Chapter 13: Entering the Dream
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Only then did Lu Sheng realize that the fortune teller was a fraud, thankfully revealed by three Taoist priests. Upon returning to the inn, he found the main hall piled high with gifts: lambs, geese, coins, and silk, all prepared for the wedding ceremony. The princess’s grand entourage, musical instruments, chariots, and ceremonial offerings were all meticulously arranged.
Before the grand marriage, more visitors arrived, claiming to be the bridegroom’s attendants. Lu Pei recognized them immediately—they were the same people he had seen at the palace gate, his fellow townsmen from Xiangzhou, with whom the Lu family had prior connections. He welcomed them personally.
He also had a vague understanding of their true intentions.
A faint sense of satisfaction stirred in his heart as he greeted them calmly and without haste.
...
...
Jiang She stood in the courtyard, accompanied only by Li Bai and the old Mountain Spirit. The others were sprawled across the ground, half-asleep as if drugged, drifting in and out of meetings with the Duke of Zhou. Even Yuan Danqiu was softly snoring.
The moon had risen to its zenith.
Li Bai’s eyes had inexplicably sharpened, allowing him to see clearly in the dark. Though he occasionally glimpsed terrifying spirits, his vision was far better than before.
He knew these changes were brought about by Jiang She’s influence.
Truly, a celestial art...
Li Bai gazed around the courtyard.
Yuan Danqiu was sound asleep, even snoring, likely his throat ailment still unresolved. Master Meng lay nearby under a tree, insects crawling toward his head. Above both of them floated the ghost of a hanged man. Fortunately, they could not see it, or waking to find a ghostly tongue hovering over their heads would surely frighten them to death.
Lu Da also had fallen asleep, and even the group of swindling Taoists prostrated on the ground with eyes closed were deeply slumbering. The six or seven guests, three to five servants, doctors, apothecaries, and even the convalescing Lady Lu at the seat all had their eyes shut.
They were entering a dream woven by immortals.
What was it like?
For a moment, Li Bai’s curiosity was piqued; he longed to know what would unfold within this dream.
He also wondered,
What would each of them gain upon awakening?
“To suddenly comprehend a lifetime here is an extraordinary opportunity...” The old Mountain Spirit of Lu Deer Mountain expressed a mixture of envy and melancholy.
Jiang She surveyed the group.
“Those who achieve it will be few, very few,” he said.
Dozens lay scattered on the ground—humble servants and celebratory guests sharing one dream. In this realm, there was no distinction of age, rank, good or evil; they lived an entire lifetime. Those who could extract meaning from it were exceedingly rare.
Rivers gather water to become a stream; the waters flow endlessly by day. The world observes people and becomes the world, people fade as dusk falls. How can the world remain unchanged? How can people remain the same?
How many can awaken through lifetimes?
Even one would earn Jiang She’s high regard.
He glanced at the man and the spirit beside him, both wearing expressions of wonder.
Jiang She pondered, then invited, “Tai Bai, Mountain Spirit, would you both like to come with me to take a look?”
Li Bai, bored, scanned his surroundings, then suddenly his eyes shone brightly.
Clear and sharp.
...
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The wind stirred the spring waters of the river, lantern lights flickering and flowing on the surface, passing countless homes. On both riverbanks, mountains stretched endlessly, with trees resembling willows planted alongside. Several people disembarked from a boat and followed the crowd toward the city gate.
Li Bai looked up.
The night was dark here; no moon was visible.
He gazed at the towering city walls, the mountains and rivers, the flora and pathways—all unlike the outside world.
“Where is this place?”
“The Ancient Pagoda Kingdom.”
Li Bai had never heard of such a land, thinking it must be a dreamland quite unlike Tang territory.
The old Mountain Spirit of Lu Deer Mountain scrutinized the surroundings carefully, as if discerning something. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he smiled at Li Bai’s curiosity but remained silent.
Once inside the dream,
Jiang She calculated the situation and smiled.
“Let’s go; we’ll meet them.”
He looked at the old Mountain Spirit. “Lu Sheng is in the eastern part of the city; let’s go see.”
The three walked together. Li Bai noticed their clothes subtly shifting as they walked, gradually resembling the attire of the travelers around them.
He observed the street scene.
The road was earthen and dusty. The buildings appeared oddly constructed, unlike anywhere else—strange yet intriguing.
A woman lowered her head, pulling her child’s hand to avoid a passing horse-drawn carriage. The child’s eyes were fixed on a nearby stall selling candied fruit, resisting the mother’s tug.
The carriage nearly brushed past a butcher, who raised his eyebrows, about to shout, but his companion holding a wine bottle grabbed his shoulder, seemingly persuading him to hold back.
The carriage’s lantern swayed as it rolled forward, leaving a trail of dust and faint wheel tracks on the ground.
There appeared to be no curfew here.
Li Bai suddenly realized something.
His face showed surprise.
“In this world, everyone is distinct, each with their own expressions. Could it be...”
“That this is all truly happening?”
The old Mountain Spirit smiled knowingly but said nothing.
Li Bai pondered. He glanced at Jiang She beside him but found himself at a loss for words.
To conjure such a vast dreamscape, with a straight path and thousands of passersby each unique in appearance and desire—
Is there such a method in the world?
This was something Li Bai had never heard of.
After a long moment, he gathered himself and pondered silently, unsure what to ask.
To be startled by this might seem narrow-minded.
It hardly suited the leisurely grace of a scholar like Jiang Langjun.
After some time, he finally asked one question.
“Where is Master Meng?”
“And Yuan Danqiu? What are they doing in the dream?”
“They’re at Lu Sheng’s place; you’ll see soon enough,” Jiang She replied.
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He seemed to know this dreamland, this Ancient Pagoda Kingdom, intimately.
The journey was short, though their walking was strange—covering several dozen feet in a few paces. Before Li Bai and the old Mountain Spirit could make sense of it, they arrived before a carved and painted building.
Jiang She pushed open the door.
Inside, lights blazed, jade towers resounded with drums and flutes, splendid and full of brilliance.
It felt like a dream.
Li Bai saw through the courtyard, winding paths leading to secluded spots, pavilions by the water, brilliantly lit within, lanterns streaming light, laughter and teasing endless.
Thousands of attendants wore phoenix crowns and golden robes, adorned with jade and gold ornaments, their eyes dazzled by the spectacle. They reveled in music and play, coming and going through the gates, vying to tease young Master Lu. Their demeanor was enchanting, their words clever; none could match them.
Is this the elegance and wealth of the human world?
Even Li Bai was momentarily stunned.
“Is this Lu Da?”
Lu Sheng sat on the balcony, leaning on the railing, gazing at the night. A finely dressed attendant poured wine beside him. Facing him were five or six red-robed attendants.
Yuan Danqiu was among them.
“Danqiu Sheng...” Li Bai murmured in admiration, then noticed a familiar figure seated on the right—a richly dressed man stroking the table, singing in rhythm with the zither within the pavilion.
“Master Meng...”
“Is this what they desire in their hearts?”
Jiang She considered.
“No.”
“This is what they lack in their current lives.”
Yuan Danqiu was a Taoist; he sought no wealth or official position in this life, yet in the dream, he aspired to be an official. Meng Haoran’s family was modest and he had not entered government service; in the dream, he was the Right Prime Minister, tasting the pleasures of fame and fortune.
Hearing this,
Li Bai watched Lu Pei on the balcony, served by beautiful women, savoring the zither and flute music, listening to fellow townsmen perform.
His gaze grew strange.
The old Mountain Spirit beside him said, “They seem unable to see the three of us.”
“Very good.”
Jiang She smiled faintly, pointing first to the Mountain Spirit, then to Li Bai, and finally to himself.
“We have not entered the dream.”
“We are still in the living world.”
“We are outsiders to this grand dream. Our movements and footsteps will go unnoticed.”
He added with a mischievous tone, self-deprecatingly,
“Do you know the trick of the parasitic worm entering a home without leaving a trace?”