Chapter Thirty-Nine: Dreamscape

Another Mid-Autumn Festival had arrived. Chu Su Yi glanced at the bustling street below, watching the people whose faces glowed with happiness. Yet, a strange bitterness welled up in his heart. He was already an orphan; for him, the Mid-Autumn Festival was nothing but a form of torment.

Silently, he leapt up to the city wall, landing lightly atop its highest point. With his hands folded behind his head, he lay on the rooftop, gazing blankly at the full moon, round as a jade plate. Each fifteenth day of the lunar month, this strange sensation would arise, but on the Mid-Autumn Festival, it grew so intense that he sometimes felt suffocated, as if something was missing deep within him. The feeling always passed with the night, vanishing as if it had never existed.

Fixing his eyes on the luminous moon, gradually, a phantom appeared within its nearly translucent disk: a woman, dressed in a blue gauze gown, long hair drifting in the wind, a silver whip in her hand. She stood with her back to him, yet at times she would turn around, only to reveal a silver mask that concealed her face.

Whenever this happened, Chu Su Yi would try to remember her eyes, but as soon as he made the attempt, the woman would smile faintly, then disappear.

Once again, with no recollection of resistance, Chu Su Yi sank into a deep sleep.

At dawn, when the first rays of sunlight touched him, he woke, unable to recall anything of the previous night—only a vague impression, as if it had all been a dream soon forgotten.

He had become accustomed to this. Since being rescued by Muye and the others and returning to the Chu estate, every full moon brought him another night of confusion and oblivion.

At first, he found it strange and asked Muye about it. Muye only replied that he did not fully understand, but assured him it was not the effect of any drug.

Yet, when Chu Su Yi questioned the three of them about a woman with a silver whip who appeared on the night of the full moon, they all seemed startled, then shook their heads in perfect unison, claiming they had never seen such a person. If they ever did, they promised, they would tell him at once.

Muye, seeing Chu Su Yi’s concern, prescribed several calming remedies and urged him to take them daily. Afterward, Chu Su Yi’s memories of those nights grew even fainter, as if they were merely strange dreams.

Yet those remedies were not ordinary at all—they were concocted by Muye to erase the lingering memories from Chu Su Yi’s mind on each fifteenth night. There was nothing simple about them.

Now, the annual martial arts gathering was approaching—a time for the great clans to meet. As the leader of the martial world, Chu Su Yi was obligated to ensure everything went smoothly, lest he leave himself open to criticism.

While Chu Su Yi was busy with preparations, completely absorbed in his responsibilities, Gu Shenyu, Muye, and Aishuo vanished without a trace. So preoccupied was he that he failed to notice their absence.

Deep in the woods, three figures lounged lazily among the trees, each with a flask of fine wine, gazing dreamily at the sky.

“Muye, is it really all right for us to abandon Su Yi like this?” a woman’s voice asked with a mischievous laugh.

It was none other than the missing trio.

“You’re actually worried about leaving Su Yi to fend for himself?” Muye took a small sip, glancing at Aishuo—who, truth be told, did not seem the least bit concerned that Su Yi might be overwhelmed.

“Muye’s right. Aishuo, are you really anxious? Relax, this sort of thing is nothing for Su Yi. Let’s just enjoy ourselves!” Gu Shenyu’s laughter drifted down from another tree.

Aishuo, clad in fiery red robes, lay stretched out on a branch. To the uninitiated, the tree might have appeared to be ablaze. She took a hearty swig, laughing boisterously, “Exactly! We should trust Su Yi’s abilities! Ha!”

“Let’s drink!” Muye, dressed in black and nearly blending into the night, raised his flask.

“To drinking! Ha!” came the cheerful chorus.

“Yes, let’s drink!”

Crickets began to sing; green fireflies hovered above the grass. All was tranquil.

Raising her wine, Gu Shenyu seemed to make a decision. “Muye, Aishuo, tell me—what exactly is ‘Dream’s End’? You said that after Su Yi took it, he would forget about Silver Luster. So why does he always remember her on the night of the full moon? In the beginning, he could recall her form quite clearly. And what about the calming medicine Muye later gave him?”

Aishuo met Gu Shenyu’s gaze. She had long expected that, one day, Shenyu would demand an explanation. Even if he trusted that she and Muye meant Su Yi no harm, he deserved the truth.

“‘Dream’s End’ is a medicine Aishuo and I created from an ancient recipe. It can make someone forget the person they love most, much like the long-lost Heartless Pill. We stumbled upon the formula by chance,” Muye explained.

Aishuo continued, “It’s a gentle remedy. We spent a long time perfecting it. The person who takes it will think of their beloved on a specific night, but upon waking, they’ll forget. But from Su Yi’s reaction, we suspect the recipe is incomplete.”

At this, Muye’s eyes grew distant. “Yes, incomplete. We believe it should allow someone to forget entirely, but as you’ve seen, Su Yi hasn’t forgotten. The calming medicine I gave him later was meant to erase the memory of the dream itself. But over time, he’ll realize that every month, there’s a night missing from his memory.”

“There are other medicines that could make Su Yi forget, but all the others carry some degree of toxicity. For Su Yi’s sake, I chose ‘Dream’s End.’ It’s not perfect, but at least it’s harmless,” Aishuo said quietly, gazing at the sky.

Gu Shenyu had the answers he sought. He had never heard of ‘Dream’s End’ before—who would have thought it was an ancient remedy, and still incomplete? The revelation left him both astonished and heavy-hearted.

“If, one day, Su Yi asks us about his missing night, what should we say?” There was a trace of sadness in Gu Shenyu’s voice.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Muye said softly, his tone drifting like mist. Aishuo remained silent.

Their eyes turned to the far horizon, each weighed down with their own thoughts.

—End of chapter—