Zhou Jiuyu had honestly almost forgotten this book title. The dreams of the past few days had pulled him deep under—so deep he’d momentarily lost track of reality.
He tapped open the second photo.
Half the page held text; the other half was blank.
The final line before the void read:
“‘Sigh. Still so foolish,’ Zhou Jiuyu shook his head.”
Seeing names like *Nan Mengling* and *Zhou Jiuyu* in the text sent a surreal jolt through him—a strange, haunting sense of déjà vu.
He fell silent for a moment, then picked up his phone and typed:
Zhou Jiuyu: So everything I do in my dreams gets reflected in your book? Am I basically writing the sequel for you?
Xiao Lü: Yes… but not exactly. Weren’t you having fun in there too?
Xiao Lü: Powerful abilities, early-game god’s-eye view, a gorgeous female lead waiting on you…
Xiao Lü: Beyond the emotional payoff, think about the real-world benefits this “writing gig” already brought you.
Zhou Jiuyu: That’s not what I meant.
Zhou Jiuyu: It’s just…
Zhou Jiuyu: Thanks for the reminder.
He set the phone down. Outside the window, the sky had shifted from hazy gray to blinding white. Only then did it hit him—or rather, wake him up.
All those thrilling days… were just a dream.
He wasn’t the type to dwell on gains and losses, fretting that his dream-self’s power made his real life feel hollow.
He’d been an orphan in his past life—born with nothing. He knew well: if a pie fell from the sky, catching it was luck; missing it meant it was never yours. No big emotional crash.
But…
It was a dream.
A story inside a book.
No matter how brilliantly he lived it, no matter how stunning the ending—he’d always stop at the final page.
His dream ended there.
But Nan Mengling’s story would keep going. On and on, beyond the last line.
He’d never truly belong to it forever.
Dreams end. Reality remains.
Daydreams always cut off right at the peak—as if whispering: *Wake up. Stop freaking daydreaming. Open your eyes—you’re still alone. That lovely girl? She was just playing along. She’s been kind enough. Don’t you dare keep fantasizing about… more.*
Buzz…
Just as morning melancholy crept back in, his phone vibrated again.
Another message from Xiao Lü.
Another photo.
Same cover.
But something was different.
“Fallen… *Sword* Fairy?” Zhou Jiuyu blinked, slightly taken aback.
One character changed. Meaning flipped entirely.
Xiao Lü: My rating wasn’t random. At dawn, it still read *Fallen Immoral Fairy*. Only after you woke did it shift.
Xiao Lü: Also—since your score hit 70, the upgrade reward arrives before September.
Xiao Lü: Get ready for campus life at Tianhai Martial Academy.
Zhou Jiuyu tossed the phone aside. Gazing at the brightening sky, he almost saw the dream’s glittering night shimmer through the haze.
—*Immoral Fairy*.
—*Sword Fairy*.
He wasn’t just a dream passerby.
He’d already rewritten the story.
Now? Craft an ending so damn perfect, so beautifully satisfying, he’d carry zero regrets.
…
That night, Zhou Jiuyu slipped back into the dream.
At the cliffside, Nan Mengling was already warming the bed. His daytime gloom softened. Without hesitation, he slid under the covers, wrapped an arm around her slender frame, and gave her a small reward:
“This is the last reward before training. Want more later? You’ll have to earn it.”
“I’ll work hard anyway, Young Master… but can the rewards be… richer?” Nan Mengling murmured.
“What kind of richer?”
“Can we… not just kiss? Maybe… other places?”
“Which places?”
“The lips.”
Zhou Jiuyu flicked her forehead lightly. “Stop imagining things. Sleep.”
“Oh…”
Night melted into dawn.
After waking, Zhou Jiuyu took Nan Mengling straight to City No. 5.
After disguising them both with his ability, they boarded a high-speed train to City No. 1.
First time here. Though the novel’s setting felt vaguely early-modern, the city blazed with futuristic life—so vivid Zhou Jiuyu almost believed he was back in reality.
“The Sanctum? *This* is… the Sanctum?”
He raised an eyebrow at the gleaming tech-spired tower.
He’d pictured something ancient. Retro.
Not this.
Pure high-tech wizardry!
Please don’t tell him the “Gravity Forest” was just a “gravity room.”
“Excuse me. Loitering disrupts the Sanctum’s dignity and peace. Please leave. Thank you.”
Before Zhou Jiuyu could speak, a young guard approached to shoo them off.
“Um… what’s the procedure to enter?” Zhou Jiuyu asked politely.
The guard shot him a dismissive glance. “Think money or strength gets you in? Even the city lord’s third-gen heirs need approved passes. Whoever you are—dream on.”
“You need cash, power, connections, *and* clout. Now scram.” He waved a hand.
“You’re just a guard. How’d you know all this?” Zhou Jiuyu smiled faintly.
“’Cause…” The guard puffed his chest. “I *am* the city lord’s third-gen heir.”
Zhou Jiuyu opened his mouth—but the guard cut in:
“Don’t scoff at this post. My cousins? All arrogant. They still grovel to my grandpa for a pass. Me? I took guard duty. I come and go freely, snag perks whenever… They’re now offering fortunes to buy this spot. I won’t sell.”
“Bro. Genius.”
Zhou Jiuyu gave a thumbs-up.
Damn. And now you’re really showing off.
“Fine. Since you’re desperate—I’ll let you peek inside. *Just* a peek. No touching. I’ll show you the sights.” The guard straightened his uniform and opened the gate. “Come on.”
“Wait. Phone.” Zhou Jiuyu pulled out his vibrating device.
Unknown number. He knew.
Answered.
“Master, two year-long Sanctum residency passes—secured for you and Miss Nan.”
“I’m at the gate.”
“Tell the guard: *Enter the password*. He’ll know. Password: 10086. He’ll verify the names I filed—‘Young Master Zhou’ and ‘Miss Nan.’ Inside the Sanctum, hide nothing. It operates beyond official reach. Even the Patrol Division wouldn’t dare enter.”
“Good work. Visit when free. I’ll teach you the full breathing technique.”
“Grandson seeks no reward, Master. This is my duty. I only hope… you’ll remember me.” Tong Che’s voice was careful, hopeful.
“Rest assured. I will.”
Zhou Jiuyu hung up, took Nan Mengling’s hand, and walked toward the open gate.
The guard tapped his foot, patience fraying.
“Enter the password.”
“Hurry! If someone sees—wait… *what* did you say?”
Silence. Then realization dawned on the guard’s face.
Zhou Jiuyu repeated calmly:
“I said: *Enter the password*. You should understand.”
“You… *what*?” The guard froze.
His heart skipped.
Damn… is he actually about to pull this off?
