Reborn as a good-for-nothing in the cultivation world, I discovered the truth about reality: this world is nothing but one vast shared dream. Cultivation, as it turns out, means plundering other people's dreams to weave illusions of your own. They steal the legacies of sword immortals and the ambitions of emperors, refining them into their "innate dreamscapes." All I can dream about, however, is sweeping floors. Then one day, I was punished by being sent to guard the forbidden ground known as the "Dream Tomb," where I touched the dreams imprisoned there. The terror of the dead from battlefields, the tenacious obsession a scholar had held for ten years... They roared in my mind. I didn't go mad. Instead, I "woke up." Now all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens see me as a "dream demon" and want me dead. They don't understand: I don't steal dreams, and I don't destroy them. I simply remain absolutely clearheaded within them.
