Chapter 83: A Dream, Unreal and Fleeting
Xiao Tingyun heard Meng Xueli’s words, and his breath caught in his chest—he broke into a fit of coughing.
Meng Xueli’s heart lurched. This was bad. Ever since Tingyun had come to Changchun Peak, his cough had almost completely healed, yet now he was coughing again. Meng Xueli had been confident he could break through his bottleneck before the enemy arrived, and then easily repel them. But he had been careless after all. He regretted it bitterly.
Clutching Hundred Generations of Time, Meng Xueli leapt from the sunken courtyard, landing in front of Xiao Tingyun. His heart and eyes were filled with nothing but his pale-faced, coughing disciple, and he did not even glance at the Zhou elder lying collapsed dozens of zhang away in the shattered forest.
Ji Xiao gave a small smile, trying to soothe his worried, furious little companion: “I’m fine.”
Meng Xueli, “You go and rest! I’ll deal with them!”
The tension among the black-cloaked group grew heavier.
From deep within the forested slope came the wretched roar of the Zhou elder: “Impossible! He’s not Xiao Tingyun! He—he must be a demon too! Quick, seize them both and hand them over to the Daoist Revered for judgment!”
Their earlier failure to slay the mirage beast had been blamed on a peacock demon’s interference. Yun Xuzi had reported to Daoist Revered Tai Heng that Meng Xueli was not a solitary demon—he had aid, and that aid was a peacock. Peacock demons were said in legends to excel at transformation and disguise. Now, after Xiao Tingyun had just displayed strength beyond his supposed level, the Zhou elder immediately concluded that it was no disciple at all, but the great peacock demon in disguise—baiting him into lowering his guard, then striking with a single devastating blow.
What he did not know was that, ever since Meng Xueli had begun competing in the duels, Que Xianming had found battles of this level far too dull, and could not even be bothered to watch. He had wandered off to the stream to roast fish with his demonfire instead.
The Zhou family disciples obeyed their elder’s command and charged down the slope toward the courtyard.
Since Ning Wei had not spoken, the cultivators of Mingyue Lake held their ground, watching silently from the sidelines.
Ning Wei’s eyes, however, were fixed on the sky. There was a line etched across it.
Meng Xueli stood protectively before Xiao Tingyun, swept his spear in an arc of light, and knocked aside three men in succession. As he swung, something pricked at his senses, and he too suddenly lifted his gaze heavenward.
His long hair streamed in the wind, clouds surged, sunlight flickered in and out, and shadows danced across the ground. Yet no matter how swiftly the clouds shifted, one line in the sky never moved. It cut across half the firmament, like a meteor streaking through the heavens—borne upon cloud, carrying the azure sky itself.
Following that line down to the earth, it pointed directly at the shattered grove and crater where the Zhou elder had been struck down.
Meteors did not appear in broad daylight. This was the trace of sword qi.
That streak of sword qi struck Meng Xueli’s heart like a thunderclap. Sword force that could take shape and wound from afar was absolutely beyond Xiao Tingyun’s current cultivation. He snapped his head around, staring at his disciple in shock.
A wild, impossible thought was already taking shape in his mind.
Ji Xiao asked gently, “What is it?”
Meng Xueli turned his eyes away, whirling his spear in a storm of light, but his lashes trembled faintly damp.
He dared not think deeper, afraid it would dissolve like mist, no more than an illusion, a dream.
—“Ji Xiao truly had not died. He still lived in this world, silently watching over me and Tingyun.”
In the heavens, the sword mark slowly faded.
Meanwhile, young cultivators who had been sitting in meditation within the spectator’s circle began waking from their states of insight.
These proud, confident prodigies had, over the past two days, first been dispirited by the gulf between themselves and Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun. But after the sting came fresh resolve. With renewed determination, they had sorted through their realizations: those at mid-stage breakthrough had advanced to late stage; those at completion had brushed against the threshold of the Hinayana Realm.
Now, their spirits were high, their energies balanced—at their very peak, ready to fight across realms. Opening their eyes, they saw the black-cloaked figures swarming toward the courtyard, and were startled. To them, it looked as if the newcomers had come to challenge the dueling ground. But how could there be so many? In this secret realm, each squad was only five or six people at most. For so many to rush in at once—there was no way this was proper.
They had all just spent days watching Meng Xueli’s duels, listening to Xiao Tingyun’s explanations, discussing sword arts together. Though strangers from different sects, they felt some bond of kindred spirit. So they leapt from the circle, flying into the fray.
“What sect are you from? Why don’t you wait your turn?”
“Trying to take advantage while we’re weak, to wipe us out in one strike? What a vile scheme!”
In moments, Meng Xueli found himself with no opponents left to fight. He thought, Well, this was just as good—everyone had just broken through, the perfect chance to stretch their limbs and sharpen their combat sense.
Magic tools of every shape filled the air, dazzling lights flashing through dust and smoke, techniques of every sect blooming brilliantly.
Booming explosions shook the mountainside, steel clashed in crisp rings, and shouted challenges echoed without end.
One side shouted: “This Meng Xueli is not human, and Xiao Tingyun isn’t either! They’re demons in human form, endangering the mortal world! Everyone, seize them together!”
The other side shouted back: “Stop spouting nonsense! Even if the Heavenly King himself came, he’d still have to wait in line!”
Neither side understood what the other was yelling. They fought fiercely, tangled in confusion, and the scene descended into utter chaos.
The Zhou family elders were even more bewildered. Since when did these young cultivators become so troublesome? And what in the world is this business about lining up?
Ning Wei pointed out several Mingyue Lake disciples who had already entered the Hinayana Realm. “Go test that circle.”
The circle Xiao Tingyun had drawn looked completely ordinary. The disciples who had come to spar with Meng Xueli had assumed it was simply for gathering the crowd, making it easier to explain the battle.
At that moment, the young disciples who were still meditating remained seated inside the circle, entirely unaware of the chaos raging outside. Smoke and dust billowed, boulders crashed down—but as soon as they crossed the circle’s boundary, they were sliced into powder. Among those inside, the most advanced—such as Cui Jing and Jing Di—were only a hair’s breadth away from breaking through, attempting to step into the Hinayana Realm. Their process simply took longer than the rest.
The enemy tried to break into the circle. But above its edge, it was as if an invisible blade hovered at all times, cutting apart anything that came near—whether a severed arm, half a sword blade, or even a spell attack. For a moment, the circle’s inside and outside became two entirely separate worlds: one of calm and safety, the other of chaos and bloodshed. The contrast was eerie to the extreme.
The disciples of Mingyue Lake who witnessed this strange, ruthless method felt a chill at heart, a flicker of fear and retreat stirring within them.
But the disciples who had once stepped inside the circle could move in and out freely, able to advance or retreat at will. The longer they fought, the braver they became. Half a cup of tea later, Cui Jing and Jing Di both broke through, and the pressure on the black-cloaked attackers suddenly multiplied.
The Zhou family elder had originally thought that, with their numbers and higher cultivation, Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun could not withstand them. After all, two fists could not beat four hands. And once the situation was explained, perhaps these disciples might even help capture Meng Xueli. But now the melee was beyond his control, he himself was injured and unable to fight, and the Mingyue Lake youth showed no intention of lending full support. The situation looked dire. He had no choice but to give the order: “Retreat!”
The black-cloaked men wasted no time, retreating swiftly into the mountains and forests. Ning Wei cast one final glance at the sky. Where he looked, the sword’s trace had completely faded.
The young disciples still brimmed with fighting spirit, but Meng Xueli knew the truth: their victory had been gained on momentum alone. Once that fire cooled, once the enemy regrouped, the suppression of higher cultivation would inevitably reappear.
He raised his voice: “Do not pursue!”
The young disciples stopped at once when they heard Meng Xueli’s command. Compared to the mysterious, suddenly-appearing black cloaks shouting for blood, they trusted the man who had answered their questions, guarded the gates, and helped them break through far more—Meng Xueli, together with Xiao Tingyun.
Aside from Jing Di’s teammates, such as Song Qianyi, who had a vague idea of the circumstances, most disciples, though they had fought to their hearts’ content, were utterly confused. They now gathered together, reviewing details of the battle, and the more they thought about it, the more wrong it seemed. Voices rose in discussion:
“What were those people even here for? They didn’t seem like contestants. From their voices, they definitely weren’t young…”
“The one I fought was actually in the Hinayana Realm! I’ve never heard of any sect sending disciples of that level into this competition!”
“Someone among them shouted, calling himself an elder of Han Shan. Hey—you from Han Shan, what’s going on in your sect?”
Cui Jing frowned. “I don’t know.”
Several Han Shan disciples present were also unaware of the upheaval in Jingsi Valley—that their sect had already split into two factions. They too were deeply puzzled. Among them, the more perceptive faintly guessed at the truth, and their hearts grew heavier.
Ji Xiao shook his head helplessly. “Han Shan has no such elder.”
Meng Xueli met his eyes. Ji Xiao gave a small nod, silently lending support to his Dao companion.
So Meng Xueli gathered the disciples and spoke gravely: “You all saw it. There are those who are violating the rules of this competition. The situation is unusual—this Hanhai Grand Competition cannot continue as normal. Some of you may have already been warned by your sect elders: leave early, do not stay until the final three days…”
The crowd broke into an uproar. Disciples from the great sects looked at one another in shock and confusion.
“My master really did mention it.”
“My master said nothing—I had no idea!”
“Actually, before our team came to the courtyard, we were at the northern teleportation array. We found it broken, we couldn’t leave. Then we happened to hear Elder Meng’s voice amplified through a formation. That’s why we came here, to see what was happening.”
“How bizarre! Once we leave this secret realm, I’ll definitely get to the bottom of it!”
Meng Xueli “The safest method now is for everyone to stay together, not split up. I’ll take you out. This secret realm was opened by my Dao companion. I know there’s another teleportation array hidden in the central city—it leads to the exit.”
Someone suddenly realized: “So Elder Meng, when you called out that challenge with the amplifying formation, it was for this reason?”
Meng Xueli smiled faintly. “The method wasn’t elegant, but it worked.”
The group set off in great numbers, heading toward the palace complex of the central city. Although the matter was suspicious and a conspiracy loomed in the background, the young cultivators had just enjoyed a victorious battle and, buoyed by the thrill of their breakthroughs, most believed that as long as they safely exited the secret realm and reconnected with the outside world, the truth would naturally come to light.
They thought Meng Xueli would leave with them. That everyone’s journey in the secret realm would end ahead of schedule.
Jing Di’s squad, who knew the most, were also the most troubled. They marched in heavy silence. Especially Jing Di—on his face there was no trace of joy at his breakthrough.
When the stone palaces of the central city appeared before them, Jing Di suddenly spoke:
“For your guidance, for standing guard for us—I will never forget. No matter my sect’s stance, in this lifetime I will never raise arms against Changchun Peak.”
He spoke cautiously, leaving room. Han Shan was vast and deeply rooted, with many factions. But Changchun Peak held only three people.
Song Qianyi said, “Me too.”
The other disciples did not understand the full context. They were simply grateful to Meng Xueli and Xiao Tingyun, and one after another declared: “We will not forget this kindness. We will never fight against Changchun Peak.”
But Meng Xueli shook his head. “No. What I hope is that when you return, you forget everything that happened in this secret realm—and just focus on cultivating well.”
Author’s Note: Belated Happy New Year~
Meng Xueli returned to the dorm, with Que Xianming chasing after him, asking:
“How was your first in-person meeting? What did the top player in the entire server look like? Did you take any photos?”
Meng Xueli’s face was flushed red. He hurriedly washed up, crawled into his bed, and buried himself under the covers without saying a word, performing a live demonstration of shutting down on the spot.
After a short while, Que Xianming heard his muffled voice coming from deep inside the blankets: “I’m finished.”
Que Xianming was dying of curiosity. “How are you finished? What, is he really some fat otaku shut-in?”
Meng Xueli thought to himself: I was terrible today. I couldn’t speak properly, my words were a complete mess. Xiao Tingyun probably didn’t even want to listen, he was just forcing himself to stay polite while silently dissing me in his heart.
Suddenly his phone vibrated. Meng Xueli’s heart surged with excitement—he grabbed it up only to see that it was just the weather forecast. He couldn’t help but let out a wail.
He opened Xiao Tingyun’s chat window on X-message, struggling with what to write. He typed “Did you get home? Be careful on the road,” then deleted it. He replaced it with “Thank you for taking care of me today,” typed and deleted again and again, and in the end sent only a cat head-tilt sticker.
Que Xianming watched and felt his teeth ache. “Yeah, you’re finished.”
On the other side, Hu Si was pressing Xiao Tingyun for details about his first meeting. After listening, Hu Si solemnly declared: “You’re finished.”
Xiao Tingyun was confused.
Hu Si explained: “You asked him out, and then stayed silent the whole time? What was that supposed to mean? There’s not going to be a next time. Just wait—he’s going to delete you from his friends list.”
Xiao Tingyun, “I didn’t know what to say. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. I just wanted to listen to him talk.”
Hu Si, “Then fix it! Send him a message right now!”
Xiao Tingyun picked up his phone and suddenly saw that on Meng Xueli’s chat box it showed: ‘The other party is typing…’
He held the phone in both hands, waiting for the message.
After a long wait, what came through was a sticker—and a single line: “Are you home?”
Xiao Tingyun typed back: “I’m home.”
Meng Xueli jumped out of bed, shook Que Xianming’s shoulders wildly, and shouted: “He replied instantly! I’m not finished!”
Que Xianming nearly vomited from all the shaking.
When Meng Xueli finally finished bouncing around and grabbed his phone again—
Xiao Tingyun had written: “I’m glad I met you. Can we meet again in the future?”
Meng Xueli nearly strangled Que Xianming with excitement, then restrained himself and typed back very demurely: “Sure.”
Because “Spirit Mountain King” had been banned for a week for cheating, his livestream couldn’t continue. His fans were left starving, wailing in the forums, and endlessly mocking his gaudy, dyed, multicolored hair.
“First day without Spirit Mountain King—already miss him!”
Meng Xueli also missed them. Logging into Sword Out of Han Shan every day had already become a habit. Without playing, even food didn’t taste good.
Seeing this, Que Xianming helped him register a small alternate account. This time the race was human, and the ID was left to Meng Xueli to choose. He set it as ‘Ji Xiao’s Dao Companion’.
Que Xianming: “Ugh!”
With a new account, Meng Xueli happily opened X-message to contact Ji Xiao: “Add me, add me! I changed accounts!”—attaching a cute sticker.
His new character stood on the stone bridge in Hanmen City, waiting for Ji Xiao to come out of Han Shan Sword Sect.
When Ji Xiao logged in and saw Meng Xueli’s ID, he couldn’t help but smile.
Ji Xiao: “Want to do the New Year’s event together?”
Ji Xiao’s Dao Companion: “Sure.”
But since his alt account’s level was too low, Ji Xiao first took him to grind experience. They rode swords through the skies, showing off across the entire map.
The forum quickly exploded with a headline post: “Shocking! The number one player in the server is actually a two-timer. ‘Spirit Mountain King’ got banned, and Sword Sovereign Ji Xiao has already found a new flame! Only the newcomer’s smile is heard, the old one’s tears unseen. Evidence with pictures!”
The final picture showed the two of them accepting the New Year couple’s quest at the peak of Snow Mountain.
Compared to the majestic white-haired demon king image of “Spirit Mountain King,” this little human account—designed by Que Xianming according to his own tastes—looked like a pitiful delicate white flower, carrying the ID ‘Ji Xiao’s Dao Companion’, glaringly conspicuous and inviting hatred.
The forums instantly blew up. Ji Xiao fans, Spirit Mountain King fans, and JiXue CP fans clashed in a chaotic war.
“555 JiXue shippers are crying themselves blind! Yesterday sweet, today a knife to the heart!”
“CP fans have no rights, shut up. Honestly, the King’s playstyle was too flashy, he must’ve gotten himself banned with hacks.”
“That’s rich coming from Ji’s solo stans. Gaudy hacks are no excuse for two-timing scumbaggery.”
“How is it scumbaggery? It was just a Christmas event quest, no confirmed relationship. Sword Sovereign, look at me! Do the Spring Festival quest with me next time!”
Meng Xueli hadn’t even checked the forums yet when he suddenly received a flood of arena challenge letters. Ever since his main account had become famous, he hadn’t been challenged this brazenly before. His fighting spirit roared to life.
He messaged Ji Xiao privately: “Want to watch me fight? I fight really well.”
After ten consecutive matches, showing off to his heart’s content, he finally noticed Que Xianming’s private message and suddenly realized: “No more, no more!”
He quickly sent Ji Xiao a message: “I’m going live now to explain to my fans.”
Ji Xiao: “Mm.”
Meng Xueli opened his stream and spun his “Ji Xiao’s Dao Companion” avatar in two circles: “This is my alt account.”
Because of his main account’s connection with Ji Xiao, the viewers skyrocketed. The fans once again exploded.
“So it’s like this!”
“Another way to show off your relationship! Reported!”
Meng Xueli’s face turned faintly red. “This is my Dao companion.”
Amazingly, Xiao Tingyun was very cooperative. Ji Xiao even made his avatar spin twice as well.
On screen, Ji Xiao’s Dao Companion and Ji Xiao stood in the central courtyard of the main city, spinning in circles together.
Meng Xueli blushed from his ears down to his neck: “I’m going to have dinner with my Dao companion now. Happy New Year, everyone.”
The fans were unwilling, shouting for Spirit Mountain King not to run after school.
“I want to hear Sword Sovereign’s voice!”
“Sword Sovereign, turn on your mic! +1!”
Ji Xiao sent Meng Xueli a voice message on X-message. Meng Xueli happily listened once to himself, then turned up the volume and played it out loud for the fans:
“Happy New Year.”
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
