Chapter 15: Forty Years in a Dream, Seven Days in the World

Everyone felt somewhat dazed.

They gazed at the clear daylight; some recalled that before receiving the “Fate Method,” it was dusk, and instinctively asked,
“What hour is it now?”
“How much time has passed?”

Jiang She did not answer. He turned his head gently and said, “Please trouble the mountain god to send over some food.”

At the mention of food, for some reason, everyone suddenly felt their stomachs grow empty, their bellies seemed to press against their spines, and a sour sensation welled up in their stomachs—a sudden pang of hunger.

They wished they could swallow twenty steamed buns in one gulp.

At that moment, they did not know that the local county magistrate had been worried for seven days.

“Those people went to the Lu family to pay birthday respects, yet today they still haven’t returned?”
“Your Excellency, Mister Bai and the others haven’t come back yet, and the Bai and Wang families have come looking again.”

The head constable reported, folding his hands, “We’ve also gone to the Lu residence to inquire, but no one knows where that courtyard is. We’ve gone three times without finding a trace. In my opinion, the Lu family doesn’t even have such a courtyard—it’s all hysteria on their part!”

“Oh?”

Cheng Zhi, the magistrate of Xiangyang County, styled Yuanze, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Nonsense! One person might suffer hysteria, but could the servants, the young mistress of the Lu family, and their eldest daughter all be hysterical?”

He asked, “What does the Lu family say about this?”

The constable frowned deeply, “That is strange. They say Master Lu followed an immortal master, went to worship the immortals and seek the Dao. They even say that these nineteen people might have all gone to learn the Dao.”

Speaking of the Lu family, the constable was full of grievance. After days of hard work, he could not help but complain,
“Your Excellency, no matter how we ask, this is all they say. What kind of matter is this?”

Magistrate Cheng Zhi naturally did not believe that Master Lu had truly gone to seek immortality; he found the idea absurd and only accepted it as a rumor in the farming village. He kept massaging his brow, trying to soothe the fire of worry inside.

As he pondered, he proposed a possibility.

“Could it be that these people, on their way to pay birthday respects, ran into bandits?”

The constable, still folding his hands in salutation, replied, “Why would bandits rob the Lu family? If they really wanted money, they would target other wealthy households. Everyone in the county knows that the Lu family has little left nowadays.”

As he spoke, his voice lowered considerably.

“I also heard yesterday that the county captain sent people to ask nearby hamlets. They’ve been behaving properly, and no one has entered or left the village.”

“It’s spring plowing season now; those men are probably in the fields.”

The constable spoke softly and cautiously.

Their county captain’s background was somewhat dubious; it was said he came from the grassroots years ago—not through the imperial examinations nor by noble favor—he simply became an official that way.

Now, it seemed he had turned over a new leaf.

His family even hired a teacher for scholarly pursuits. In this era when Daoism was revered, the county captain often visited the Daoist temple to offer incense, converse with the Daoist priests, and study Daoist scriptures.

He had a sincere reverence for the Dao.

The magistrate nodded.

This was a difficult matter. Today was the seventh day, and no one knew where these nineteen people had gone. If it were only the servants and Master Lu missing, it would be easier.

But among the guests were some local wealthy gentry with familial ties, as well as a great poet named Meng Haoran, who was known to have frequent private exchanges with the governor of Xiangzhou.

This complicated the matter.

As he sat worried, unsure how to face his aunt at home or his superiors, hurried footsteps sounded outside.

“Your Excellency! There’s news—”

Cheng Zhi suddenly lifted his head.

......

The attendants cleared away the soup bowls and cups, and dishes arrived in a continuous stream. These people, not having eaten for who knew how long, devoured the food as if they were starving ghosts returned to life.

They emptied eight jars of wine alone.

Even the venerable matriarch, leaning on her cane, staggered to the table, ate three steamed buns in a row, along with plenty of meat and fruit, before she came to her senses.

When the magistrate and his men arrived, this was the scene before them.

The table was laden with many plates; most of the dishes were empty, leaving only some soup residue. Some even sat on the ground, their cups and bowls emptied. Had there been more people and familiar attire, he might have mistaken it for a gathering of over a hundred strong men at the Lu household.

They looked surprised at the sudden arrival of the magistrate.

“Your Excellency?”
“Master Mingfu, why have you come?”

Some tried to rise, clutching the wall, folding their hands in salute, but just then the attendants behind the magistrate erupted into an excited murmur.

“They have returned!”
“Who saw when they came back? Qian San, weren’t you guarding the Lu residence? Did you see when they arrived?”

“Excellent!”
“Now we can explain to the Wang family. My mother’s been doing needlework for them, and the Wang family has been so worried these days they lost interest in buying embroidery.”

“Seven days have passed—what were these nineteen people doing all this while?”
“Could they have been abducted by nearby hamlets?”

The voices mingled into a noisy clamor.

The dozen or so in the courtyard listened blankly to the chatter of the attendants and constables.

......

Wang Anlan was one of the Wang family, the second son. He had gone to the Lu residence to pay birthday respects and witnessed the “immortal master” breathe out flames, saw the lord of the Deer Gate Mountain, and even met a true immortal.

He had spent forty years in a dream, awakening with his clothes still unmarked.

He listened in a daze.

“Seven… seven days...?”

The magistrate Cheng Zhi’s cousin was Wang Anlan’s wife, making Wang the magistrate’s cousin-in-law; they had always been familiar.

“Wang Er, where have you been during these missing days?”

Wang Anlan seemed suddenly awakened.

He opened his mouth but hesitated, then said, “We… had a dream.”

Cheng Zhi frowned, not quite understanding.

“What?”

Wang Anlan, as if still wandering in a dream, began to recount the dream’s events in detail—omitting the part where he was stabbed to death.

“Is it true?”

Cheng Zhi grew increasingly shocked and fearful as he listened.

At first, he thought his cousin-in-law was bluffing, perhaps hiding mischief from his family. But then others began to chime in, each adding details that matched perfectly, leaving no contradictions.

It was as if…
There truly was an ancient Huai Kingdom.

“A dream of forty years, while only seven days have passed in the world.”

“Is this the work of immortals?”

The magistrate murmured to himself.

Wang Anlan recalled everything clearly, as if it had genuinely happened. After finishing his forty-year tale, bathed in morning light and cooled by the breeze, listening to the noisy discussions around him and having a hearty meal among mortals, he finally regained a sense of reality.

But when he thought carefully about the dream again, it felt distant.

Vague and elusive, just like a dream.

As he spoke, Wang Anlan mentioned that Lu Pei had been seeking immortal fate but encountered a fake immortal master who deceived them. Fortunately, they met a true sage who granted them the “Fate Method.”

Magistrate Cheng Zhi was engrossed in the story.

Suddenly, Wang Er was startled.

“By the way, that immortal—”