032 An Unexpected Encounter (2)

The God of Sleep pondered her true identity, and gradually a name surfaced in his mind.

Nuoluo, too, was studying the God of Sleep, inwardly chiding herself for her rashness. By now she realized she had mistaken him for someone else. The faces were identical, but if one looked closely or spent more time together, the differences would become apparent—they were utterly unlike.

Their auras set them worlds apart.

But what puzzled her was this: if he was not the God of Dreams, why did he choose to assume the same appearance? Two faces, exactly alike, yet each imbued with a distinct, extraordinary spirit.

Since he was not the God of Dreams, he surely knew nothing of Niaoniao’s whereabouts. Yet what Nuoluo did not realize was that Niaoniao was, in fact, right beside her.

“Who are you, really? Why disguise yourself as the God of Dreams?”

The God of Sleep shook his head slightly. “Who I am is of no consequence. And why do you assume I took on the God of Dreams’ form? Perhaps it is he who has taken on mine.”

He could not help but sigh inwardly: why did the three of them have to look so alike? He had grown weary of this very question.

Nuoluo was at a loss. Clearly, she could glean nothing more from him. Nor could she linger here long. What should she do with him now?

Kill him? Obviously not. Though his true identity eluded her, Nuoluo was certain of one thing: his power was no less than hers, perhaps even surpassing the God of Dreams. Why he offered no resistance and allowed himself to be captured, she could not fathom.

Yet if she truly had such intentions, the outcome would likely be mutual destruction.

But if he managed to send word and expose her prematurely, the threat could be even greater.

As things stood, the Lord of the Underworld likely remained unaware of her presence in this nameless temple. Otherwise, who knew what perils she might have encountered along the way?

How best to deal with him? The safest course was to immerse him in sleep, so he would not interfere with her next steps.

If he resembled the God of Dreams so much, then let him, too, experience a dream. Nuoluo would not admit it aloud, but she still harbored resentment toward the God of Dreams. That dream had forced her to recall memories she wished to forget. Since that was so, let him taste the flavor of dreams as well. After all, they shared the same face.

A smile suddenly appeared on Nuoluo’s face. The God of Sleep was startled by the strange expression that flickered across her features.

“Do you want to know where Niaoniao is?” The God of Sleep’s words interrupted Nuoluo’s actions.

“You know Niaoniao?” Nuoluo retorted. In that moment she realized he might truly have seen Niaoniao, for his tone and demeanor remained utterly natural. Either he was a master of disguise, or he had indeed met her.

When he spoke of Niaoniao, there was not the slightest sign of unease. What, then, was his relationship with the God of Dreams?

From Nuoluo’s actions, the God of Sleep recognized a familiar pattern—she could create dreams. Her technique was still unrefined, but from her movements, he saw that perhaps in the near future, she would be able to conjure dreams no less vivid than those of the God of Dreams.

How had she achieved this? Had she already unraveled the Nightmare Realm, or was the dream before the God of Dreams simply a false one?

He realized she was shrouded in secrets, and he needed answers. Since she had been asking about Niaoniao from the moment they met, he saw no harm in giving her some information.

“You truly know Niaoniao’s whereabouts?” Nuoluo’s gaze bore into him, searching for any hint or clue, but those deep eyes revealed nothing.

“Believe it or not,” the God of Sleep replied, indifferent. By now, he was gradually freeing himself from her restraints.

Nuoluo suddenly thought of something and hastily layered another binding on him.

“Don’t think you can stall for time!” she warned, noticing the faintest movement from him—almost imperceptible, but enough to signal he was preparing to break free. She could not afford a moment’s laxity.

The God of Sleep grumbled inwardly at her vigilance. He was steadily acclimating to this unfamiliar force; the advice he once gave the God of Dreams was now coming true for himself.

Nuoluo considered her options and decided to trust him for now. If there was any chance of finding Niaoniao, she should try. Should he act out of line, she would reconsider.

With that, she added another barrier around him. The God of Sleep sensed an invisible net closing over him and shook his head in resignation.

He had never imagined that a single careless moment would see him treated as a prisoner.

As soon as Nuoluo released the binding around his feet, the God of Sleep stood, indicating with a gesture that his clothing was now wrinkled.

Nuoluo could only sigh—she was confronted with another eccentric, more concerned with his appearance than his safety.

Once his garments were neat again, the God of Sleep indicated they could proceed.

“Your name?” Nuoluo asked, reinforcing the barrier around him so she could sense any sudden movements.

After a moment’s thought, he looked at her and replied, “Feng Buyou.”

“What? What is your relationship with the God of Dreams? Who are you, truly?” Her suspicions deepened.

The God of Sleep did not answer, but gazed at her with deep, unfathomable eyes. He knew this name would only confuse her further, yet it was the truth.

Nuoluo sifted through all she knew of the Underworld. Who was he? The God of Death? Unlikely. The God of Sleep? Possible. At the very least, he was surely a deity whose power rivaled the God of Dreams.

She tried to deduce his true identity, and a tentative answer began to take shape.

If he truly was the God of Sleep, how could he have been captured so easily, without resistance? What was his plan? If not, then who was he?

The God of Sleep led the way, unhurried, as Nuoluo followed behind, watching his every move.

He seemed to relish the situation, moving at a leisurely pace, completely at ease, as though admiring the most beautiful scenery.

“Where exactly is Niaoniao?” Nuoluo could not help but ask. She suddenly felt that trusting him was a mistake. Yet he had recognized the false name she’d invented, and when he spoke of Niaoniao, there was no hint of uncertainty—he must have met her before. But why was he so relaxed?

By now, Nuoluo felt it was she who was imprisoned. It was as if her every action was dictated by him.

She suddenly realized this temple was enormous. After wandering for so long, she felt as though she were still in the same place, everything around her repeating endlessly, impossible to distinguish.

The God of Sleep strolled ahead, savoring the sounds behind him.

“What is this place? Why have we been walking so long, yet seem to be going nowhere?” Nuoluo scrutinized her surroundings, sensing she was trapped in some kind of labyrinth.

The God of Sleep stopped and looked back at her, a complex glint in his eyes. “You came for Niaoniao, did you not? When the time comes, you’ll know.”

He suddenly sensed a disturbance from Niaoniao. He needed to return to the place where she was confined to make sure—no one could break through his Soul Guidance so easily.

Now he had to depart. It was not the best time to go, for Niaoniao was right beside them.

He kept his thoughts hidden, answered Nuoluo, and continued forward, subtly altering the scenery as he walked.

Nuoluo suddenly halted, nudging the ground with her foot—there was the mark she had made at the very start. She had returned to the beginning.

This was a maze.

“Stop!”

The God of Sleep turned, still calm and collected. All the changes were now complete.

“We’re back where we started. What are you playing at?” She noticed that at some point, Feng Buyou’s expression had shifted; his hair floated as if stirred by a breeze, yet the air was still.

The bindings on him were loosening.

The God of Sleep raised his hand, a faint mist gathering at his fingertips, strands of it drifting toward Nuoluo.

She darted aside to avoid it.

“Niaoniao is right here—if you can find her,” the God of Sleep said, his figure dissolving into mist and vanishing from sight.

Nuoluo stared in shock—he had disappeared before her very eyes. Was his power truly so great, or had he set this entire labyrinth from the start, waiting for her to step into it?

The scenery around her began to shift, transforming rapidly the moment the God of Sleep departed.

Nuoluo’s vision blurred. She blinked hard, trying to see clearly.

At last, the world stilled. All was calm once more.

Where was she now?

It was nothing like what she had seen before. It was as though she had stepped into another world.

In the haze, a distant voice drifted toward her—Niaoniao’s voice, faint and far away.

Nuoluo tried to discern its origin and moved forward, feeling Niaoniao’s presence all around her.

She felt like a small boat lost at sea, at any moment threatened by towering waves. The only way to remain lucid was to keep moving toward the possible source. Though it sounded undeniably like Niaoniao, after so many dreams, was this voice real or an illusion?

Uncertainty filled her as she pressed on, searching for her companion.

She seemed to hear Niaoniao calling her, yet the voice was laced with confusion. What had happened? Where was she? Why did her presence seem to drift, now near, now far?

Her aura was so elusive, as if it might vanish altogether in the next moment. Why was it so?