033 An Unexpected Encounter (3)

The God of Sleep appeared before Niaoniao, watching as her resistance grew steadily stronger. Now, he could finally confirm her identity—but she remained unable to, never certain who he truly was, nor why he wielded such immense power.

Within that illusory soul, he was perpetually denied the answers he sought. Moreover, he sensed he was up against a formidable surge of resistance, a force reminiscent of a blaze so intense it could incinerate all things.

Against such opposition, Niaoniao's consciousness was reviving—how could this be possible? Never before had he encountered a situation like this. All he could do was delay her awakening, for he still needed to verify the Dream God’s message.

Meanwhile, the Dream God was facing a new crisis. Staring at the Nightmare Realm before him, he was overcome by a sense of strangeness, unaware that Nüluo had already escaped and that the current Nightmare Realm was but an illusion conjured by her.

He gazed upon the familiar scene and found it utterly foreign, alien even. Yet this was a dreamscape of his own making! After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to see for himself. With a flicker, he entered the Nightmare Realm. But the instant he crossed the threshold, a jolt ran through him—he tried to withdraw, but it was too late. The powerful dream closed around him, and his form vanished.

The Nightmare Realm had changed: it was now an unknown dreamscape, devoid of her presence, replaced by scenes he had never witnessed before. His dream had been supplanted—when had this occurred? How had he been none the wiser? Right under his own watch, she had not only broken through the dream but also crafted a perfect counterfeit.

Fear gripped the Dream God—her power had grown yet again, and within his own dreamscape, no less. If she had possessed such strength during their first meeting, it might have been he who was trapped by the River of Three Crossings.

Now, he could rely only on his own strength to escape. An ironic smile touched his lips—even he could fall prey to a dream. Such a thing was unheard of.

When the God of Sleep arrived at the Dream God's palace, the Dream God had already vanished, lost within the false dreamscape. The God of Sleep looked at the dream before him, his expression grave. He had come too late. He tried countless ways but could not break through this dream. What now?

Everything would have to depend on the Dream God’s own strength; he must find his own way out. For now, the God of Sleep had to keep Niaoniao under his control. If the Dream God failed to escape, then he would have to find another means through her.

He returned to where Niaoniao was held, acutely aware that Nüluo’s presence was drawing near. His task now was to keep Niaoniao from awakening too soon—and wait for Nüluo to arrive.

Their power had already far exceeded his imagination, and it continued to grow.

Meanwhile, Nüluo searched for Niaoniao’s whereabouts, closing her eyes to sense her companion’s presence. The closer she drew, the more uneasy she became. Where was she? She could feel her so close, yet her figure remained elusive.

Shutting her eyes, she focused only on the unique aura of Niaoniao. Gradually, a faint silhouette emerged—it seemed to be Niaoniao, lying weakly on the ground. Nüluo moved quietly in that direction, now relying entirely on her inner senses.

She opened her eyes. Niaoniao was here; the aura was strongest in this spot.

Her steps halted before a side hall’s humble door. Taking a deep breath, she entered.

A familiar figure awaited her—Feng Buyou, or rather, His Highness the God of Sleep.

He watched Nüluo and said, “I didn’t expect you to find this place so quickly. Impressive!”

“I didn’t expect our meeting to come so soon, either, Your Highness,” Nüluo replied.

He showed no surprise. “It seems you’ve known my identity for some time.”

“No, I only confirmed it just now. Your power surpasses the Dream God’s, and you could not possibly be the King of the Underworld or His Highness the God of Death. That leaves only one answer.” Nüluo explained with resignation; she should have realized sooner.

She averted her gaze from him to the figure lying on the ground—Niaoniao was indeed here.

Niaoniao still retained her human form, not yet transformed, but her aura was threadbare and her soul so faint that it felt unreal, as if the one lying on the ground was not truly her. After so many dreams and illusions, what was real and what was fantasy?

She felt it was not Niaoniao, but her instincts insisted otherwise.

Nüluo reached out to embrace her, believing only through touch could the mystery be resolved. But the God of Sleep stopped her.

In that brief contact, Nüluo had already confirmed Niaoniao’s identity, yet she seemed to be in grave danger.

“Your Highness, what have you done to Niaoniao? Why is she in your hands?” Nüluo’s anger rose. She did not know all that Niaoniao had suffered, but she was certain the current danger was no less than that of the Nightmare Realm—perhaps even worse. Recalling Niaoniao’s aversion to wraiths, Nüluo felt a pang of sorrow.

“You cannot take her away yet. I can assure you she is safe for now, but if you attempt to rescue her, I cannot guarantee her safety,” the God of Sleep said quietly.

He could not let her take Niaoniao.

Niaoniao, still deep in sleep, gave a faint moan, her brow furrowing as if trapped in a dream she could not escape.

Nüluo wanted to take her by force—she needed to wake Niaoniao as soon as possible.

“If you try to wake her now, she may never awaken, or if she does, part of her soul may remain lost in the dream, forever incomplete. Is that what you want?” The God of Sleep’s words carried a subtle threat.

Nüluo’s heart leapt; she recalled all she had endured in the Nightmare Realm.

Some dreams, if not broken by one’s own strength or by the dream master, could have dire consequences if forcibly ended.

Looking at the frail Niaoniao on the ground, Nüluo wondered—if she woke her now, would Niaoniao be lost forever? Or, if she awoke, would part of her soul remain behind, her wholeness forever fractured? Was she still herself, then?

It was a cruel choice—what was she to do? Rescue her, or not?

“Name your terms!” For now, she could only maintain the status quo. If Niaoniao were to awaken incomplete, she would rather wait and hope she could wake by her own strength. But first, the God of Sleep must preserve her state.

She could not take Niaoniao, so her safety must be assured in her absence.

Nüluo sensed she must have something worth bartering, or the God of Sleep would not have waited for her to discover Niaoniao’s whereabouts. And there was some power in Niaoniao he could not overcome, or she would have been gone already.

But what, exactly, did he want?

“My terms? I haven’t decided yet. Before our next meeting, I guarantee her safety. Whether she awakens, though, I cannot promise,” he replied, still waiting to see if the Dream God would escape the dream. If the Dream God emerged first, the advantage would return to him.

“Very well, remember your promise. All I want is her safety.” Nüluo turned to leave, her steps heavy. She could not look back at Niaoniao’s frail form. Each step forward was like walking on the edge of a blade—leaving her companion behind, choosing to walk on alone.

In her heart she whispered, “Niaoniao, forgive me. I cannot take you with me now, but I promise I will come back for you. Trust me—I will return.”

Her departing figure was shrouded in sorrow, a great, lonely shadow cast over the cramped hall.

Niaoniao’s fingers twitched. She felt it—she sensed Nüluo’s departure.

Nüluo finally left. She dared not look back, afraid that if she did, she would never be able to leave. The road ahead was long, and she had responsibilities yet to fulfill.

“Niaoniao, just as you told me on Sunset Mountain—never forget who I am. I always remember my duty. Forgive me for leaving you like this.”

The God of Sleep watched as Nüluo vanished from sight, pondering his next move—should he inform the King of the Underworld, or keep this hidden for now?

At last, he made his decision: he would conceal the truth, for now. He needed time. If the Dream God emerged from the dream in time, things would shift once more. But if the Dream God remained trapped, he would have to rely on her power.

The God of Sleep restored the barriers around his temple. Every time something involving the Dream God occurred, he found himself defying the King of the Underworld’s orders. He could only hope the Dream God would soon break free and buy him precious time.

After leaving the temple, Nüluo finally looked back, determined to remember this place; she would return to save Niaoniao. Here, her companion still waited.

Once she obtained the Underworld Fire, no matter the price, she would come back.

Until the God of Sleep’s terms were met, Niaoniao should remain safe. Yet Nüluo still could not fathom what it was that he desired from her.

Nor did she expect the Dream God to become ensnared in her own dream, unable to escape. If she had known, she might have felt more at ease.

Both sides cherished something belonging to the other; for now, that fragile balance ensured a fleeting peace.