Dreams do not disappear after a person falls asleep. Those deepest obsessions - the pain of breaking a leg bone, the hatred that has replaced a lifetime, the last breath before hanging - will overflow from the mind and condense into an independent space. This is called the Dream Realm.
Ordinary people go crazy when they enter. Only the dreamer can enter the dream, "bite" off the core obsession, swallow it into his own soul, and let the nightmare completely dissipate.
The price is that the pain is yours.
My name is Chen Xing, the lowest-level dream substitute in Yanzhou. There is something in my brain that has been hungry for three years. If I don't swallow the real dream core, the brain tissue will dissolve. Master Qian disappeared three years ago and left behind a sentence: "After seven cores, don't trust anyone." My mother was left lying in the special needs ward of the Meng family, taking a sky-high price medicine every week to keep her alive - later I saw with "resentful" eyes that a mechanical leech had been planted in her brain, chewing up the memories she remembered of me.
There is an old stage in Cloister Town. There were empty clothes folded on hundreds of empty benches under the stage. When the gong sounded, the clothes puffed up on their own, waiting for people to get back in. The opera woman was hanged a hundred years ago. But her dream is still singing - she is used as a battery by the Meng family, who squeezes the dream core day and night, refines it into Po Meng ointment and sells it to the powerful.
I am the only one who can crush that dream core. Every time you swallow one, there will be an additional brand on your left arm. When all seven are collected, I myself will be the door.
There is no system. No cheats. There is only hunger. Only one person chewed up the entire industrial chain and swallowed it. Finally, keep one thing - your dreams are your own decision.
