"Sleepwalking?"

Under the blazing autumn sun, the old house in Cliff City remained cool.

Tong Ting lowered his eyes, staring at the bizarre spiritual insect in his hand that fluttered but couldn't escape, and couldn't help but sigh with frustration:

"Why have there been more dramas in Cliff City these past two years than in my entire life?

It feels like humans and ghosts are here to stir up chaos..."

He paused, looking at the elderly man cooling himself by the pond: "Dad, did you choose the wrong place? Is there a problem with our family's feng shui?"

"Indeed, you've finally realized?"

Tong Yuan glanced at his unruly heir with a half-smile: "Should I help you find a favorable feng shui spot and bury you to balance things out?

I might as well give you my Chinese boxwood coffin for cheap; first come, first served."

"I was wrong—"

Tong Ting immediately gave in; he didn't want to roll down the mountainside all the way to the bottom. If he was stubborn, his dad could roll him straight into the Nandu River.

"Can't you take a look at this? What on earth is this thing?"

He opened his five fingers, tossing the insect Tong Hua had brought back, and instantly, the spiritual insect unfolded its wings, flying aimlessly yet always circling around the elder's recliner.

Until finally, Tong Yuan held out his hand, and it hovered there.

Folding its cicada wings.

Grooming its antennae like a real insect.

Occasionally emitting faint calls, summoning companions.

Although it was a phenomenon resulting from the mutation of residual spiritual fragments, it seemed like...

A living being?

Tong Yuan lowered his gaze.

At this moment, under those old, clouded eyes, a perspective far beyond Tong Ting's began—the Heavenly People's view.

It's not through one's insight to break through disguises and concealments, but instead, it's through one's observation, reversing everything in this world to reveal its essence.

Events unfold, essence points towards, and then the true name appears!

For a moment, the spiritual insect at the elder's fingertips once again disintegrated, becoming a swirling halo of light. As the spiritual energy spread, the information it carried was transcribed anew.

Amidst the changing rainbow light, countless impulses emerged like tides—wanting to eat, wanting to sleep, wanting pleasure, wanting women, wanting men, wanting to kill everything disliked...

When consciousness dissipates and the soul collapses, the residue sedimented within the spiritual energy, the mutation and activation of human's grand desires.

This is what remains of the patient's 'desires' in the mortal world.

"But what about consciousness?" Tong Ting frowned, "Where does consciousness and self go?"

"Isn't it right there in its name?"

Tong Yuan countered, "Sleepwalking... Those dreams have long taken consciousness and self away; no, it's more like they have merged into those elusive dreams."

After losing attachment and longing for the mortal world, one turns towards endless beautiful dreams, yearning for a night of pleasure and peace...

Dissociating from the fetters of body and life, and from the soul hatches such a moth.

The beautiful dream became a butterfly, and it continues to this day.

"Like a dream of Huangliang."

Tong Yuan sighed: "The gifts and poison from the Lord of Huangliang; the Dream Maker invites those in pain to abandon the world and accept the invitation to the Land of Eternal Nothingness."

This is the true nature of sleepwalking—the remnants from the chaos era left until now, a trivial portion of the achievements and evil deeds made by the Kings.

In that era where the Superior hadn't fully manifested, the world after the fall of the gods was chaotic, its madness and horror far beyond what people of today can imagine.

Even the tyrannical rulers of the Eternal Empire couldn't compare.

After all, anyone who can leave a mark in history surely has some extraordinary skills?

And as representatives, the Kings of the chaos era each possessed astonishing wisdom and treacherous hearts, a gathering of heroes, immortal beings as prolific as hemp.

The thief of fire intended to monopolize the world's flame, the Weaver sought to include all living beings into the fate they wove, and the Illuminator wanted to gather the souls of all things to ignite and become a second sun.

And the Dream Maker, known as the Lord of Huangliang, the King of Huaxu, rivaled them and perhaps even surpassed.

Unsatisfied with the dullness and boredom of waking life, the former Lord of dreams and desires went mad and fused his dreams with reality, blending them, creating the so-called Myriad Phenomena Paradise... claiming to fulfill all desires, embodying all worldly goodness.

Like Heaven.

In a dream-like beautiful time, violent pleasures persisted for ninety-one years, drawing countless people from all corners who willingly abandoned everything in reality, hoping to indulge in a grand dream... Until finally, when the moment of awakening arrived, the overlapping dreams tore a part of reality along with it, welcoming destruction and void.

The King of Huaxu and his Myriad Phenomena Joy Map thus fell apart, disappearing without a trace.

Yet the disaster and shock he caused continue to deeply impact the entire world, and even since then, a fissure seems innate in the consciousnesses and souls of all sentient beings. Some individuals are born with incomplete awareness... Congenitally defective.

"Strictly speaking, sleepwalking isn't a disease, but rather like an Upper-level Summoning ceremony, except the ceremony is long out of control, unattended."

Tong Yuan slowly said: "In the former chaos era, what we call sleepwalking was the public announcement and invitation of the King of Huaxu to the entire world.

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