
"..." Bai Roushuang smacked her forehead. "To investigate whether they’re planning to attack the cultivation world! I almost forgot. Ugh, staying here too long is making me as dim-witted as the locals."
Xu Shulou patted her junior sister’s head sympathetically.
Meanwhile, the two tearful demons had finished their embrace and made a suggestion: "Since it was all a misunderstanding, how about we cook a meal for everyone? We can sit down and talk over food."
Xu Shulou noticed Demon Lord Xuanyang’s face twitch, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words to express his disbelief. In the end, he stayed silent.
The group eventually settled in the open area in front of Xuanyang Palace. The two chefs worked swiftly, soon presenting steaming dish after dish.
Ever the adventurous eater, Xu Shulou picked up her chopsticks and sampled the fare. She quickly concluded that both chefs were equally terrible and set her utensils down.
Demon Lord Xuanyang sat to the side, lost in thought—neither leaving nor touching the food.
Xu Shulou turned to him and made small talk. "Lord Xuanyang, has a patch of paint peeled off your gate?"
"Silence!" The Demon Lord roared.
Bai Roushuang and Xu Shulou exchanged glances. The Demon Sovereign and Demon Lord were equally impoverished—one raising cochineal insects for dye money, the other unable to even repaint his gate.
She leaned in and whispered to her senior sister, "They really don’t seem like they have the resources to invade the cultivation world."
Xu Shulou mused, "If war breaks out between our realms, I doubt the cause will lie with this side."
She cleared her throat and addressed Xuanyang directly. "Lord Xuanyang, I have one last task from the Demon Sovereign. Are you amassing forces, training lesser demons, and preparing to attack the cultivation world?"
The Demon Lord sneered. "Even if I were, why would I tell you?"
"Then let me rephrase. Do you remember the last great conflict between our realms? That was centuries ago. Since then, the cultivation sects have expanded, taking in more disciples and growing far beyond their former strength. What of the demon realm? How have things progressed here?"
Xuanyang narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening me?"
"Not at all. Just making conversation," Xu Shulou smiled. "After all, it’s a balance your Demon Sovereign and countless others have worked hard to maintain. Who would dare disrupt it?"
"..." The Demon Lord snorted. "Tell that old fool to stay out of my affairs!"
As the feast continued, cups were raised and drinks flowed freely. A few spider demons, lightweights when it came to alcohol, grew tipsy and began performing a strange eight-legged dance for the crowd.
Demon Lord Xuanyang covered his face, seemingly feeling deeply embarrassed.
Bai Roushuang tugged at her senior sister’s sleeve and complained, "I think these two actually get along quite well. How did things escalate to the point of rebelling against the Demon Palace?"
Xu Shulou watched the carefree demons before her, lost in thought.
In her dream, there was a scene where Lu Beichen, acting on information from Ling Yuechan, retrieved several demon corpses but inadvertently provoked retaliation. When the demons launched their attack, both Bai Roushuang and Xu Shulou were caught in the crossfire. While their sect rushed to protect Bai Roushuang, they overlooked Xu Shulou, whose spiritual power had already been crippled, leaving her to fall into demon hands. Later, when the attacking demons were annihilated, she was finally rescued. By then, Lu Beichen had already promised to take her in as his wife, and though he didn’t go back on his word out of pride, Bai Roushuang sneered at her, calling her "damaged goods."
But that wasn’t the main point. Xu Shulou racked her memory repeatedly—the dream had contained little about the demons themselves. All she recalled was that, under the leadership of the Lingxiao Sect and other righteous factions, the demons were steadily pushed back, never posing any significant threat.
In reality, Lu Beichen had never crossed paths with Ling Yuechan. The latest news Xu Shulou had heard about him involved his closeness to a female cultivator from some sect or another, or how yet another woman had been driven away by the orphan girl at his side—far from the grand ambitions and devoted following he commanded in her dream. Such events were unlikely to repeat.
Perhaps she had dwelled too much on the dream, for that night, within the Demon Palace, Xu Shulou dreamed again.
The first face to appear in the dream was Luo Fusheng’s, breathtakingly beautiful yet stern. She strode down a corridor in a picturesque courtyard filled with pear trees. A gentle breeze sent white petals fluttering like snow, a sight of ethereal beauty—but Luo Fusheng paid it no mind. Her eyes held only ice and resolve as she marched into a room.
The chamber was elegantly furnished, adorned with priceless artifacts even by cultivators’ standards. Luo Fusheng went straight to the table, lifted the teapot lid, and retrieved a porcelain vial from her storage ring.
Just then, a hand closed around her wrist.
The hand unmistakably belonged to a woman—slender, perfectly shaped fingers marred by calluses and scars, evidence of a life of hardship.
Luo Fusheng’s face paled instantly. "Xu Shulou?"
The woman gripping her wrist was indeed the Xu Shulou of the dream world. She smiled faintly. "What are you doing?"
"...Just taking some medicine with the tea here," Luo Fusheng stammered, hastily changing the subject. "Why are you in the main chamber? Didn’t you attend Elder Fan Yang’s funeral?"
Xu Shulou lowered her head, seemingly oblivious to Luo Fusheng’s unease, lost in her own sorrow. "My husband finds me an embarrassment. He refused to take me."
"An embarrassment? More embarrassing than Fan Yang’s death?" Luo Fusheng’s tone dripped with scorn. "To botch such a simple mission and die at the hands of those half-dead demons—what a joke."
"Yes, he really was... far too careless."
"You..." Luo Fusheng seemed to catch something in her expression.
"Hmm?" Xu Shulou tilted her head, her face a picture of innocent confusion.
Deciding she must have imagined it, Luo Fusheng shook her head. "Never mind."
She made an excuse and hurried away.
Left alone in the chamber, Xu Shulou stood as sunlight streamed through the lattice window, casting her face in shifting shadows.
———
When Xu Shulou awoke in the mushroom cottage, her heart was a tumult of emotions. She really shouldn’t look down on anyone—not even the version of herself from her dreams.
