The Song Dynasty was the king for thirteen years before he knew that he was Tianlong.

Chapter 367 has an extra one

Jiangnan, Jiangning Prefecture, Qingliang Mountain.

Deep in the mountains, white clouds swirl around, creating a scene resembling a fairyland.

Three thatched huts stood not far from the cliff, and Xiaoyaozi was drawing something on a wooden table in front of the huts.

It was a glittering, golden object, like brocade or satin. Xiaoyaozi held a cinnabar brush, making dots and strokes as he pondered, his expression quite serious and solemn.

From a distance, he seemed to merge with heaven and earth, with the pen in his hand, and with the glittering golden object.

He drew from morning until afternoon, until Wang Yuyan returned from picking mushrooms in the mountains with a small bamboo basket on her back. Only then did he let out a long sigh and stop drawing.

“Great-grandfather…” Wang Yuyan called out.

Xiaoyaozi's face was pale at this moment, and it took him a few breaths to speak: "Yan'er is back."

"Hmm!" Wang Yuyan nodded, her expression quite worried, and said, "Great-grandfather, you spent all day drawing this... Investiture of the Gods?"

Xiaoyaozi looked at the golden brocade-like object on the table and said, "It's not bad, but I don't know what's wrong with it. It just doesn't feel right. There are no miraculous signs."

Wang Yuyan said, "My great-grandfather only obtained the method of refining this item in a dream, so it is not appropriate to completely believe it. Your health is more important. Don't harm your body by making this item."

Xiaoyaozi shook his head and said, "My martial arts have now reached the fifth level of the Twelve Towers, and my magic power has also entered this realm. I cannot be easily injured. Although this thing came from my dream, I feel that it is very important. It is very likely that I can recover my memories of my past life through this thing, so I must refine it successfully."

"Great-grandfather, did you... really believe in things in your dreams?" Wang Yuyan put down the small basket on her back and stepped forward to ask.

Xiaoyaozi stood with his hands behind his back, deep in thought: "These past few days I have carefully pondered and discerned, and the events in the dream must be from my past life. There is no way they are false. In my past life, my name was Shi, and I had a senior brother named Tai and a junior brother named Ling... Wait, that's not right!"

"Great-grandfather, what's wrong?" Wang Yuyan asked, puzzled.

“I clearly remember that there was only one senior brother and one junior brother in my dream, but now that I think about it…” Xiaoyaozi suddenly frowned.

“My great-grandfather did mention that in his dream there were three fellow disciples, but there was only one senior brother and one junior brother,” Wang Yuyan said.

“Yes, that’s how it was in the dream, but now that I think about it, why do I suddenly feel like there’s another junior brother here?” Xiaoyaozi said, his expression changing.

"There's another junior brother?" Wang Yuyan's starry eyes flickered. "So, the dream was mistaken?"

“Impossible…” Xiaoyaozi said, “In my dream, my master, Hongmeng Daoist, only had three disciples: Tai, Shi, and Ling. He had no other disciples. All the dreams I’ve had recently been like this. They were incredibly clear in the dreams, but now…”

"If the dream is true, then could it be that my great-grandfather's feelings were wrong?" Wang Yuyan wondered.

"Is my feeling wrong?" Xiaoyaozi stroked his beard. "Am I wrong? But this feeling suddenly came up and took root in my heart. It seems to have always been so. I am certain that there are four disciples in the sect, which leaves me no room for hesitation."

“This… I don’t understand.” Wang Yuyan thought for a moment, “Great-grandfather, did you use up too much magic power and have hallucinations? Great-grandfather should rest well. I’ll go and make you some mushroom soup.”

Xiaoyaozi waved to Wang Yuyan, telling her to go about her business, then sat down in his chair, his brows furrowed, deep in thought.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, muttering to himself, "No, something's not right. In my dream, my master, senior brothers, and junior brothers all said that the Hongmeng Dao is passed down to three friends, and there are only three people in one sect. So who is this extra junior brother?" "Is it really just an illusion caused by excessive consumption of magical power?"

"Or is there some other reason, such as a slip of the mind or a blockage of thought, that led to this absurd idea?"

"Or is it that I'm about to advance to the sixth level of the twelfth floor, and my inner demons have come out to tempt me ahead of time?"

"Could it be... that when one cultivates to a certain level, extraterrestrial demons will descend. Unlike inner demons, they can also use various methods to confuse people, eventually causing them to lose their will and even suffer a qi deviation, severing their cultivation path?"

Upon thinking of this, Xiaoyaozi's face turned angry, and he snorted: "No matter who you are, it is impossible for you to disturb my mind. My heart for martial arts and the Dao is as firm as a rock. If anyone stands in my way, I will kill gods if they are in my way, and eliminate demons if they are in my way!"

As he spoke, he stood up, his gaze falling on the Investiture of the Gods on the table. He picked up a cinnabar brush and began to continue sketching and outlining...

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, birds sang in the treetops, monkeys howled, and tigers and leopards roared. Suddenly, Xiaoyaozi woke up from his dream in a cold sweat.

He sat up abruptly from the couch, his face grim, looking rather surprised and uncertain.

The extra junior brother, whom the master had sensed, was mentioned in the dream. Master Hongmeng Immortal Venerable said that he had overlooked this junior brother before, and that there were actually four disciples in the sect, including this junior brother.

But how could this be? Something's not right, this is just too wrong.

Xiaoyaozi wiped the sweat from his forehead and narrowed his eyes. This was a paradox, contradicting his previous dream.

If dreams are a true reflection of past life experiences, then it's true that the master, fellow disciples, and other relatives all said there were three people in one sect. That's undeniable.

Moreover, the fact that he cultivated according to the Taoist methods in his dream and learned magic, and that all of these could be manifested in reality, also proves that the dream was not false.

But at this moment, in the dream, the master actually changed his mind and said there were four people in the sect, and the eldest brother nodded in agreement.

Does this abrupt, capricious, and contradictory behavior prove that the previous dreams were not entirely real? It's unclear which is true and which is false; perhaps there's something wrong with the dream itself, causing this inconsistency?

The eldest brother nodded, but the youngest brother looked puzzled. This was also strange. Didn't the youngest brother in the dream know that there was another junior brother? This seemed odd no matter how you looked at it. He was in a dream, so shouldn't everyone in the dream know about this?
Xiaoyaozi took a breath, then suddenly frowned. Could this extra junior brother be a disciple that Master had just accepted?

If that's the case, it's barely plausible, but wouldn't that prove that the master and senior brothers from the previous life still exist?

If it exists, where is it now? Is it a reincarnation like myself, or is it hiding somewhere, practicing asceticism?
Why was I reincarnated? Where is the immortal mountain I lived on in my dream? Where did all the magical treasures I received in my dream go?

Xiaoyaozi suddenly felt a headache coming on, his eyes looking out of the thatched hut, his gaze filled with confusion and bewilderment...

North of Hedong Road, outside Yanmen Pass, in front of Shuozhou City of the Sixteen Prefectures.

The Song army's joint camp was set up extremely far away, and the camp fences were more than half again as high as normal military fences. Many vermilion talismans were painted on them, which shimmered with an eerie and dark light in the morning sun.

Inside a tent, Zhao Ji looked at Lin Lingsu, who was dressed in a Taoist robe and strode in, with a puzzled expression: "Master Lingsu, why do you have such an expression?"

Lin Lingsu's face was dark and unreadable, a mixture of complexity and astonishment. She said in a low voice, "Last night I had a dream. In the dream, my master actually had an extra disciple."

(End of this chapter)