The Fang Family Manor was not merely a residence—it was a silent structure of authority, disgrace, and order, where every building reflected one's standing within the family.
Standing directly at the main entrance was the central house, the most dignified and imposing structure in the entire manor. This was where the Fang Family Head resided, and it also contained the Family Meeting Hall, the place where all important matters of the Fang Family were decided. Unlike the other houses, this main residence rose three floors high, symbolizing absolute authority within the family.
To the left of the main house stood a two-story residence. This was where Fang Hanbo lived with his wife, Su'er. Fang Hanbo had once been regarded as an elder brother figure within the Fang Family, someone who once held the right to stand close to the position of Family Head. However, due to certain actions he did ,he was removed from all eligibility related to the position of Family Head. Though he was allowed to remain within the Fang Family, his residence being placed away from the central house served as a quiet reminder of his fall.
On the right side of the main house was another two-story building, constructed to accommodate guests and servants. At present, this was where the Rukhan Lineage stayed. The building was modest and practical, lacking any prestige—clearly marking the boundary between those of the Fang Family and those merely staying within it.
Aside from the residence of the Family Head, all other houses in the manor were limited to two floors. No one, regardless of status, was permitted to surpass the height of the central house.
That night, on the second floor of the right-side house, Ling'er—who was escorting Vren to his lineage quarters—held the sword she had borrowed from him.
She murmured under her breath, "What kind of sword is this…? It has no sharpness, no shine, and its thickness makes it unbearably heavy. It's so old that even the edge is ruined… How could that boy even carry it properly? I can barely lift it myself."
Her brows knitted in irritation. "Ah, Fang Lin… Did you really intend for me to do all this work? Because of you, Fang Qing came back injured today… And now, with some artifact in your hands, you've become so cruel."
With a flash of anger, she lifted the sword above her head. "I will never forgive you!" she hissed, then let the weapon fall back down.
"Ugh… how do people even wield this sword? I'm just a servant, how am I supposed to handle it?"
As she had raised the sword, the moonlight caught its exposed edge. The reflection shot straight across to the second floor of the left-side house, landing in a room there, glinting faintly in the darkness.
Ling'er did not notice it.
***************
In the silent room, Fang Hanbo lay on the bed, turned to the other side, lost in sleep. Su'er, however, remained awake, her gaze fixed on the gate. She murmured softly, almost to herself, "Why is everyone so obsessed with Fang Lin? Before the awakening, he was bullied anyway… and now that he's reached A-grade, when there should finally be a time for him to rise, they tried to kill him again. This world… it truly is cruel."
Fang Hanbo, half-asleep, muttered, "Su'er, don't worry so much. He has that artifact now. Nothing can touch him. You should sleep; we have to go to Tian Court tomorrow."
Su'er nodded slowly, whispering, "Yes… alright."
Then, as her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight, a faint reflection caught her attention. An azure-blue aura danced across her vision. Her eyes widened involuntarily. "That… that's the sword!" she murmured, a mixture of shock and recognition in her voice.
Jumping out of bed, she rushed toward the window, but by the time she looked, Ling'er had already carried the sword downstairs. Su'er hesitated, muttering, "That… that's the same sword my daughter used…"
Heart pounding, she grabbed Fang Hanbo by the shoulder, her voice urgent yet trembling, "Hanbo! I saw the sword's light—the one our daughter used. When she wielded it at night, it cast reflections… I saw it, I really saw it!"
Fang Hanbo opened his eyes slowly, confusion etched on his face. "What are you saying? How could she be our daughter? She left here long ago… Su'er, you must be imagining things, influenced by what you heard today about him…"
But Su'er's gaze did not waver. The azure glow had awakened something deep in her memory, a memory and a truth she could not deny…
*************
On the right side of the Fang Family manor, the same house where Fang Hanbo and Su'er resided, the outermost room on the first floor belonged to Fang Lin.
The night had already grown deep.
Cold winds began to flow through the manor, slipping silently through the corridors and wooden frames.
As Fang Lin entered his room, he calmly placed his flute, a pouch of spiritual stones, and a jade pill box—still containing several remaining pills—inside a wooden cabinet.
On the bench nearby lay a sword manual, its cover clearly marked with the words:
Void Severance Strike.
Beside it rested the Blazing Ember Sword. Fang Lin then carefully placed another sword next to it—
Azure Silent Gleam, the blade Mu Chen had given him.
In the corner of the room, an unremarkable fragment of abysswood lay discarded. It looked like a piece of dead, blackened wood—lifeless, dull, and without the slightest hint of sharpness or aura.
A single candle burned steadily within the room, its flame illuminating the space while also keeping the chill at bay, casting long shadows that danced quietly along the walls.
Fang Lin lay on his bed, both hands crossed behind his head, eyes fixed on the chandelier above, its crystals glinting softly in the candlelight.
A white blanket was pulled up over his chest, shielding him from the cold night air, yet leaving his posture relaxed and unguarded.
The flickering light of the candle and the subtle reflection from the chandelier danced across the room, casting fleeting shadows that seemed almost alive, as if the manor itself were holding its breath.
Fang Lin murmured softly to himself,
"It feels… as though the time for my departure has arrived.
I still can't truly believe that I'm living inside a world that feels like a dream—
yet every sensation is as real as life itself.
This… this is my Martial Dream.
For me, it is not just a fleeting fantasy, but a place where everything feels tangible, alive."
His voice was low, almost blending into the silence of the room.
"On Earth, countless people dream of such a world.
A world where magic exists, where beasts roam freely,
where immortality is not a myth but a goal one can strive for.
For them, it remains nothing more than a fragile fantasy.
Dreams on Earth fade with the dawn…
or vanish entirely after a few days.
But this Martial Dream is different."
He slowly raised his right hand into the air, gazing at it under the candlelight.
"This dream doesn't fade.
I remember everything.
And more frightening still… I can return to it again and again.
That's something ordinary dreams can never grant."
His fingers curled slightly, as if trying to grasp the air itself.
"Right now, it feels like I've truly become a part of this world—
or perhaps, a part of this dream itself.
I want to sleep here…
not just to awaken back in my original body,
but to feel that I truly belong to this Martial Dream."
The room remained silent, yet the weight of his words lingered, as though the world itself was listening.
Just as Fang Lin lowered his hand, lost in his thoughts, a sharp "knock… knock…" echoed from the door outside.
The sound was faint, deliberate… deliberate enough to make the blood in his veins tighten.
Fang Lin didn't move immediately. His eyes, still fixed on the candlelight flickering across the room, narrowed slightly. Who could be here at this hour? he wondered.
The Martial Dream was silent around him, yet that single knock carried weight—like the prelude to a storm.
His instincts whispered: not all who come knocking in the night bring goodwill.
Fang Lin slowly rose from the bed, the white blanket sliding slightly down his chest, and took a silent step toward the door.
Every sense was alert, every shadow a potential threat…
The knock came again. "Knock… knock…"
This time, the sound seemed to vibrate through the floorboards, echoing off the wooden walls, demanding attention.
Fang Lin murmured under his breath, his voice calm but deadly:
"So… someone has finally decided to enter my Martial Dream."
__ _ _ _ __
Outside the door
Ling'er clenched her teeth in irritation, muttering under her breath.
"Damn Fang Lin… what's wrong with him now? He tells me to return the sword, and then he goes to sleep like a dead log."
Her grip tightened around the crude, heavy blade.
"Why is it always me who gets pushed around? Everyone orders me, everyone uses me… My luck must truly be cursed for ending up here."
She stopped in front of the door.
Her eyes darkened.
"That's it. I've had enough. Who would even be awake at this hour anyway?"
She raised the sword toward the center of the door, anger bubbling over.
"If you don't open… I'll just break this damn thing!"
Ling'er took a step back, both hands gripping the sword tightly, her body tensing as she prepared to swing.
__ _ _ _ _ __
Inside the room
Fang Lin was already walking toward the door, his brows slightly furrowed.
"I clearly told Wei Shun that no one should come while I'm asleep…" he murmured.
Then his eyes shifted, realization striking him.
"…Right. He must have already gone to rest."
He exhaled softly.
"Fine. Let's see who's in such a hurry to meet me."
His hand reached out and pulled the door open.
In that instant—
Ling'er charged forward with full force, the sword slashing toward him without restraint.
Both of them froze in shock the moment their eyes met.
Too late.
"What—are you trying to kill me?" Fang Lin shouted, his voice sharp with shock and anger.