What lay in front of Mu Chen and Xiao Diao was a labyrinthine network of corridors stretched out in every direction, criss-crossing like the veins of a titan. Some were carved from jagged obsidian, others glowed with a faint, bioluminescent moss, but all of them seemed to hum with an ancient, rhythmic power.
Xiao Diao, perched atop Mu Chen's shoulder, twitched his whiskers as he scanned the various openings. His golden eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity.
"Mu Chen, which corridor should we choose?"
Mu Chen paused at the intersection, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He looked at the dozen different paths with a look of pure, unadulterated laziness. "What a trouble," he sighed, his voice echoing through the stone halls. "Why do these hidden realms always have to be so complicated?"
Xiao Diao pointed a tiny, sharp claw toward a corridor on the far right. "How about this one? I can smell the fragrance of herbs. Not just common weeds, either. We're talking about the kind of stuff that makes the soul itch."
A heavy, intoxicating fragrance of high-grade spiritual pills was drifting from the depths of that specific hallway. It was a smell that promised power, longevity, and a massive amount of spiritual energy.
"Okay," Mu Chen nodded as he began to walk toward the source of the aroma.
...
The walk was shorter than expected. Soon, they reached the end of the corridor, where a massive stone door blocked their path. It was engraved with intricate, glowing runes that pulsated with a faint blue light.
As Mu Chen approached, the door didn't resist; instead, the runes flared brightly before the stone slabs groaned and parted, sliding into the walls like a welcoming host opening his gates to a long-awaited guest.
What lay behind the door was a sight that would have been declared as Holy Land of Medicine from any Master Alchemist. It was a hidden garden, an oasis of life buried deep within the earth.
Spiritual herbs grew in wild profusion—thousand-year blood ginseng with crimson roots pulsing like heartbeats, frost lilies shedding petals of frozen light, dragon-whisker grass swaying without wind, releasing medicinal fragrance so thick it formed visible clouds in the air.
The soil itself was a rich, dark black, filled with such immense vitality that it seemed to vibrate underfoot. In the center of this botanical treasure trove stood a quiet courtyard, and in front of that courtyard was a singular, towering tree.
Its branches were sprawling and vast, covering the entire garden like a celestial canopy. Underneath the tree's shade stood an ancient bronze cauldron, surrounded by a small hill of finished pills scattered on the ground like common pebbles.
But none of those things held their attention for long. On one of the lowest branches of the ancient tree, a single fruit hung.
It was teardrop-shaped and roughly the size of a child's fist. The skin was a translucent membrane. A single black dewdrop clung to its base—a droplet so impossibly dark it gave the illusion of containing actual, distant stars trapped within its depth.
Then, the scent hit them. It was a smell of nothing, and then suddenly, of everything forgotten. It smelled of childhood laughter, the weight of a dead master's last words, and the heavy silence that follows a killing. It was the scent of memory's origin, the fleeting moment before waking when the soul still touches dream-visited places.
Xiao Diao's golden eyes widened as his breath hitched. "It's really the Dreamwake Fruit," he whispered, his voice cracking with awe.
Mu Chen's deadpan, lazy demeanor vanished for a split second. It wasn't greed that replaced it, but a genuine spark of interest. He looked at the fruit, then at the mink on his shoulder. "Diao, congrats. You've officially got the nose of a dog."
"Dog?" The mink's tail poofed to twice its size. "I'll show you dog! Next time, I'll wait until you're asleep and chew every single one of your mother's preserved meats!" He caught himself, breathing hard. "You little brat, I smell treasure."
Mu Chen chuckled, ignoring the mink's indignation.
"Here I come!" Xiao Diao hopped down from Mu Chen's shoulder, his small body turning into a purplish-black blur as he flew toward the fruit.
However, as his claws reached out to grasp the treasure, the ancient tree seemed to sense the intrusion. Its branches, which had looked dead and stationary a moment ago, suddenly turned a violent, blood-red color.
The leaves rustled with a sound like grinding bone. The branches whipped through the air with the sole purpose of seeking to pierce any intruder and suck their blood until they were nothing more than a dried corpse.
Xiao Diao snorted in disdain. "Humph! You evil tree! You want to eat me? Stop Daydreaming."
The mink waved his paw downward. Behind him, a massive, translucent claw manifested, wreathed in purple and black lightning. The nails were sharp enough to pierce the foundations of a mountain. With a grunt of effort, Xiao Diao slammed the demonic claw down onto the swaying branches.
Ting! Ting!
A series of metallic clangs rang through the garden as the blood-red branches struck the phantom claw. The tree tried to pierce the skin of the manifestation, but it couldn't find a single weakness. Among the four Overlord Beast Clans, the Heavenly Demon Mink's physical strength was only surpassed by the Dragon Clan. A mere guardian tree stood no chance.
Realizing it was outmatched, the ancient tree seemed to resign itself to its fate. The red luster faded from its bark, the branches returning to a dull green and becoming as still as stone once more.
Xiao Diao grasped the Dreamwake Fruit and gave it a sharp tug, pulling it from the branch. He returned to Mu Chen, playing with the fruit by tossing it up and down in his palm. "Muchen, what should we do with this?"
Mu Chen thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to the shimmering fruit. "It looks a bit too pretty to just eat. How about we brew some wine out of it?"
Xiao Diao froze, the fruit mid-air. "Wine?"
He paused, a slow grin spreading across his face. "That's a great idea. But isn't the fruit a bit short on volume to make a full jar?"
Mu Chen pointed at the vast medicine garden surrounding them. "We have plenty of ingredients."
"That'll work," Diao laughed, tossing the Dreamwake Fruit toward Mu Chen.
For any other Golden Core cultivator, this would have been a moment of high tension. But for Xiao Diao, a breakthrough wasn't a concern. Before he had been reduced to a remnant soul, he had been a peak Nascent Soul expert. Recovering his strength was merely a matter of time. Being with Mu Chen, he felt no pressure to rush his cultivation.
Mu Chen waved his hand casually and the garden began to glow. The essence of the thousand-year-old spiritual herbs—the ginseng, the lilies, the grass—was gently drawn out. Glowing orbs of pure life-force rose from the plants, drifting toward Mu Chen like fireflies. He didn't damage the roots; by leaving them intact, the herbs would eventually regrow by soaking up the vitality of the black soil and spiritual energy from heaven and Earth.
Xiao Diao watched with his arms folded, a look of amusement on his face. He watched as Mu Chen gathered the collective essence of the entire garden, condensing it into a single, brilliant golden dew droplet that hovered in the air.
"Go," Mu Chen muttered.
The Dreamwake Fruit rose into the air, meeting the golden droplet. They began to blend, the silver mist of the fruit swirling into the golden essence of the herbs. Mu Chen waved his hand again, and a few leaves from the ancient tree flew into the mix, acting as a binding agent for the volatile energies.
At this moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor. A group of cultivators burst into the chamber, their eyes wide with greed that quickly turned into absolute terror as they saw who was standing in the center of the garden.
Mu Chen didn't even look back. "Yes?"
The cultivators, remembering him, immediately bent a little. They bowed respectfully, clasped their hands. "Sorry to disturb Senior! We... we didn't know you were here! Since Senior has already claimed the Dreamwake Fruit, we humbly congratulate Senior on his fortune!"
In the world of cultivation, "Senior" was a title earned by strength, not years. And right now, Mu Chen looked like a god among the greenery.
"Mn," Mu Chen nodded.
The group didn't wait for a second invitation. They scrambled backward and disappeared into the corridor, terrified that any mishap might befall them.
...
As the interlopers fled, a powerful, intoxicating fragrance began to drift through the garden. It was a scent so strong that a single breath made the world seem to blur. It was the kind of smell that made people lose themselves in their own memories, unable to distinguish between the real world and the illusions of the mind.
"Mu Chen, this smell alone is enough to make me drunk," Xiao Diao commented, his head swaying slightly.
Mu Chen smiled, satisfied with the result. He reached into the Origin Stone and pulled out a clean, empty jar. With a flick of his finger, the single drop of condensed essence—now a deep, shimmering purple—fell into the jar.
The moment it touched the bottom, it exploded. Not in a physical blast, but in volume. The single drop expanded rapidly, filling the jar to the brim with a clear, glowing liquid.
"Mu Chen, give me a glass. I can't wait anymore!" Xiao Diao urged, his tail twitching.
Mu Chen sat down under the shade of the ancient tree. He filled two small glasses with the "Dreamwake Wine" and handed one to the mink.
Mu Chen took a leisurely sip, leaning back against the trunk as the flavors exploded across his palate. But Xiao Diao, who took a much larger gulp, froze instantly. His golden eyes glazed over, and he began to speak in a low, dazed voice.
"I am the heir of the Heavenly Demon Mink clan... it has been thousands of years since I last saw the spires of my home. How are my parents doing? When I was a child, I used to hide in the forbidden archives just to avoid the elders..."
He was lost. He spoke of his childhood, of his training, of the wars he had seen, and the loneliness of being a soul for a millennium. He rambled on, sometimes speaking to Mu Chen and sometimes to ghosts only he could see.
Mu Chen didn't interrupt him. He simply sat there, taking silent sips of the wine and listening to the history of a fallen overlord.
By the time half a day had passed, the wine's effect finally began to wane. Xiao Diao blinked, his eyes clearing. To his surprise, his cultivation had progressed significantly; he had jumped from the peak of the Golden Core realm to the half-step Nascent Soul stage.
Then, the memories of what he had said came flooding back. He looked at Mu Chen, who was watching him with a teasing, knowing smile. The mink's face turned a violent shade of purple red. His demonic dignity and his bloodthirsty reputation had all been sacrificed in a drunken ramble.
"Want another glass?" Mu Chen joked, holding up the jar.
"No need!" Xiao Diao snapped, hopping onto Mu Chen's shoulder and burying his face in his fur. "It wasn't even that good! Too much ginseng, not enough kick! I've had better collection!"
Mu Chen chuckled, standing up and dusting off his robes. He looked toward the quiet building at the back of the garden. "Let's go inside the courtyard and take a look."
The mink nodded, though he refused to look Mu Chen in the eye, and the two walked toward the ancient building.