Dream Ghost

Three days after Zhao Lin left, Chen Xuan summoned Lin Ye to his office. A yellowed file lay open on the desk, the cover bearing the three characters "Shen Heting" in fountain pen, the ink already blurred, like a faded flower. Beside it was a photograph, different from the last one—this time it was a group photo. Shen Heting stood in the middle, Lin Yuan on his left, and Chen Xuan on his right. All three were wearing the association's old-fashioned uniforms, standing under a large tree, sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on their faces. Lin Yuan looked to be in his early twenties, his features bearing a seven-tenths resemblance to Lin Ye's now, but his smile was more pronounced. Chen Xuan was much younger than he was now, his hair black, his face wrinkle-free, standing ramrod straight, like a newly planted poplar. Shen Heting stood in the middle, one hand on Lin Yuan's shoulder, the other on Chen Xuan's, like a kind father.

"What year is this?" Lin Ye asked.

"Twenty-one years ago," Chen Xuan pointed to his photo, "I was twenty-three, my second year in the association. Your father was twenty-four, already a Dream Weaver. Your maternal grandfather was forty-seven, an early-stage Dream Domain Master. That year, the three of us went on a mission together. The mission was simple: investigate a case suspected of being an invasion by dream creatures. Your maternal grandfather led the team, your father was in charge of combat, and I was in charge of logistics."

"What case?"

"A seven-year-old girl had been having nightmares for two months straight. Her parents contacted the association, and we sent people to investigate. We discovered it wasn't just ordinary nightmares; someone had planted a seed in her consciousness. Not a fragment, but a 'mark.' The mark of the Dream Weavers." Chen Xuan opened the file, inside which was a piece of paper with a symbol drawn on it—a circle with a vertical line in the middle and a dot above it. It was exactly the same symbol as the one in Zhao Lin's dream.

Lin Ye's finger paused on the paper for a moment.

"This is Lin Yuanshan's symbol."

"Yes. But Shen Heting didn't know that at the time. He only knew that this symbol didn't belong to any known dream rule system. He studied it for a month without any results. Then he made a decision—he was going to the Dream Continent to find the source of this symbol."

"Did he go alone?"

"He was alone. Your father wanted to go with him, but he wouldn't let him. He said, 'You're still young, don't get involved in this mess. I'll go check on him, and if I don't return within three days, consider me gone.'" Chen Xuan's voice was low. "He didn't come back."

Lin Ye looked at Shen Heting in the photo. Forty-seven years old, early stage of Dream Domain Dominator, with gray hair but a straight back and bright eyes. He stood in the sunlight, one hand on Lin Yuan's shoulder, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, like an ordinary father taking a family photo.

Where did he go?

"The Dream Continent. But not in any region we know of. He entered a coordinate that had never been recorded—we later learned that the coordinate led to the deepest part of the World Tree, deeper than the First Seal, the Second Seal, and the Third Seal. There was no light, no sound, no fluctuation of consciousness there. Like a black hole in the universe, everything that went in could not come out."

How did he know those coordinates?

"I don't know. He didn't tell anyone before he left. He only left one page in the file with a coordinate and a sentence written on it." Chen Xuan turned to the last page of the file. There was only one line of text on the paper, the handwriting was very steady, each stroke was forceful, as if carved into stone with a knife.

"Ruoruo, Daddy's going to take care of something. I'll be right back."

The words were exactly the same as those in the letter. Lin Ye looked at it for a long time, then closed the file and pushed it back in front of Chen Xuan.

"I need to go to those coordinates."

Chen Xuan looked at him without saying a word. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the blinds, casting parallel streaks of light across the table between them.

"Are you sure?" Chen Xuan finally asked.

"Sure."

"That coordinate has never been verified. Nobody knows what's there. Shen Heting went in and never came out. Your father tried to find it later, but he was bounced back as soon as he entered the outer edge of the World Tree. It wasn't that he wasn't capable enough; it was that the rules wouldn't allow it. There's some kind of rule protecting that place, and only specific people can enter."

"What kind of person?"

"I don't know. But the fact that Shen Heting was able to get in means that the condition wasn't about level. He was at the early stage of Dream Domain Dominator when he went in, while your father was at the late stage of Dream Domain Dominator, but he was bounced back. So it wasn't about level."

“It’s about bloodline,” Lin Ye said. “Shen Heting is a descendant of the Night’s Watch. My father was too. But he was repelled, which means he wasn’t of Night’s Watch blood. What’s the difference between Shen Heting and my father?”

Chen Xuan remained silent for a few seconds.

"Shen Heting is your maternal grandfather. He is not related to your father by blood."

"So you're not of the Lin family bloodline. You're of the Shen family." Lin Ye stood up. "I'm Shen Heting's grandson. I have the Shen family bloodline."

Chen Xuan stared at him for a long time.

Are you sure you want to go?

"Sure."

"When?"

"Now."

Chen Xuan took out a silver-white anchor from the drawer, unlike any anchor Lin Ye had seen before. It was larger and thicker, and the runes on its surface were not engraved but embedded—silver metal wires coiled into a complex pattern on the surface of the anchor, resembling a tree, a river, or a person's fingerprint.

"This is Shen Heting's anchor point. He left it to me before he left. He said, 'If one day someone comes looking for you with this anchor point, take them to that coordinate.'" Chen Xuan placed the anchor point on the table. "I've waited twenty-one years. You're the first."

Lin Ye picked up the anchor point. It was heavier than a regular anchor point, feeling substantial in his hand, like holding a heart. The metal was cool, but not the coolness of an inanimate object; it was the coolness of a stone that had been submerged at the bottom of a river for a long time, its surface water wiped dry, but still cool inside.

"He waited for me for twenty-one years," Lin Ye said.

"He's not waiting for you. He's waiting for 'someone.' He doesn't know who it will be. Maybe it's you, maybe it's someone else. He's just leaving it as a possibility."

Lin Ye put the anchor point into his pocket.

"Su Wanning, come with me."

Does she know?

"I don't know. But if I go, she'll know."

Chen Xuan looked at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"You're becoming more and more like your father."

"How is it similar?"

"I never listen to other people's opinions when making decisions."

Lin Ye walked out of the office and ran into Su Wanning in the corridor. She was holding a cup of coffee, wearing a thin white jacket, and her hair was tied in a ponytail. When she saw Lin Ye's expression, she didn't ask "What's wrong?", but simply walked up to him and handed him the coffee.

"What did Captain Chen say to you?"

"My grandfather's coordinates. I want to go there."

"I'll go with you."

Do you know where to go?

"I don't know. But wherever you go, I'll go."

Lin Ye looked at her. The corridor light reflected two small points of light in her eyes.

"It could be very dangerous."

"You wouldn't have called me if it wasn't dangerous."

Lin Ye didn't speak. He reached out and took Su Wanning's hand. Her hand was cool, his was warm. In the warm yellow light of the corridor, the two temperatures clashed, inseparable.

Autumn leaves lit up on Lin Ye's wrist. The pale blue light turned deep blue, like the night sky. It was learning. Learning how humanity faces the unknown—without fear, without retreat, without hesitation. Simply holding another person's hand, walking into the darkness.

In the afternoon, Lin Ye went to Gu Yan's room. His consciousness projection was leaning against the window reading a book—not a real book, but one he simulated with his consciousness. The cover read "The Theory of Dream Rules," and the author was Lin Yuanzhou. It was written three thousand years ago, a handwritten copy, and there were only three copies in the world. One was in Lin Yuanzhou's possession, one in Lin Yuanshan's possession, and one was sealed within the World Tree. The copy in Gu Yan's possession was one he had reconstructed using memories from fragments of his consciousness.

"You need to go find Shen Heting." Gu Yan didn't look up.

"Did Captain Chen tell you?"

"No. I was just guessing." Gu Yan closed the "book," turned around, and looked at Lin Ye. "To get to that coordinate, you need the level of a Dream Domain Overlord. You're currently at 47% of the Scroll level, which is one major realm short. At your current speed, it will take at least two more months."

"I can't wait two months."

"So how do you plan to get in?"

"Shen Heting was at the early stage of the Dream Domain Dominator when he went in. But before he went in, he stayed near that coordinate for three days. During those three days, he kept recording the surrounding environment. Not the terrain, not the weather, but the 'rules'." Lin Ye took out a piece of paper from his pocket, given to him by Chen Xuan, which was densely covered with numbers and symbols. "He broke down the rule structure around that coordinate into seven layers. Each layer requires a specific consciousness frequency to pass through. The first layer is the Lin family's frequency, the second layer is the Shen family's frequency, and the third layer is—"

He paused for a moment.

"What is it?" Gu Yan asked.

"It's the frequency of autumn leaves."

Gu Yan looked at him, then at the autumn leaf on Lin Ye's wrist. The deep blue light suddenly brightened when it heard its own name, like someone whose name was suddenly called in the darkness.

"Does Qiuye have a conscious frequency?" Gu Yan asked.

"Yes. Three thousand years ago, when the first generation of Night Watchers separated it, they inscribed a portion of the rules into its consciousness. Those rules included the entrance to the World Tree, the structure of the seal, and the conditions for passing through that coordinate." Lin Ye looked down at the autumn leaf on his wrist. "It doesn't know. It had been asleep until recently. But those rules have always been within it, like words carved in stone, unyielding to the wind and unwashed by the rain."

The colors of the autumn leaves began to change. From deep blue to purple, from purple to gold, from gold to translucent. It was searching its own memories, three thousand years of memories, like a vast library, bookshelves stretching from the ground to an unseen dome. It ran between rows of bookshelves, searching for a word called "coordinates." It ran for a long time, so long that its color turned gray, like ashes about to be extinguished.

Then it found it.

A burst of light exploded on Lin Ye's wrist. It wasn't gold, blue, or purple; it was a color Lin Ye had never seen before—like the aurora borealis, like a rainbow, like all colors appearing and disappearing simultaneously. In that instant, a coordinate system flooded into Lin Ye's consciousness. Not numbers, not symbols, but a "location." Deep within the World Tree, deeper than any seal, farther than any known region. There was no light, no sound, no fluctuation of consciousness. Like a black hole in the universe, everything that went in could never come out.

But Qiu Ye knew how to get in. Not by rank, but by "frequency." The first level was the Lin family's frequency, the second was the Shen family's frequency, the third was Qiu Ye's frequency, and the fourth level—blank. Not that it didn't exist, but it was "unknown." Shen Heting's records only went up to the third level; he didn't write about the fourth. Maybe he got in, maybe he didn't. Maybe he wrote it, but the paper was lost. Maybe he deliberately didn't write it because he couldn't bear to write the frequency required for the fourth level.

Lin Ye opened his eyes. The autumn leaves had regained their color, changing from gray back to deep blue, like the night sky. They were trembling, very rapidly, like someone shivering in the cold wind.

"What frequency is needed for the fourth layer?" Lin Ye asked.

Qiu Ye remained silent for a long time.

"You need to 'lose'," it says. "Not losing a thing, but losing a person. Someone you truly care about. Someone you'd be willing to give up yourself for. Only those who have experienced that kind of loss can pass the fourth level."

Lin Ye's fingers tightened slightly.

"Shen Heting passed the fourth level. Whom did he lose?"

The autumn leaves turned gray, like ashes.

"He lost your mother. Not death, but 'acceptance.' He accepted that his daughter would leave this world before him. That kind of acceptance is more painful than death."

Lin Ye didn't speak. He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the sky outside. It was already dark, the streetlights were on, and their orange light cast a blurry halo on the glass. His shadow was reflected on the glass, overlapping with the city night view outside the window, like a person standing between two worlds.

"Can I get through the fourth level?" he asked.

Autumn Leaf didn't answer. It didn't know. It only knew that the fourth level required "loss," but it didn't know if Lin Ye had ever lost anything. He lost his father—but his father was still alive, only his consciousness was dormant. He lost his mother—but he had never seen her, and he didn't feel anything about losing her. What had he lost? Something he truly cared about, something he was willing to give up for, something that, once lost, could never be regained?

Su Wanning stood at the door, listening for an unknown amount of time. She was wearing a light blue nightgown, her hair loose, and she wasn't wearing shoes. She stared at Lin Ye's back for a long time. Then she went over and hugged him from behind. Her arms encircled his waist, her face pressed against his back. Her body was cool, his body was warm. The cool against the warm, like a snowflake falling on warm skin, slowly melting.

"You don't need to go through the fourth level," she said, her voice muffled against his back, "because I'll be with you. The third level is the frequency of autumn leaves, the fourth level—we'll go through it together. It's not about losing, it's about 'having.' To have someone, to be willing to go anywhere with them. That kind of having is more powerful than losing."

Lin Ye turned around and looked at her. Her eyes were bright, not from tears, but from the reflection of the streetlight in her pupils.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Sure."

"He might not be able to come back."

"Then I won't come back. As long as I'm with you, anywhere is fine."

Lin Ye looked at her, for a long time. Then he reached out and pressed her head against his chest. Her hair brushed against his chin, tickling him a little, but he didn't pull away. He held her, like holding a dream that might vanish at any moment. But her hands were cold, her body warm, her breath hot. She was real. She was here. She was willing to go anywhere with him, including that place they might never return to.

Autumn leaves lit up between their bodies. The deep blue light turned golden, like ginkgo leaves in autumn. It was learning. Learning how humans face loss—not by running away, not by pretending nothing's wrong, but by holding on tightly. Knowing that loss is possible, it cherishes the present even more. Now, she's in its arms. Now, its hands are warm. Now, its breath is hot. Now, that's enough.