Chapter 123: Dream Seen Through
When Mo Lin fled to the banks of the Ning River, he ran straight into Dong Li and his six companions.
Together, they unleashed the Yongzhou Chamber of Commerce’s ultimate combined technique, the “Dragon-Binding Net,” firmly restraining Mo Lin within it.
The “Dragon-Binding Net” emphasized balance and stability. It required eight individuals of comparable strength to jointly cast this spell, exerting suppressive force upon the target.
If there were only four people, and if by chance the spellcasters’ power faltered for a brief instant, the one bound by the Dragon-Binding Net might seize that opportunity to break free.
In reality, that was exactly how Mo Lin had managed to escape before. This was also the only true “weakness” of the Dragon-Binding Net.
Having personally witnessed Mo Lin’s miraculous maneuver to escape the “Dragon-Binding Net,” Jingyue naturally would not allow such a possibility to happen again within the dream.
After all, unlike that time, in this dream there were seven people casting the “Dragon-Binding Net” simultaneously.
No matter how formidable Mo Lin was, was it possible for him to force all seven people’s power to falter at the same instant?
That was simply impossible.
Thus, “Dong Li” merely played the role of an ordinary dream figure, watching coldly as Mo Lin struggled with all his might within the Dragon-Binding Net.
But in that very moment, Jingyue suddenly noticed Mo Lin’s expression shift. His face became incomparably calm and detached.
It was as if he had originally been a mere pawn within the story woven for him, trapped and unable to extricate himself.
Yet now, he seemed to have withdrawn from the role of pawn, becoming instead an observer, regarding the unfolding scene with a composure bordering on indifference.
This startled “Dong Li,” causing his hand to falter slightly.
What was going on with Mo Lin?
He was clearly trapped, doomed with no escape—so why did it feel as though he had seen through everything?
Could it be…
Just as “Dong Li” was pondering, he was suddenly struck by Mo Lin turning his head to look directly at him, bright light flashing in his eyes:
“An illusion?”
The moment those words fell, “Dong Li” was shocked.
He had seen through the dream!
Not only that, he had also clearly discerned something amiss with “Dong Li’s” identity!
Where had the flaw been exposed?
Was it in that slight hesitation just now? Or had Mo Lin already seen through him earlier?
Even if Mo Lin might have pierced his disguise, “Dong Li” still forced a stern look upon his face:
“Anaconda Demon, you are at death’s door, yet you still spout nonsense?!”
“Submit obediently, and we may yet leave you a complete corpse!”
However, facing “Dong Li’s” threat, Mo Lin no longer carried the panic of one trapped in another’s game. Instead, his gaze was filled with clarity and wisdom:
“Enough pretending. You are not Dong Li. I’ve already seen through you.”
Seeing this, Jingyue sighed helplessly. Reaching out, he brushed a hand across his form, and the plump figure of “Dong Li” instantly shifted into that of a well-proportioned bald monk.
Upon seeing Jingyue’s true appearance, Mo Lin’s pupils contracted:
“Illusion… a monk… what relation do you have to Jingchen and Wuzhen?”
Jingyue pressed his palms together and bowed:
“Amitabha. This humble monk’s Dharma name is Jingyue, from the White Horse Temple, senior fellow disciple to Jingchen.”
Mo Lin understood instantly, his eyes flashing with light:
“So, you’ve come to avenge Jingchen and Wuzhen?”
Mo Lin did not bother concealing the fact that he had killed Jingchen and Wuzhen. After all, though he had inadvertently fallen into Jingyue’s carefully constructed dream, that did not mean he had forgotten his own reality.
In his dream, Jingchen and Wuzhen had indeed appeared.
Though in the dream it was they who killed Mo Lin, in reality it was he who survived—thus the fate of the missing Jingchen and Wuzhen was already self-evident.
Hence, Mo Lin decisively judged Jingyue as having come for vengeance.
“If I’m not mistaken, the eight times I awakened before—though they seemed real—were still within your dream, weren’t they?”
“And what I now stand in… is a ‘dream within a dream.’”
Jingyue fell silent for a moment, then nodded:
“This is my soul technique, the ‘Double Dream.’”
Hearing this, Mo Lin carefully observed the dream that had already been seen through—the seven Earth Rank dream figures, the Ning River, and the Dragon-Binding Net tightly binding him.
“Mmm… a Double Dream, is it…”
Even though he still remained ensnared within Jingyue’s Dragon-Binding Net, Mo Lin did not panic. Instead, he clicked his tongue in faint admiration:
“Not bad, not bad. This construction is truly remarkable—superior even to Jingchen and Wuzhen’s illusions.”
Mo Lin’s praise was not unfounded.
Back during the great battle of Jingchen, Wuzhen, and the Mountain Lord, the two had once laid two layers of illusion upon the Mountain Lord—
One cast by Wuzhen, one by Jingchen.
Although Wuzhen was merely of Profound Rank, and his illusion arts weak, with Jingchen’s aid the dual illusions still managed to leave the Earth Rank Mountain Lord in considerable disarray.
Of course, part of the credit also belonged to the Earth Rank treasure, the Golden Circlet.
But soon enough, Wuzhen was injured by the Mountain Lord and forced from the battlefield—though Mo Lin’s underhanded tricks from the shadows had contributed as well.
Compared to that, however, Jingyue’s art was of a far higher caliber.
Back then, the Mountain Lord had swiftly realized the Golden Circlet was attempting a sneak attack. Yet Mo Lin, within Jingyue’s dreamscape, had been slain eight times without perceiving it.
Well—he had faint suspicions. But in the earlier stages, Jingyue’s soul power had been abundant, forcibly correcting Mo Lin’s subconscious awareness.
Moreover, the Mountain Lord’s wounds had been inflicted knowingly under irresistible force. Mo Lin, by contrast, had been killed eight times without ever realizing it.
If not for noticing a flaw the ninth time, he might very well have perished within the dream unawares.
So although Mo Lin outwardly appeared calm, beneath the surface he was nearly drenched in cold sweat.
After all—who could face nearly being euthanized in their sleep and remain entirely unshaken?
Faced with Mo Lin’s lofty praise, Jingyue frowned slightly:
“My ‘Double Dream’ is soul technique, not illusion. How could the petty tricks of Jingchen and his disciple be compared to this monk’s art?”
After his brief rebuttal, Jingyue could not resist asking at last:
“Anaconda Demon, how did you see through this monk’s carefully woven dream?”
“You must understand, the ‘Double Dream’ does not judge by power, but only by the strength of one’s soul.”
“If the soul is weak, then even the mightiest Earth Rank expert may not escape death within it.”
“Even with my repeated casting, somewhat taxing as it is, you should not have pierced it so easily.”
“How did you do it?”
From within the Dragon-Binding Net, Mo Lin flicked his vast serpent body—if he had been human, it might have resembled a shrug:
“Perhaps my soul strength is far beyond yours.”
With those words, it was clear he had no intention of explaining further.
Jingyue’s expression immediately soured, as though he had just eaten something bitter.