Night fell over Qingyang Town, but unlike its usual peaceful atmosphere, the once-bustling streets were now engulfed in fire and blood. Flames flickered against shattered windows, and smoke choked the air. Screams that once rang out in joy now turned to dying howls. A black-haired youth walked calmly through this hellish scene, his face devoid of expression.
Everywhere Xiao Yan passed, someone died.
It didn't matter how well they hid—behind doors, inside cellars, under floorboards. No matter how innocent they looked, Xiao Yan always found them, dragged them out, and severed their heads with a clean stroke of his sword.
This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. It wasn't even the tenth.
If anything, he was frighteningly proficient at it.
'Dream or not, if killing them serves the goal, I'll kill them all,' he thought without a flicker of guilt.
These weren't real people. This wasn't even the real world. Everything here was part of the illusion constructed by Qing Tan's subconscious under the influence of the Eternal Phantom Demon Flower. And as cruel as it might be, the only way to wake her from her fantasy was to make that dream unbearable.
At first, he had faced some resistance. In this illusion, his strength had been suppressed to a mere Dou Zhe. Meanwhile, the residents of Qingyang Town—phantoms crafted from Qing Tan's memories—could be as strong as the Tianyuan Rank. But Xiao Yan quickly realized he held an overwhelming advantage: he couldn't die.
He wasn't bound by the rules of this fake world. No matter how badly he was injured, he would never truly perish. The illusion couldn't comprehend his existence as an intruder. In contrast, the fabricated townspeople adhered to the subconscious laws of Qing Tan's world—"if you're killed, you die." That difference alone gave Xiao Yan the upper hand.
'This illusion might be powerful, but it's nowhere near as adaptable as the one crafted by Nether Poison Flame,' he mused. 'That one would have summoned a guardian the moment I started a massacre. But this one… it just follows the script Qing Tan wrote.'
By the time Xiao Yan stepped over the threshold of the Lin family residence, the path behind him was littered with corpses. Every street, every alley, every house he passed had been purged. Blood soaked the town square like rain on dry soil. He didn't hesitate for a moment when he came face to face with Lin Xiao and his family.
Right in front of Qing Tan, he killed them all.
Slashing down Lin Xiao and his wife first, then Lin Dong, whose eyes glared with shock and rage until they were frozen in death. And then it was over. Qing Tan knelt beside their bodies, trembling, her fingers gripping lifeless hands as she cried out in agony.
"Father… Mother…"
Her voice cracked. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Don't look at me like that," Xiao Yan said with a faint smirk. "It's been, what, over three hundred times now? And your expression never changes. Are you really still not willing to wake up?"
He stepped past the bodies, brushing the blood off his sword.
"If you truly wanted to stop this, you could. You know this place isn't real. You could snap your fingers and bring them all back. But I've got time, lots of it. Bring them back a thousand times, I'll kill them a thousand times. Doesn't bother me."
This was the three hundred and fifty-first time he'd slaughtered everyone in the illusion.
Every time he finished, the dream would reset. Qing Tan would bring it all back—her family, the town, the peace—and he'd start again.
'You want to escape into a dream?' he thought. 'Then I'll turn that dream into a nightmare. And I won't stop until you admit it.'
Qing Tan had tried to cling to the illusion's warmth, to ignore the cracks in its foundation. But repeated trauma had begun to take its toll. Her hands clutched the corpses before her, her shoulders trembling as she murmured, "Why… why do you have to do this…"
Xiao Yan's gaze turned cold.
"You think I care about your life?" he said with a scoff. "If it weren't for that niece of yours crying and begging, and the ten billion Xuan Yuan Pills you owe me, I wouldn't waste a second trying to save you."
He took a step forward, voice low and clear.
"So what's it going to be? Are you going to wake up now? Or do I keep going?"
Qing Tan didn't answer.
But Xiao Yan noticed it right away—something was changing. The sky above trembled. The earth beneath their feet began to quake. Around them, the illusion started to collapse. This wasn't like the resets from before. This was the beginning of the end.
She was finally breaking free.
He watched silently as cracks spread through the town's buildings, as the familiar sky distorted into a swirl of black mist.
'Finally,' he thought, letting out a breath. 'Looks like this dumb game is over.'
But just as he prepared to withdraw his spirit, a blinding white light suddenly engulfed everything. Xiao Yan's pupils contracted.
'What is—'
The white glow didn't hurt him. Instead, it drowned him, smothered his senses like a thick fog. He couldn't think, couldn't move. His memories—his identity—were peeling away. And in their place, something new settled in.
It was like someone had shoved a whole other life into his head.
When he came to, he was standing alone atop a stone platform.
A warm wind brushed against his face.
The sky was blue. The air was crisp. In front of him stood an enormous stone tablet.
'Where… is this?' he wondered, confused.
He glanced around, frowning. 'I was just… killing people? No. Wait. That doesn't make sense.'
He took a step forward, then paused again. Something wasn't right.
'This looks like… the Xiao family estate? I think? Then I'm…'
Before he could finish the thought, the stone tablet in front of him began to glow. Bright light pulsed from its surface, and a cold, mechanical voice echoed from the sky above.
"Xiao Yan—Dou Qi Level: Three-Star. Rank: Low-tier."
His eyes widened.
'Wait a second… Isn't this… the starting point?'
(End of Chapter)
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