Mu Yang awoke in the familiar manner once again.
This time, however, something felt off—an inexplicable sense of absurdity lingered in the air.
Why is the furniture arranged exactly like it was thousands of years later at Yilong Wharf?
Has the simulation ended here?
Mu Yang called out, testing the simplest method of verification.
"Guess it's not over yet."
He pushed open the door and stepped outside, the surroundings looking more and more like Yilong Wharf from millennia later. Google seaʀᴄh 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱
Yet, his mind felt hazy, unable to recall recent events clearly.
This was the first time something had happened.
A woman in white robes entered through the door. "Awake now?"
Yaojun blinked, then chuckled. "What's with that tone? Did you sleep too hard?"
"Today's the annual Toulong Ceremony—don't tell me you forgot."
She teased, "No wonder Fujin told me to remind you: 'Go wake up that sword-obsessed idiot before he actually forgets.'"
"Today's the Toulong Ceremony?"
Yaojun stepped closer, pressing a hand to Mu Yang's forehead.
"Don't tell me you've caught some mortal illness?"
Mu Yang wasn't sure either, only muttering that he might not have rested well.
Chenyu Vale had prospered greatly by now, and the Toulong Ceremony had grown even more grandiose.
In the distance, Mu Yang spotted familiar faces from the Guili Assembly—they had come to join the festivities.
"Well? Happy to see us? Surprised?"
Guizhong was as lively as ever.
Without waiting for an answer, she linked arms with Streetward Rambler and dashed off to explore the festival stalls, leaving the other adepti behind.
Morax and Azhdaha were deep in conversation with a jade craftsman, exchanging insights.
Meanwhile, Marchosius had already started helping street vendors light their stoves and prepare food.
Lingyuan popped up from the side. "Everyone's already here, but you're not the latest one."
Mu Yang glanced around—everyone who should be here was here.
The adepti from Mt. Aocang, even Xiao—unexpectedly, even Xiao had come.
Clarisse was likely preparing for the Toulong Ceremony with Fujin, hence her absence.
"Who's missing?" Mu Yang asked, puzzled.
Lingyuan grinned. "Of course, it's those two busybodies—Lumine and Paimon!"
"Lumine… and Paimon?"
"What's wrong with you today? You're acting weird," Yaojun frowned at him.
Mu Yang wanted to retort—shouldn't I be the one saying that?
How could you possibly know Lumine and Paimon right now?
And Xiao—the Archon War hadn't even started yet. Why would Xiao be here?
The fact that only Xiao came was suspicious in itself—shouldn't all five Yakshas arrive together?
This was a dream—one of Clarisse's divine domains.
She often wove pleasant dreams for the people of Chenyu Vale, granting them peaceful nights of sleep.
But Mu Yang was clearly an exception. He disliked this sensation—it felt like an invasion of his will.
"So it's a dream… No wonder Bosacius and the others aren't here. My memories of them are still too vague…"
"What are you mumbling about?" Lumine's voice cut in.
Mu Yang turned to see her and Paimon arriving at last.
Now he understood why they were late—they had been sneaking around preparing gifts.
Something about "it's our first Toulong Ceremony, we should bring presents to be polite."
Undoubtedly Paimon's terrible idea.
"Hehe, see, Lumine? My plan worked! You don't often see Mu Yang looking so touched."
Mu Yang's vision grew increasingly blurred, the voices of his friends fading into the distance…
Even after realizing it was a dream, everything felt so absurd, so unreal.
Yet, Mu Yang still wished to linger, if only for a little longer.
But dreams, after all, must end…
Mu Yang awoke—but he didn't open his eyes, instead pressing an arm over them.
"Unwilling to wake, are you?"
Mu Yang didn't answer.
Returning from the dream, he remembered how this had started—a small wager between the two of them.
Mu Yang had argued that willingly indulging in a beautiful dream despite knowing it was fake was pure self-deception.
So, Clarisse let him experience it firsthand.
Mu Yang had agreed—hence this entire scenario.
The outcome of the bet went without saying.
Even if Mu Yang wanted to stubbornly deny it, he couldn't.
Time accelerated to the next node.
The Archon War had begun.
In its early stages, Chenyu Vale remained peaceful—a veritable paradise untouched by conflict.
This surprised Mu Yang greatly.
He had once asked Clarisse about her stance, but she dodged the question, evading any clear answer.
Though the war hadn't reached Chenyu Vale, it had already divided Liyue into distinct factions.
The largest, of course, belonged to Morax and Guizhong—their territory stretched from Liyue Harbor northward to the Guili Plains.
The adepti's Mt. Aocang and Azhdaha's Tianqiu Valley naturally fell under Morax's domain.
Clarisse's territory encompassed all of Chenyu Vale, bordering Mt. Aocang.
The early Archon War wasn't particularly intense, so despite belonging to different factions,
Mu Yang and the others still visited Mt. Aocang for leisure.
Only the Guili Assembly and Liyue Harbor were off-limits—too distant, too perilous to travel.
Both Mu Yang and Clarisse vetoed any proposals to journey there.
Thus, Fujin and the others never once set foot in the Guili Assembly.
As for Mu Yang, his daily routine remained unchanged—mostly just hunting demonic beasts.
Clarisse, too, seemed unchanged from before the war, as if the conflict had nothing to do with her.
She continued guiding Chenyu Vale's people, lulling them to sleep with pleasant dreams.
This behavior left Mu Yang deeply perplexed.
Was Clarisse truly his enemy?
A benevolent god like her…
Why would she later choose to summon catastrophic floods, attempting to drown Chenyu Vale?
He couldn't make sense of it.
Lying in bed, Mu Yang pondered.
Clarisse was affectionate toward Fujin and the others, yet toward him, she held a trace of wariness.
Though she hid it well, Mu Yang could sense it.
Why did he make her cautious?
Unlikely. Clarisse was a god, and no pushover in battle—the outcome between them was uncertain.
But Mu Yang would probably still be slightly outmatched.
They sparred daily—Clarisse knew his swordsmanship inside out.
Mu Yang, however, knew nothing of her abilities beyond dream manipulation.
If not strength, then the only possibility was… his origins.
"Ugh, I should've just filled that part in myself…"
Lost in thought, Mu Yang drifted into a deep slumber.
Time accelerated once more…
At the next node, Clarisse sought him out.
She spoke of a foreboding premonition—something major was about to happen at the Guili Assembly.
When pressed, she only called it a prophetic dream, a matter on the level of gods.
Knowing Mu Yang had many friends there, Clarisse told him:
"If you wish to go, then go. I'll hold the fort here."
Mu Yang nodded and set off for the Guili Assembly, intent on uncovering the truth.
(Spoiler: Tomorrow, someone will die—a death that will accelerate Liyue's Archon War.)