Chapter 19:Fate

Meng Xian found herself once again immersed in the surreal, enigmatic landscape of her recurring dream. She awoke in the dream as she always did, with a disorienting sense of both awe and unease.

The world around her was in constant flux, a tapestry of impossible beauty and lurking danger.

The ground beneath her shifted like a living entity, its form constantly morphing. One moment, she stood on a verdant meadow, the grass soft beneath her feet, and the air filled with the scent of wildflowers. But in the blink of an eye, the meadow transformed into a vast, barren desert, the heat radiating off the sand in oppressive waves.

The desert, in turn, gave way to a serene, glassy lake, its surface so still that it reflected the sky above with unsettling clarity.

As Meng Xian walked, the lake suddenly rippled and churned, the water rising to form a towering wave that crashed down, only to solidify into a twisting, endless staircase.

The steps spiraled upwards into the sky, leading to nowhere. The stairs themselves seemed to defy the laws of physics, floating in midair, their surfaces made of some unknown, ethereal substance that shimmered in the dim light.

All around her, buildings of impossible architecture appeared, their forms a paradox of solidity and fluidity.

Some structures defied gravity, jutting out at bizarre angles, their walls made of liquid glass that flowed like water yet held firm like stone. Others were composed entirely of light, glowing with an inner radiance that cast no shadow, their shapes constantly shifting as if alive.

These structures, though beautiful, exuded an air of menace, as if they harbored secrets that were not meant to be uncovered.

Floating islands drifted lazily through the sky, their surfaces dotted with ancient ruins and towering spires that reached towards the heavens.

Some of these islands carried entire cities, their streets winding through towering skyscrapers made of crystal and light, while others were desolate, their once-great civilizations reduced to rubble and dust.

Meng Xian felt a heavy sense of déjà vu as she navigated this dreamscape. The overwhelming familiarity of the place clashed with the underlying confusion that gnawed at her.

It was as if she had known this world for an eternity, yet at the same time, it remained a profound mystery. Each time she dreamed of this place, she was struck by its haunting beauty, but also by an ever-present wariness.

It was a loop, a cycle that repeated itself endlessly—each time she would marvel at the dream, only to forget its details upon waking, leaving her with a lingering headache and a sense of something lost.

"Is this another god's domain?" Meng Xian whispered to herself, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to make sense of the chaos around her.

The thought reminded her of Zhou Mingrui and his connection to the Sefirah Castle in Lord of the Mysteries. Could this place be similar? Could it belong to a god whose existence was beyond her understanding?

But unlike the familiar realms described in Lord of the Mysteries, this dream world held no clear answers. Meng Xian had scoured the lore, diving deep into the mythology of the novel, trying to find a clue, a hint, anything that could explain the nature of this place.

The Great Old Ones like The Primordial One and The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth were active on Earth, their influences hidden from the public eye. Folklores and legends often contained traces of their presence, but even in the vast history of those tales, Meng Xian could find no mention of a place like this, a realm so disconnected from everything she knew.

She remembered the list of divine realms from the wiki, each tied to a god or a concept in Lord of the Mysteries. Sefirah Castle, Chaos Sea, River of Eternal Darkness, City of Calamity, Nation of Disorder—all these places had their own logic, their own terrifying beauty.

But this place… it was different. There was no record of it, no description that matched the shifting landscape she found herself in.

Meng Xian's thoughts were interrupted as she recalled a figure from a previous dream, a shadowy presence that had whispered to her.

The words echoed in her mind, clear and resonant despite the confusion: "Land of Dreams…"

The name sent a shiver down her spine. Could that be what this place was? A Land of Dreams, detached from the waking world, ruled by a being beyond her comprehension?

The thought both intrigued and terrified her. If this place was indeed tied to a god or a higher power, then what role did she play in it? Was she merely an observer, or was there a purpose to her presence here?

As a reader and writer with an affinity for unraveling mysteries, she had developed countless theories about the enigmatic nature of her dreams.

The recurring dreamscape, with its shifting landscapes and impossible architecture, had become a source of both fascination and frustration.

She recalled the day she had stumbled upon that peculiar book, the one that now seemed to hold the key to her ceaseless dreaming. It wasn't a mere coincidence, she mused.

The decision to buy the book had been driven by an inexplicable gut feeling, a pull that felt as though it was orchestrated by some unseen hand. She had felt compelled to purchase it, even though she had initially set it aside, only to find that reading it had triggered a cascade of dreams that grew increasingly frequent and vivid.

"Is this some sort of elaborate design?"

Meng Xian wondered, her mind racing. The frequency of her dreams had escalated dramatically after she began reading the book. It was as if her very act of reading had ignited a sequence of events beyond her control.

The dreams, once sporadic, had become a constant presence in her life, weaving themselves into her reality in a way that felt almost like a cruel twist of fate.

"What if it's not just the book?" she pondered. "What if my entire journey in this world, everything I've experienced, was somehow arranged by the same force that created this place?

the more the dreams came, until they were a constant, looming presence in her life. Meng Xian had theorized—sometimes aloud, sometimes to herself—that perhaps her journey into this world was not merely a consequence of her own actions but a part of a larger, cosmic arrangement.

Was it possible that the world she had traveled to, and the dreams she endured, were all orchestrated by a higher power, the very entity that owned the place she had seen in her dreams?

The realization was both chilling and intriguing. It was as though her fate had been intricately designed from the very beginning, with the connection between her and this strange dream world established long before she had any inkling of it.

Meng Xian found herself in a similar situation to Zhou Mingrui's, though with a twist—while Zhou Mingrui seemed to be navigating a path that was partially shrouded in uncertainty, Meng Xian was acutely aware of the patterns and potential outcomes, yet felt powerless to change them.

It was a disheartening realization. Knowing the ending of a story, only to be trapped in its narrative, was a form of existential despair. Meng Xian felt as if she was bound by invisible chains to a fate that had already been sealed.

Even though she yearned to alter the course of her destiny, she was stifled by the knowledge that whatever efforts she made would be futile against the predetermined outcome.

Her frustration was palpable, a gnawing sense of helplessness that had accompanied her through countless dreamscapes.

The dreams were like a never-ending loop, offering glimpses of profound truths that always eluded her grasp. She wanted to complain, to voice her grievances, but the lack of understanding about what was truly happening to her rendered her words meaningless.

The figure, a constant presence in her dreams, reappeared yet again. This time, it was silent, merely standing there with an air of inscrutable calm. Meng Xian's unease grew as she faced the figure, feeling a discomfort that was both physical and emotional.

The figure's silence was more disconcerting than its previous cryptic messages. It seemed to watch her with an unsettling patience, as if waiting for her to come to some profound realization.

Meng Xian's frustration bubbled to the surface as the figure began to speak once more. The words were incomprehensible, a jumble of sounds that only served to intensify the piercing headache that had become her constant companion.

She clenched her teeth, trying to make sense of the figure's speech, but the effort only exacerbated her discomfort.

With a sudden hiss, the dreamscape began to crumble around her.

The vivid colors and shifting forms dissolved into a haze of darkness, and Meng Xian felt a jolt as she was thrust back into the waking world.

The pain in her head was immediate and relentless, a dull throb that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heartbeat.

The silver moon hung in the sky, casting its pale light through the window as a gentle breeze rustled the curtains. Meng Xian sat up, her heart racing, and looked around her dimly lit room.

The remnants of the dreamscape were already fading from her memory, slipping away like sand through her fingers.

The dream had vanished, leaving behind only a lingering sense of disorientation and unease.

She touched her forehead, feeling the heat of her frustration mingling with the persistent ache in her head. "Again," she thought, her voice a whisper of helplessness in the quiet of her room.

She exhaled slowly, trying to regain control over her breathing and calm the storm of emotions within her.

The sense of powerlessness was overwhelming. She knew she was entangled in a web of fate that had been woven long before her arrival.

The knowledge did little to comfort her, and as she stared at the moonlit ceiling, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, judged, or perhaps even guided by forces beyond her understanding.

Meng Xian sighed deeply, a mix of resignation and determination in her heart.

She was caught in a cycle she could not break, but she refused to let it consume her entirely. With a final, weary glance at the silver moon, she lay back down, trying to soothe the throbbing pain and prepare herself for whatever came next.

"I have to find a way to understand this,"

Meng Xian quietly moved to the kitchen, her footsteps muffled on the cold floor as she flicked on the light. The brightness was a stark contrast to the eerie half-light of her dream.

She moved through her morning routine with practiced ease, though her mind was still tangled in the threads of the night's disturbing visions.

Her hands worked automatically, pulling out the coffee grounds and setting the kettle on the stove, the rhythmic clinking of utensils grounding her in the present reality.

The soft meow from Starlight, her gray tabby cat, broke the silence. Starlight had just woken from a cozy sleep and padded over to Meng Xian's feet.

The cat nudged against her legs, seeking attention. Meng Xian, momentarily diverted from her brewing coffee, bent down to stroke Starlight's soft fur.

The simple act of petting her cat was comforting, a small piece of normalcy amidst the chaos swirling in her mind.

She gave Starlight a gentle scratch behind the ears before returning to the task at hand.

As Meng Xian focused on preparing her coffee, she didn't immediately notice the soft sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

Zhou Mingrui, having been roused by the commotion, was now standing at the edge of the kitchen. His hair was tousled from sleep, and his eyes were still heavy with fatigue. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, his gaze fixed on Meng Xian with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Meng?" Zhou Mingrui's voice cut through the stillness, gentle but insistent.

Meng Xian turned, her movements slow and deliberate, to find Zhou Mingrui standing there, his presence a warm contrast to the cold, sterile light of the kitchen. She offered him a weary smile, her face lined with the traces of her restless night.

"Oh, why are you up so early?" Meng Xian asked, her voice soft but tinged with the faintest hint of surprise.

Zhou Mingrui's brow furrowed as he took in her appearance, noting the shadows beneath her eyes and the tightness around her mouth. "And why are you up so early?" he countered

Meng Xian sighed, turning her attention back to the coffee. She poured hot water over the grounds, watching as the dark liquid began to swirl and blend.

The familiar ritual of making coffee was both a comfort and a distraction. She stirred the brew absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting to the dream she had just escaped from.

It was easier to focus on the mundane than to confront the deeper, more troubling issues.

"I can't sleep…" Meng Xian admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The truth was a raw edge she wasn't ready to expose, but the reality of her sleepless nights was undeniable.

She took a sip from her Mickey Mouse cup, the warmth of the coffee a small solace against the ache in her head.

Zhou Mingrui studied her in silence, his gaze unwavering. He knew that Meng Xian was hiding something. He had seen her struggle with fatigue and the way her eyes would dart away when asked about her well-being.

It was becoming increasingly clear to him that there was more to her sleepless nights than she was willing to share.

"You're always like this, Meng," Zhou Mingrui said, his voice soft but firm. "Not enough sleep, always looking tired.

Our colleagues have noticed it too, but you always brush it off. You say you're fine, but I can see that you're not."

Meng Xian's gaze fell to the coffee cup, her fingers curling around its warmth. She was well aware of Zhou Mingrui's keen observational skills and his ability to sense when something was wrong.

It was not surprising that he had picked up on her facade. But the truth was something she could not easily share.

The reality of her dreams and the mysteries that plagued her were far beyond the comprehension of anyone in her current life.

They were tied to something darker, something she could not fully explain or even begin to describe to a modern mind.

Meng Xian said quietly, her voice carrying a note of resignation. "It's just… a weird dream, that's all."

Zhou Mingrui's frown deepened. He knew Meng Xian was lying, but he also understood her need to protect herself, to keep certain things private.

Still, he couldn't ignore the concern that gnawed at him. He reached out, gently patting her head, a gesture of comfort and solidarity.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay," he said, his tone reassuring. "But you need to take better care of yourself. You've always been there for me. It's only fair that you let others help you too. If you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Meng Xian was taken aback by his kindness. She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude. A small, genuine smile curved her lips. "Thank you, Zhou. I will try to take better care of myself."

Zhou Mingrui's smile was warm, a comforting presence in the dimly lit kitchen. "How about we watch a movie? It might help you relax and maybe even help you get some rest."

Meng Xian considered the offer, the idea of losing herself in a movie appealing. She nodded, her smile widening a little. "Okay, sure. That sounds nice."