I stood quietly outside the house, waiting. No matter how Mrs. Chen pressed him, David Chen just sat in silence, saying nothing, opening the family wine jar and drinking by himself.
"The county officials came and said the bridge we built in our village broke the law because it wasn't approved by a county document. Now they want us to pay a tax of one hundred taels."
The cloth in Mrs. Chen's hand slipped to the floor. One hundred taels was an enormous sum—forget the village chief's family, even if everyone in the village saved every coin for a year, they'd never gather that much.
"This world truly is strange. It's just a bridge. Before, whenever our village needed to go to the county market, we had to cross the river, and people have drowned before. Now, just for building a bridge, we have to pay tax to those damned officials."
Mrs. Chen looked at David Chen.
"Wasn't it because of the disaster before, that so many places in the county were damaged and needed lots of labor? I planned to go help until the county magistrate was satisfied. I've done artisan work in the county before; many wealthy families liked my craftsmanship."
Mrs. Chen sighed, glanced back at her daughter lying on the bed, and sighed again.
Mrs. Chen didn't sleep the entire night. Early the next morning, David Chen held his daughter in his arms, his eyes full of tenderness.
"Dad, how long will you be gone?"
"Not for long. I'll be back soon."
I watched quietly as David Chen left. I wanted to follow, but when I reached the bridge, David Chen had already crossed. Ahead lay a vast darkness; I couldn't see anything, and David Chen vanished. As expected, the dream only goes this far.
Back at the Chen house, Samantha Chen was as cheerful as ever. David Chen had taken the blame for the whole village; everyone knew this and was grateful, often sending rice and flour to the Chen family. Life for Mrs. Chen and her daughter was just barely manageable.
I watched as the scenes around me spun rapidly. Samantha Chen grew up day by day, becoming more and more attractive. Many families in the village came to propose marriage, but Mrs. Chen always said her husband was away and she couldn't decide her daughter's future alone.
At this time, Samantha Chen often helped out at various homes in the village. She was just a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl, but was very strong, just like her father. Samantha loved handiwork; she often made little toys for the village children, who adored her.
When she picked up her tools and worked up a sweat, she was every bit as capable as any man.
"Samantha, stop doing men's work. You're a girl, you shouldn't..."
"I know, I know. I'm tired, Mom. I want to sleep."
One night, Mrs. Chen brought up the subject again, but Samantha always brushed it off with the same excuse. Whenever she washed her feet in the backyard, she would carefully clean the old tools her father had left behind, cherishing them.
David Chen had been gone for ten years. The village chief and others had tried to find news, but there was none—no sign of life or death.
Whenever David Chen was mentioned, mother and daughter would grow sorrowful; Mrs. Chen, especially, would sometimes shed tears.
One early morning, Chen Simin began packing her things and cut her hair short, looking just like a boy.
"What are you doing?"
Mrs. Chen's face turned pale, but Chen Simin just shook her head.
"Waiting like this won't solve anything. Mother, I'm going to find Father."
But Mrs. Chen stopped Chen Simin. The village elders and the chief spent days trying to persuade her, but she never gave up on the idea of searching for her father. Especially after cutting off her hair she'd grown for over a decade, many villagers voiced their disapproval.
Hair is a woman's life—Mrs. Chen often said this to Chen Simin. But now, Chen Simin was different. She busied herself with work usually done by men. The villagers could only accept it, since she did the work as well as her father, Chen Dagong.
One night, while her mother slept, Chen Simin left a letter behind and quietly took her belongings, sneaking out dressed entirely like a man, her build sturdy.
"Xiaomin, where are you going?"
When she reached the bridge, Chen Simin was startled and dropped her tools, scattering them everywhere. The village chief, hair white as snow, was waiting at the bridge.
"I saw you today and thought something was off. You really were planning to sneak away."
"Chief, I have to find my father."
The chief nodded without scolding Chen Simin, instead smiling kindly.
"Xiaomin, do you know why there's a difference between men and women in this world? It's because some things aren't for women to decide or bear. You may have managed small things here in the village, but one day you'll have to marry."
Chen Simin quietly caressed the bridge her father had built, bit by bit, with the help of the villagers. It had withstood countless floods and remained undamaged. This bridge had benefited the village for years—no more risking the river, even the children could go to town with adults. Yet, Chen Simin had never gone herself.
"Chief, I still have to go."
With just those few words, the chief stepped aside.
"Xiaomin, take this. It's what the whole village owes your father."
The chief handed Chen Simin some money. She gratefully accepted it. After bidding farewell, she left with her tools.
I quietly followed her. In her eyes, I saw a glow—a childhood longing. She dreamed of her father working under the burning sun, and so she chose to leave.
Suddenly, darkness swallowed everything. Chen Simin, walking ahead, had eyes shining with black light. I swallowed nervously and hurried to check on her. Everything behind her shattered like broken glass. I stared wide-eyed; amid the fragments of the village, I saw a flash of white light. Chen Simin turned, her eyes radiating black mist.
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"Wake up, Artisan. I'm Ethan Zhang, do you know me?"
I shook the Artisan urgently. This dream was about to consume us—I had to do something.
I spun around and floated upward. My strength hadn't recovered, but at least it was night. I returned to the crumbling village, searching everywhere, mind blank. Maybe this good dream was my only hope.
I focused my will, and a streak of violet light emerged from my body. In my hand appeared a giant purple balloon, its surface cracking and ready to burst. This was my only option.
With a buzz, the shattered scene froze. Then blobs of blackness surfaced, transforming into monsters, snarling and lunging at me.
Things looked grim. My baleful energy was weak, but the dream in my hand kept fracturing, white light shooting out.
With a boom, the dream exploded. White light engulfed everything, and the monsters vanished instantly in the glow.
"Father, why do you make these things?"
"Ah, Xiaomin, because if nobody does, the villagers will suffer. That's what it means to be an artisan—it's all in your hands. You'll understand one day."
"But Father, this work is exhausting and dirty, and there's hardly any money."
"Haha, true, there's not much money, but there's wine to drink—isn't that good? And when you're done, you feel grounded. Want to try working with me?"
A scene appeared before my eyes: young Chen Simin, with Chen Dagong's help, hammering away, then using saws and rulers. By day's end, she was too tired to move, but her face was full of smiles.
I stared wide-eyed, and everything vanished in an instant. Light spots drifted in the sky, each holding a memory of Chen Simin. A warm feeling filled my heart. I turned—Chen Simin stood behind me, smiling, hand raised.
"Artisan, wake up quickly."
I shouted, but suddenly darkness appeared behind me. Her figure was swallowed up bit by bit. I tried to pull her back, but couldn't—my own hand was caught in the darkness. A terrible feeling flooded my mind, and I let go.
"I'll find a way. I promise I'll find a way."
I stared around, quietly in the sunlit village. The darkness couldn't get close—the good dream was working. But I couldn't wake Chen Simin.
I still didn't know what to do. If I entered that darkness, I had no idea what might happen. I couldn't panic now.
Just as I was lost in thought, a streak of violet light appeared before my eyes. I stared, wide-eyed.
"Ouyang Meng."
"Stop yelling, Ethan Zhang. I did sense a massive force of nightmare, so I crossed countless dream realms to get here. I didn't expect to find you shouting. Haven't you sorted out your side yet?"
I hurried over. The violet light gradually formed into Ouyang Meng. I breathed a sigh of relief—no one in this world understands dreams better than him.
"You're really clueless. Do you know what I gave you? Besides the dream orb, wasn't there also a rope?"
I nodded quickly and looked around. Sure enough, there was a rope on the ground.
"Later, just pull up this rope. The good dream will be gathered in. My special dream is different from any dream you knew before—it can devour good dreams. If it does, this dream's power will grow stronger and stronger."
After briefly telling Ouyang Meng a few things, he pondered for a moment before smiling.
"Keep following, Ethan Zhang. Isn't persistence your specialty? Relentless as ever."