Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Mist swirled around towering palaces, and the Moon God Pavilion flourished more than ever before. New disciples had been admitted in great numbers, and visitors came in an endless stream. Powerful cultivators could be seen everywhere, their numbers beyond count.

The disciples moving about within the sect carried themselves with newfound confidence, their vigor and youthful energy making the place all the more alluring.

Between the inner and outer sect divisions, a secluded alchemy courtyard originally designated for outer sect use was now unusually crowded. Over a hundred people waited quietly outside its gates—many of them Moon God Pavilion disciples—making it as bustling as the residence of an inner sect elder.

Despite the closed gate and a sign that read, "No visitors unless urgent matters require," the crowd showed no signs of dispersing.

The reason? This courtyard belonged to Alchemy Elder Feng Tianquan.

Gazing at the lively scene outside from the teahouse window of the pavilion, Hu Weifang chuckled lightly.

"Elder Feng, your reputation and prestige truly know no bounds."

The moment the words left his mouth, the old man beside him shot him a glare.

"Still cracking jokes, brat?"

"You’re not much better yourself. If not, you wouldn’t be hiding in this old man’s courtyard. Fame is a double-edged sword, after all."

Hearing this, Hu Weifang could only offer a helpless, bitter smile.

"Ah."

"Who would’ve thought? We merely accompanied the Holy Maiden to Cloud Star once, and she, not forgetting our minor contributions, promoted us to the inner court."

"Now, with her status soaring and her cultivation breaking through, we’ve somehow risen along with her, swarmed by visitors seeking favors… It’s exhausting."

"Yet, our cultivation is weak, and we have no special talents to assist her. We fear we might fail to live up to her high expectations."

Though gratitude shone in their eyes, a trace of worry lingered beneath.

They had once been an ordinary elder and disciple, but in the blink of an eye, they had been elevated to great honor and status, forging an unlikely friendship in the process.

What had been a trivial gesture for Yin Xianyun was a life-changing opportunity for them. Yet, they had no way to repay her kindness, leaving them burdened with guilt and a sense of unworthiness.

Thus, though they now belonged to the inner sect, they chose to remain in the outer sect, avoiding gossip that might tarnish the Holy Maiden’s reputation.

As they chatted lightly, a sect disciple outside the courtyard announced a visitor.

Hearing the message, Feng Tianquan’s eyes flickered with surprise.

Noticing his reaction, Hu Weifang asked curiously,

"Elder Feng, is something troubling you? If there’s any difficulty, I’ll do my best to help. And if I can’t, the Holy Maiden surely won’t stand by idly."

Feng Tianquan nodded gratefully, waving a hand dismissively.

"It’s nothing serious. We mustn’t disturb the Holy Maiden."

"An old friend’s son has come to see me. I never had much interaction with him, so I suspect he’s heard the rumors and is here to seek help."

His aged face clouded with reminiscence as he sighed.

"His name is Luo Buqun. I’ve heard he’s been idle and unambitious since childhood. But his father was once close to me and entrusted me with his care before passing. I suppose I must meet him, though I don’t know if it’ll be for better or worse."

Understanding the delicacy of the matter, Hu Weifang simply nodded.

Before long, Luo Buqun was escorted into the Moon God Pavilion by a sect disciple. The sight of the crowd gathered outside the courtyard sent his heart racing—his initial excitement turning to sheer astonishment.

What an unexpected windfall!

He had assumed Feng Tianquan was just an outer sect elder with little influence, so he hadn’t held much hope for this visit.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this!

The line of people seeking an audience with Feng Tianquan stretched like a dragon, numbering well over a hundred at a glance.

As he walked forward, overwhelming auras brushed past him—Saint-level experts were everywhere!

For Feng Tianquan to have so many powerful figures seeking his favor… his influence must be unimaginable!

Good heavens, had he just stumbled upon a colossal backer?!

Walking between the crowd, Luo Buqun trembled under the pressure of their auras, yet he couldn’t suppress his rising euphoria.

Especially when he noticed the envious and curious glances cast his way by the gathered elites.

He was just the leader of a minor sect—what right did he have to be envied by so many experts?

At this moment, Luo Buqun felt as if he had reached the pinnacle of his life. Without anyone telling him, he knew—he had stumbled upon a heaven-defying opportunity!

Even his wildest dreams paled in comparison!

With each step, his confidence swelled, his demeanor transforming.

From a nervous, cowering figure, he straightened his back and strode proudly into the courtyard in mere moments, his entire bearing elevated.

Only once inside did he rein in his excitement, adopting a humble expression once more.

Ascending the pavilion, he saw the white-haired elder he hadn’t met in years and immediately prostrated himself, his voice choked with emotion.

"Uncle Feng! You must stand up for your nephew!"

Starting with a plea for help wasn’t unexpected, but the overly familiar tone and exaggerated grief made Feng Tianquan—a seasoned and steady alchemy elder—instantly suspicious.

His voice turned grave as he fixed Luo Buqun with a piercing gaze.

"What exactly happened? Why are you in such distress?"

Luo Buqun’s acting skills erupted on cue, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Uncle Feng!"

"Your nephew is useless, with no talent to speak of! I’ve shamed my father’s name!"

Opening with a sob story while cleverly invoking his father’s memory struck a chord in Feng Tianquan. Even Hu Weifang watched with growing curiosity.

Luo Buqun’s face was deathly pale, his expression a mix of humiliation and grief.

"Uncle Feng, you must understand!"

"With my meager cultivation, I dared not vie for spirit-rich lands, so I founded a small sect in Falling Petal Valley just to survive. But then a tyrant appeared, colluding with local aristocratic families to oppress us with overwhelming power, even threatening to wipe out my sect!"

"Several elders have already died, our treasures plundered! I’m powerless to resist, but I can’t bear to let their deaths go unavenged! That’s why I’ve swallowed my pride to beg for your help, Uncle Feng! You must uphold justice for me!"

His words were flawless, his tone and expression perfectly crafted.

To sell the act further, he even forced blood to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

Hearing that his old friend’s son had lived humbly only to be bullied to this extent—who wouldn’t feel rage and guilt?

Feng Tianquan’s voice sharpened.

"Who dares act with such savagery?!"

Sensing the fury in his tone, Luo Buqun rejoiced inwardly but maintained his grief-stricken facade. With a flick of his fingers, he conjured an image in the air.

"It’s this man! Flaunting his Saint-level cultivation, he kills, steals, and humiliates me at every turn!"

As the rippling image gradually stabilized, Feng Tianquan’s burning anger began to fade…

By the time the vision cleared completely, revealing a young, refined face—

In an instant!

Feng Tianquan’s aged eyes widened in shock, and Hu Weifang leapt from his chair in disbelief. Both men stared at the unforgettable visage, their pupils trembling violently.

This—

This was none other than Yi Feng, the senior they had met back in Cloud Star!