C86 — The Line of Domination

“I have no wish to fulfill. You can go now, I’ll set you free,” Mu Sichen said decisively.

“Heh, foolish human, you don’t know what you’re missing. You really have no wishes?” the flying bike asked.

Mu Sichen: “Right now, I’m thinking of selling you on the secondhand market. A flying bike plus three wishes — surely someone would pay a fortune for that.”

“Wait! Even if you have no wishes, don’t your family have any?” the voice from inside the bike asked anxiously.

“Yes!” his parents answered simultaneously.

Even the little octopus was anxiously slapping the ground.

“Chenchen, even if you don’t want to make a wish, don’t you want to ride the bike and try it? It’ll be so much fun!” Father Mu said eagerly, his eyes shining with youthful excitement.

Mu Sichen: “…”

Since He Fei’s dream merged in, father Mu’s personality had been influenced by He Fei’s dream, roughly turning into He Fei’s father’s character.

“Well, you guys play with the motorbike then, I’ll go rest for a bit,” Mu Sichen said to the two of them and the little octopus.

“Okay, then I’ll fly out first! Honey, get on!” father Mu climbed onto the bike, hooking the little octopus on his shoulder, carrying mother Mu, and with a “whoosh,” they flew off.

Hmm, they seemed to be having quite a good time.

Mu Sichen slumped onto the sofa, his mind tangled by the triple merged dream. He needed some quiet to think carefully about what the system said and to find the true whereabouts of the “spiritual sea” and the “pillar.”

The system said the essence of the triple dream was both a dream and not a dream. What exactly did that mean? Mu Sichen calmed down and thought seriously.

He realized this was a very abstract question.

So far, the only dream Mu Sichen had truly experienced was the “Family Reunion” dream. The so-called triple dream was indeed a false proposition.

Whether it was Dream Butterfly Town or Ideal Restaurant, neither was truly Mu Sichen’s dream. Instead, his spirit merged into someone else’s or a group’s dream.

Speaking of merging, Mu Sichen began to understand.

Dream Butterfly Town or Ideal Restaurant, in essence, were no different from the triple merged dream he was currently experiencing.

These were originally three separate people’s dreams — three dreams. But since the triple merged dish was eaten by him alone, it fused into a dream centered on him, and he experienced the dreams that He Fei and Chi Lian wanted to have.

Marriage and the bike were elements brought in by the other two.

Mu Sichen’s thoughts gradually became clearer.

Assuming he truly, with the power of a false god, absorbed the dreams offered by his two followers, even merging their spirits into the dream, then what did Chi Lian and He Fei become in this dream?

He Fei was obvious — he must be that bike.

Thinking of Chi Lian, Mu Sichen realized the family relationships in the dream were somewhat different from those in his real life. His parents got along well but argued often, they weren’t as harmonious as in the dream.

He had thought this harmonious family relationship was fabricated by the Ideal Restaurant dream. But now it seemed the relationship between father and mother Mu in the dream resembled the ideal marriage Chi Lian had occasionally talked about.

So this relationship was actually given by Chi Lian’s dream. Therefore, once she entered this occupied dream, the most likely role for her would be the mother.

What if this dreamscape expanded to include Ideal Restaurant and Dream Butterfly Town?

Then Dream Butterfly Town would be a stable dreamscape built by Butterfly with His enormous power.

This wasn’t His own power, but rather a space He constructed by fusing together the dreams of everyone in Dream Butterfly Town.

At this point, Mu Sichen finally understood the truth behind the false souls.

Just like in this dream, his parents and the little octopus were false souls—yet they felt incredibly real.

Ninety percent of the false souls in Dream Butterfly Town were imagined by the living and then empowered by the butterflies, becoming more convincing and lifelike.

They carried the emotional attachments of the living, which was why it was so hard to distinguish them.

As for particularly unique false souls, such as the taxi driver, the restaurant’s vegetable chopper, or the chef, they were likely foundational dream constructs—false souls created either by the butterflies or the “Pillar” within the Ideal Restaurant’s dream.

There were many false souls like the taxi driver, lying dormant within dreams, obeying the will of the butterflies. They sought out souls from outside, transported them to different “pillars,” and turned them into sustenance for Dream Butterfly Town. These were false souls made by the butterflies.

The employees in the Ideal Restaurant, on the other hand, helped the “Pillar” process dreams—shaping them into the form that the Pillar desired. They were false souls created by the Pillar.

Dream Butterfly Town was one vast dream, yet also a space made up of countless smaller dreams. To Mu Sichen personally, Dream Butterfly Town, the Ideal Restaurant, and even this home were all part of the same dream. But for the town itself, it was a collection of many dreams.

No wonder the system had said that it was a dream, and also not a dream.

But even after figuring this out, Mu Sichen still couldn’t solve the two main problems: the location of the “Spiritual Sea of Consciousness” and the whereabouts of the “Pillar.”

He decided to set aside the sea of consciousness for now and focus on the Pillar’s location.

Based on his theory, the vegetable washer and the waiter were real souls, while the vegetable chopper and chef were false souls.

The waiter’s role was to monitor the service, lure in customers, and serve as an energy reserve; the vegetable washer absorbed negative emotions from the dreams and patched up any incomplete parts.

For example, dreams were often fragmented. People in dreams only vaguely recognized each other and couldn’t always clearly see faces. The missing parts were probably filled in using the emotional energy from the vegetable washer.

But in fact, once the vegetable washer had done their work, the dream would already be perfect. So why go further and chop the complete “ingredients” into smaller pieces and mix them? Wouldn’t that just break apart an already perfect dream? Why do this?

Could it be to mix different dreams together?

Mu Sichen realized that this family dream was actually a hybrid dream.

A complete dream would typically be two or three different ones: one where he came home to see his parents, one where the little octopus came to find him again, and maybe some fragmented dreams with warm-hearted teachings.

These dreams became ingredients—like strawberries, tomatoes, and bayberries—and were processed and blended into a fruit salad.

Indeed, chopping helped stitch different dreams together more seamlessly. But what was the purpose of cooking?

Mu Sichen felt this question was crucial—but he couldn’t figure it out just yet.

At that moment, the two adults and one octopus had already returned on the motorized airbike.

 

“Chenchen, this airbike is absolutely amazing!” His father’s clothes had somehow changed from a suit to trendy casual wear—and he even looked kind of cool. This dad was no longer acceptable. Though he still looked like Mu Sichen’s father, his essence had completely turned into He Fei’s dad.

His mother remained her usual gentle self. She said to Mu Sichen, “Chenchen, don’t you want to try it at least once? It’s a bit scary, but really fun. Besides, don’t you have a wish? Want to make one now?”

She signaled to the little octopus with her eyes, gently stroked Mu Sichen’s hair, and softly said, “I’ve always wanted to be a mother who understands her child and respects all his ideas, as long as they don’t violate morality or the law. But I just can’t accept a relationship with a sea creature. Still, you can make a wish, right? No matter what the little octopus turns into, as long as he is a person, and you love him, Mom will accept it.”

Mu Sichen: “…”

No, he couldn’t accept it.

The dream had by now clearly divided—his father and the motorized airbike merged perfectly into He Fei’s dream, developing magically and joyfully like an animation. His mother had stitched together Chi Lian’s dream, showing a simple, genuine family life.

Mu Sichen could clearly tell whose dream each scene belonged to.

He even felt that the “Pillar” might be right beside him—but he couldn’t reach it.

It was like two people sharing a bed, close enough to touch each other—but their dreams were worlds apart.

Between him and the “Pillar” laid the distance of a dream.

This distance was like a paper-thin cicada wing, yet he could find no way to pierce through it.

Looking at the three in front of him, Mu Sichen made a decision.

He said to the little octopus, “You go ahead and make a wish: wish to become human and be with me. If you like how you are now, then wish to have both forms and be able to switch anytime—then everyone’s happy.”

In this dream, Dad belonged to He Fei, Mom to Chi Lian, and only the little octopus was still his.

If the little octopus wished to become human, it was obvious who it would turn into.

Hearing Mu Sichen’s permission, the little octopus was indeed very happy. It quickly crawled to the side of the airbike, pressed its tentacle on the control panel, and looked serious, as if making a wish.

Mu Sichen quietly watched.

“Okay, I’ve received your wish—to become a handsome guy, right? I’ll make it happen now,” the motorized airbike said.

A faint purple light radiated from the little octopus, transforming it from an octopus into a tall man.

This man was very tall—almost 1.9 meters—much taller than the original 1.8-meter Mu Sichen.

Mu Sichen looked at his back and the image of Qin Zu flashed in his mind. He said, “You really became human—turn around so I can see.”

His father and mother also looked on expectantly at the tall man.

The tall man turned around, revealing a handsome face… one that Mu Sichen didn’t recognize at all.

Not only did he not look like Qin Zu—he didn’t resemble him in the slightest. He looked more like a classic, universally recognized handsome star from old times.

It wasn’t Qin Zu, but Mu Sichen wasn’t disappointed. Instead, he smiled knowingly.

His father stroked his chin looking at the tall man and said unhappily, “This wish made it too good-looking, huh? It’s okay to be better looking, but don’t surpass me. I have to make a wish to be handsome, dashing, and forever young.”

Mu Sichen’s father, looking even more like He Fei now, went over to the motorized airbike to make his wish.

His mother was comforted and said, “The little octopus really became… a lover who needs your understanding but is also human. Mom fully accepts your love. I know you’re excited now. Go have a good heart-to-heart with the little octopus—it’s okay to go back to your room afterward.”

His mother spoke tearfully.

The “little octopus” was also very happy. His big eyes blinked at Mu Sichen, still handsome but showing a very cute expression.

“Chenchen, do you like how I look?” the little octopus asked.

Mu Sichen smiled faintly and said emotionlessly, “Yes, I like it very much. You didn’t become Him, and that made me understand everything.”

This transformation finally pierced the veil of illusion.

“What’s your name?” Mu Sichen asked.

The “little octopus” froze for a moment, then shyly lowered its head and said, “I don’t have a name… Can Chenchen give me one?”

“Would you even dare use the name I give you?” Mu Sichen said coldly. “What if I call you Qin Zu—would you dare respond? You don’t even dare take on His appearance. You fear His power. You might as well give yourself a name to fool me.”

“Chenchen, what are you saying?” The “little octopus” was already on the verge of tears.

But Mu Sichen was growing ever more lucid.

If this were truly his original, unprocessed dream, the little octopus would have turned into Qin Zu—because in Mu Sichen’s mind, the two were interchangeable.

But here, even if he wished for it, the little octopus didn’t dare take Qin Zu’s form.

Because divine might was like a prison.

How could a mere Pillar dare to invoke Qin Zu’s name in His domain, take on His likeness, and risk drawing His gaze?

It wouldn’t dare!

Even if it had lost its intelligence and only functioned through preset rules, the command “Thou shalt not profane the divine” was etched into its code, carved into its totemic markings.

Yet by logic, the little octopus should have become Qin Zu. So what force altered its form—into a celebrity Mu Sichen had once liked?

This question was connected to another: Why did the chef cook dreams?

And the answer emerged.

Simply put, the fake souls cooked dreams in order to manipulate them, guiding them along the most perfect path. The fact that the little octopus didn’t become Qin Zu, and instead turned into someone Mu Sichen found tolerable, meant it was being controlled.

Absorbing dreams, cleansing dreams, slicing dreams—then the final step: adding “seasoning” to each dream fragment for a better flavor.

Father Mu, the air bike, his mother, the little octopus, even this house—each fragment was threaded with the same controlling string, puppeteering this dream.

Mu Sichen rolled his eyes—literally—activating the “Eye of Truth,” and observed every element of the dream.

All that was known, must be seen.

This was the power of the Big-Eye.

Even though the Pillar was protected by its domain and the Eye of Truth couldn’t yet reveal its true form, as long as Mu Sichen unraveled the mystery, the Eye would help him see everything.

Everyone in the room—even the furniture—was connected by invisible threads, all converging in one direction, pointing to a specific room.

Mu Sichen stared in that direction and said with certainty, “Found you. The Pillar of the Ideal Restaurant… and the ‘Sea of Consciousness.’”

He looked into the distance. Beyond his room, countless other threads converged from all directions toward that same point.

Even from the center of his own forehead, a thread pointed there.

The “Sea of Consciousness” was the collective unconscious formed by all people’s subconscious minds. Vast enough to be boundless, small enough to fit inside a single brain.

So distant, it existed in another time-space; so near, it lived in everyone’s dreams.

As long as one discovered it, they could follow the thread to the Sea of Consciousness.

You could enter it—but you may not see its entirety. You could only perceive the part your cognition allowed.

And the “Pillar” hid at the Sea of Consciousness’s edge, using its power to conceal its position.

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TN:

I miss the ML😔