"A thousand drinks and still standing—ha ha, can't get drunk..."
The Drunkard sat in the middle of a crowd, his eyes bloodshot as he drank. The liquor flowed into him like water, and he was clearly out of his mind. The Wraithlord and I remained in the throng, waiting for the Drunkard to pass out, but I couldn't understand how he would guide us once he was drunk.
Looking at the bustling marketplace in the woods, people kept coming and going, making it seem lively. At last, the Drunkard stopped moving and collapsed onto the table, and the surrounding crowd gradually dispersed.
"What are they doing?"
Puzzled, I stared at the heap of wine jars scattered around. The Wraithlord laughed, walked over to the Drunkard, and hauled him up.
"Where exactly did you see that Rainbow Path?"
The Wraithlord had barely asked when the Drunkard burst out laughing, his bloodshot eyes dazed. He staggered and swayed, nearly collapsing, and the Wraithlord held him up. The Drunkard stretched out his left hand, his finger fumbling around.
The Wraithlord led me, following the direction the Drunkard pointed. But after a while, I realized we were just wandering in circles—there was no path. Still, thinking of the strange nature of inner worlds shaped by supernatural techniques, I dismissed my doubts.
By dusk, the people in the marketplace had all left, but the Drunkard kept leading us around.
"Still not had enough to drink?"
The Wraithlord asked, and the Drunkard nodded with a grin. Then the Wraithlord brought over more wine and poured it over the Drunkard, who had collapsed by a big tree. The Drunkard opened his mouth in excitement, not caring that wine was soaking him. He gulped it down like a fish breathing, swallowing mouthful after mouthful. I blinked, unable to imagine anyone like this in the real world.
"Ever since he failed his exams and his wife ran off with someone else, he's been like this—drinking all the way here. Then, he accidentally triggered a supernatural technique and entered this world, where he ended up drinking himself to death."
I swallowed hard, my eyes wide. Suddenly, the Drunkard sprang to his feet and took off running, shouting madly as he went. The Wraithlord and I hurried after him as he led us up the mountain.
The path ahead grew narrower, and the Drunkard ran even faster. He no longer seemed drunk—more like he'd seen something that thrilled him. He kept letting out sharp, excited laughs.
Suddenly, the Drunkard fell to the ground, unconscious, his finger pointing at a large boulder ahead. We approached, but the Wraithlord ignored him and walked straight toward the boulder.
"Hurry, come in."
I looked up to see the Wraithlord already halfway inside the boulder. I quickly followed, stepping into its surface. In a blink, the Wraithlord and I stood inside a temple atop the mountain. I heard chanting and saw a large incense burner in the temple square, smoke curling upward. But strangely, though the chanting was loud, there wasn't a single monk in sight.
"What’s going on? Didn’t you say the Drunkard knew the way?"
I asked, noticing the Wraithlord’s puzzled expression. He shook his head.
"I’ve never seen this place before. It looks like someone’s Inner World. We need to find that person. If there’s no one here, it’ll be easier."
I let out a sound of surprise, and then the Wraithlord and I began searching the fairly large temple. The chanting echoed everywhere, but there wasn’t a single person.
You could leave the temple and see villages and vast farmland in the distance, but I still didn’t see a single person.
Just as I was feeling bewildered, I heard a rumbling sound from inside the temple. I ran toward it, but as soon as I reached the main hall, the rumbling stopped. The Wraithlord was already standing at the doorway, a smile on his face.
"Did you find something?"
I asked, and the Wraithlord nodded. We stepped into the main hall, and I saw that the Buddha statues inside were crooked and misshapen, like clay dolls made by children—worse, even, than what a child might make. Yet everything else looked normal.
"Because of this supernatural technique, every Inner World created by someone’s subconscious has its own anomaly. It’s like that little girl’s Inner World you visited before."
I nodded. In May Shaw’s Inner World, there was only an empty town and a faceless town. This must be the anomaly here. Looking at the twisted Buddha statues made me uneasy.
For some reason, I was suddenly overcome by inexplicable irritation. The Wraithlord climbed onto the platform and shoved one of the Buddha statues off. With a loud crash, the statue hit the ground and shattered—if you could even call these things Buddha statues. Just then, I heard footsteps.
"Benefactor, what are you doing? Please come down."
Suddenly, I saw a young monk in a red robe and yellow cassock. At that moment, the chanting grew clearer, and I saw many monks standing inside the main hall, with devout worshippers outside burning incense. Even more startling, the Buddha statues had been restored—each one vivid and lifelike. The grotesque statues from before had vanished.
The Wraithlord climbed down from the platform and quickly apologized.
"Master, I heard a mouse squeaking, so I climbed up to check. I was afraid it might damage the beams of the main hall, so I went to investigate—and sure enough, I caught a mouse."
As he spoke, the Wraithlord waved his hand, and a mouse appeared, squeaking in his grip. The young abbot hurriedly made a Buddhist gesture and recited Amitabha.
"Benefactor, please spare the mouse. Heaven cherishes all life, I implore you..."
The Wraithlord bowed in return, then released the mouse outside the main hall. The abbot finally relaxed and sighed.
"A mouse is a living creature, and every living being has its own habits. Gnawing on wood is simply a mouse’s nature. If this is the karma of that pillar, then..."
Watching the sentimental abbot, I wasn't interested in his words. Oddly, no one here seemed to see me, but among the young monks, I spotted a handsome boy who looked familiar.
"That’s the woman who played the pipa and sang at the tavern before."
I gasped in surprise. The Wraithlord was right. Just then, I noticed someone had fallen outside. Looking over, I saw the Drunkard, barely able to stand, staggering near the incense burner. Several people dragged him away.
I had no idea what was happening, but the Wraithlord kept looking around.
"Don’t you find it strange, Rachel Lan?"
I looked at the Wraithlord in confusion. Except for the familiar faces I'd seen in previous worlds, nothing here seemed odd to me. The Wraithlord pointed at the abbot.
"How old do you think this young abbot is?"
"At most, just over twenty!"
But then I realized something was off. How could a monk barely over twenty be the abbot of such a large temple? That’s the anomaly of this world.
"So what exactly are we looking for?"
I asked, and the Wraithlord replied.
"We need to find the connection between the abbot and the Drunkard. Only then can we return to the Drunkard’s world and have him guide us again."
I swallowed and glanced at the Drunkard, who had been dragged aside and now sat on the ground, laughing foolishly. Then I looked at the abbot, unable to imagine what they could possibly have in common.
One looked cultured and refined, the other rough and always drunk.
"If you only look at appearances, you’ll never see the truth. Be patient. In this world, you must carefully observe everything about everyone."
It all sounded dull to me, so I stepped aside, deciding to let the Wraithlord take his time searching.
"What are you doing?"
The Wraithlord asked. I smiled helplessly and shook my head.
"It’s too complicated and too dull. I don’t like this sort of thing. You’re smart—take your time and observe."
"Rachel Lan, if you want to..."
I interrupted the Wraithlord, walked away, and waved at him.
"Don’t give me those lectures. I’m just a woman, and staring at people all the time is exhausting. I won’t do it—you take your time."
I left the temple, unwilling to stay in a place filled with chanting, and wandered into the fields, walking along a small path, just looking around.
Thinking back, I once tailed a man with Vivian Ouyang who used ghosts to do evil. We were sure it was him, but never saw how he controlled the ghosts. We followed him for weeks before finally finding a clue. It was exhausting, and now, remembering it, I don’t want to watch people like that anymore. I just want to take it easy and find the illusion at my own pace.
By now, many worshippers were leaving the temple. In the bustling crowd, I was surprised to spot May Shaw’s shadow. She was dressed as a married woman, carrying a child, and walking with a strong man, chatting and laughing. I hurried to follow them.
Although I knew this wasn’t May Shaw’s consciousness, it was still part of her. Everything experienced in other people’s Inner Worlds should someday return to her main consciousness.