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Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 85 - 82: Dream into Dream
Chapter 85: Chapter 82: Dream into Dream
Zhou Xuan listened more and became clearer, he seemed to have tasted the flavor.
"You still want to have a look? Lao Yuan, oh Lao Yuan, no wonder you’re in such a hurry to test me. Turns out, you want to steal... eh...steal a disciple!"
"Nonsense... how can it be stealing in a storyteller’s business?" Yuan Buyu’s face blushed bright red as Zhou Xuan pointed out the truth.
Zhou Xuan spread his arms and said, "We’re master and disciple, we can talk about any difficulties. There’s no need to beat around the bush..."
"Stop talking, let’s start practicing."
Yuan Buyu felt his face burning hot with embarrassment.
"Then Master, could you start by explaining what eight incense sticks are like?"
When Zhou Xuan referred to him as "Master," Yuan Buyu found it grating to his ears, wondering if his disciple was being sarcastic.
Even with a thick face, he said, "Well, the technique of eight incense sticks is called Dream into Dream!
You enter my consciousness through a dream, gain Insight into my thoughts and fears, and then plant a small dream within my consciousness. Whenever you wish, you can detonate this small dream."
"This sounds quite impressive, doesn’t it?"
"That’s from your perspective," Yuan Buyu said. "For a master of eight incense sticks, they are not far from God. The Incense Fire Level is too high, the body has few weaknesses, and the spirit and mind are strong enough.
Their only weakness lies in their consciousness. The fast flow of consciousness always leads to minor flaws, which might be captured by a storyteller’s dream, allowing infiltration..."
"So it’s a high-level trick? Though it seems to work well even at lower levels."
Zhou Xuan felt that this technique, when not having sufficient Incense Fire Level, might be even more effective than the likes such as "God entering the dream."
He began to construct a dream within his heart.
Yuan Buyu, on the other hand, closed his eyes, waiting for good news, but heard no major movement. He heard the sounds of birds and waves, but not the sensation of a dream penetrating his consciousness.
"Master, I’m afraid it won’t work."
After nearly half an hour of trying, Zhou Xuan was at a loss on how to push a dream into Yuan Buyu’s consciousness.
"This technique of eight incense sticks is too abstract!" Zhou Xuan asked Yuan Buyu, "Can you give me some guidance? We can’t just sit around."
Yuan Buyu looked up at the sky and said, "I would like to guide you, but I can’t. The Dream into Dream technique hasn’t been seen for three hundred years."
After researching for another half an hour and still clueless about the key to ’Dream into Dream,’ Yuan Buyu also got discouraged: "I’m afraid we won’t figure it out. You should have enough incense, but you can’t grasp the knack of the technique."
"Lao Yuan, don’t get worked up, I feel that some things depend on fate."
Zhou Xuan recalled the first time he used the "Stroll in the Courtyard" technique. At the time, Yuan Buyu hadn’t taught him that either; it’s when fate came, and thinking about visiting Little Fuzi in a dream, he spontaneously learned that technique.
"We can only wait."
Yuan Buyu sighed and then said through gritted teeth, "Just remember, once you comprehend the technique of eight incense sticks, you must demonstrate it before me."
He was only a thread away from seven incense sticks, that thread greatly in need of fortune.
Yuan Buyu always felt that observing the eighth incense technique would be his chance for promotion.
As he said, even if the eight incense technique was merely a form in Zhou Xuan’s execution, he could still gain something from it.
And with that little gain, he would be able to break through the shackles in his heart and advance to seven incense sticks.
...
Master and disciple left the field together. On their way, Zhou Xuan thought of the advancement ceremony hinted at in the secret realm and asked, "Lao Yuan, I’ve had a premonition of promotion after burning the eight inches of incense."
"It’s normal to have premonitions after the eight inches of incense."
"But the content isn’t normal."
"What’s the premonition?" asked Yuan Buyu.
"From death comes life," Zhou Xuan said.
"Sounds ominous. Are there any predictions in your dreams? Usually, for significant events like promotion, the dream will align with the premonition from the secret realm."
"Predictions are more or less the same, also about going from death to life," Zhou Xuan concealed the actual content of the dream and directly presented the outcome.
Yuan Buyu shook his head, saying, "Can’t figure it out... But there’s no need to guess, nor should it bother you. A premonition is just a premonition. Relying on premonitions to infer the result of a promotion ceremony often leads to misinterpretation and unnecessary worry.
As for me, keep accumulating incense, and when the time for promotion comes, the true answer will naturally reveal itself."
"Okay, I won’t think too much about it." Zhou Xuan forced a smile.
"I’m off to work in the kitchen," Yuan Buyu headed toward the kitchen.
"Don’t forget about tonight’s gathering, 7:30, I need your help," Zhou Xuan reminded Yuan Buyu.
Yuan Buyu raised his hand in a gesture to indicate that he remembered.
...
Zhou Xuan returned to his room, his mind empty of thoughts and actions, just sitting on the bed in a daze.
He could not do as Yuan Buyu said, "Don’t take it to heart,"
because someone who had died once would understand the terror of death and the preciousness of rebirth more than an ordinary person.
"If rebirth after death could truly be achieved, would my new life after dying still be with the Zhou Family’s Troupe? Or somewhere else?"
Zhou Xuan was unsure.
Death is the unknown, just like how he could not have imagined ending up in Jing Country after his first death.
"The Zhou Family’s Troupe is becoming increasingly dear to me, my sister, master, eldest senior brother, fifth senior brother, eldest brother’s wife, and Little Fuzi..."
The images of these people appeared one by one before his eyes, filling his heart with reluctance to let go.
"Perhaps it really is a misunderstanding."
Zhou Xuan started to try and comfort himself, "First, deal with the writing of Liang Zhi... The only solution to worries is to carry on writing Liang Zhi."
He picked up his pen, noticing some clutter on his desk, and after organizing it for a while, he put back the books he had flipped through the past two days, and even the diary of the former owner was neatly placed at the right corner of the desk. Only then did he unfold his notebook and begin to write Liang Zhi.
He no longer needed to rush the progress of "The White-Browed Hero," as the yellow-skinned ones had not come to listen to the storytelling session the day before, he would use yesterday’s Liang Zhi for the storytelling at Lotus Temple.
It wasn’t for the sake of being lazy... uh... not just for that!
These few episodes of Liang Zhi happened to continue from where the group of yellow-skinned ones had heard the story last, retelling it would make it easier for them to get engaged.
"The main issue is the Liang Zhi for Lady Lianhua, this piece is a bit troubling..."
Zhou Xuan started brainstorming.
Since Lady Lianhua had profound Buddha nature, perhaps he could create some Liang Zhi with a "Buddha" theme?
"No, that wouldn’t work. Precisely because her Buddha nature is profound, making the Buddha the main theme of Liang Zhi would be like teaching fish to swim, time to think in another direction."
As Zhou Xuan racked his brain to the point of frustration, a conversation from outside the window caught his attention.
His room’s window faced the pavilion in the courtyard.
At the moment, three teachers from the Jingyi Room were playing chess and chatting in the pavilion.
Zhou Xuan liked quietness, especially when he was thinking, and he planned to change rooms to write Liang Zhi. He had just started packing his things when he sat down again, realizing the content of the teachers’ conversation was quite interesting.
"We won’t be able to listen to the Young Master telling stories for the next few days, it’s going to be boring again."
"Even before, we couldn’t listen; we start work at night, and the Young Master tells stories in the evening, we can’t make it."
"Let me tell you, forget about listening to the stories. In a few days, we’ll definitely get a raise."
"Why?"
"The Young Master is telling stories to Lady Lianhua. If Lady Lianhua is pleased and with so many followers under her, if she casually channels some business to our troupe, our income could increase several times. Our Class Leader is fair; whenever there’s an income increase, doesn’t he give us a raise?"
"This time, we really have to thank the Young Master."
Zhou Xuan felt a sense of comfort listening to this.
He remembered when he first joined the Zhou Family’s Troupe; things were not like this. People avoided him like the plague; no one would greet him when they saw him, and some even talked about him behind his back.
Now he had become extremely popular with the masters and apprentices in the troupe, with many avid fans of storytelling. Even when he ate breakfast, there were apprentices who would come over to chat with him about "The White-Browed Hero," calling him "Young Master" with great affection.
Times have changed.
The more it was like this, the more Zhou Xuan was unwilling to part with the Zhou Family’s Troupe.
The three teachers outside the window kept chatting.
"Speaking of which, have you seen that Lady Lianhua who asked the Young Master to tell stories?"
"I haven’t seen her."
"I have."
"What does she look like?"
"You know the yellow-skinned ones, right? They already look quite hateful, but Lady Lianhua, she is the ugliest of the yellow-skinned ones, unspeakably ugly, anyone who sees her feels distressed.
And precisely because of her appearance, even now with her esteemed Buddha name, there are still common folks in Ping Shui Prefecture who secretly curse her."
"What do they say?"
"They say she’s a demon in an ugly skin... Of course, they only dare to whisper such things hidden in their homes, if the followers of Lady Lianhua found out, they would skin them alive."
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