Outside the bamboo house, the night had deepened. Sparse stars and a faint moon cast down a few delicate beams of light, subtly tinting the greenish-purple bamboo walls. Light and shadow blended together just perfectly. By the bamboo fence in the courtyard, several osmanthus trees were in full bloom, their fragrance drifting in the air, enticing people to linger.

  The courtyard had no tables or chairs. Jiu Jue leaned against one of the osmanthus trees, sitting directly on a mat of woven reeds. Scattered petals from the osmanthus blossoms dotted the mat like stars. A pot of untouched wine sat before him. He half-closed his eyes, gazing into the distance, though the distance held only a hazy blur of light and shadow.

  "Master, is something on your mind?" Beside the Osmanthus tree, Lan Ting′s small figure emerged from the void. Though his lips didn′t move, his clear, youthful voice rang out as if it were part of the air itself.

  "I′ve told you for centuries; don′t call me ‘Master,’" Jiu Jue replied, not moving an inch, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. "With such poor memory, it′s no wonder your cultivation hasn′t improved a bit after all this time. When I first met you, you were a child. Now, you′re still a child."

  Lan Ting curled his lips disdainfully and said, "High or low cultivation doesn′t make much difference to me. But you—Mid-Autumn is near, your wish is within reach—what could you possibly be unhappy about?"

  "There′s always a sense that something isn′t quite right, though I can′t say what," Jiu Jue replied, tilting his head back to breathe in the fragrant air. Smiling faintly, he added, "I really am a rather useless celestial."

  "You′ve saved so many people, including me! How can you say you′re useless?" Lanting retorted, clearly Lan Ting.

  Jiu Jue chuckled softly, then opened his eyes, deliberately changing the subject. "If your cultivation were higher, then should the day come when I′m no longer here, at least you′d be able to protect yourself."

  Lan Ting lowered his head, fiddling with his fingers, and said nothing.

  "That monk, San Jie, has been my enemy since ancient times. Even when we were both in the Celestial Realm, there was already bad blood between us. After his banishment to the mortal world, he has opposed me in every lifetime. This time, after Su Qiuchi disrupted his pns, he will certainly not let it go." Jiu Jue flicked Lan Ting′s forehead. "You′d better stay sharp; that monk could cause trouble at any moment."

  "He′s no match for you," Lanting said after pondering for a long while.

  "The true opponent is not San Jie," Jiu Jue sighed. "It′s Empress Wu."

  "Just a mere woman," Lan Ting scoffed.

  "Though a woman by birth, she cares not for cosmetics but for dominion over the world. She is more difficult to deal with than ten San Jie monks combined." Jiu Jue took up the wine jug, tilted his head back, and took a small sip. Then, patting Lan Ting on the head, he said, "But don′t worry, I will protect you for as long as I can. Alright, off to bed. Tomorrow′s troubles can wait for tomorrow."

  "I'll sleep right here," Lan Ting decred, plopping himself onto the reed mat. Snuggling up close to Jiu Jue, he y down, resembling a cat that couldn′t leave its master′s side. "This way, I feel safer." He then gazed longingly at the wine jug in Jiu Jue′s hand and added, "Master, can I have a sip? Just a little... It smells so good!"

  Jiu Jue chuckled, flipped his hand to conjure a cup, poured a shallow yer of wine, and handed it to him. "Just this once."

  The fine wine went down smoothly, and before long, Lan Ting began to snore softly. With every snore, his body grew smaller and smaller until, finally, he transformed into an unfurled scroll. At its head were four rge characters: "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion" (Lanting Xu). But that wasn′t the end—at the scroll′s center, a glowing orb slowly rose, pulsing faintly like a breath. From within the orb emerged a book. As the radiant glow faded, an aged, yellowed cover was revealed, bearing two characters: "Awakened Dreams" (Xing Meng).

  A cool breeze stirred, flipping the book open. Yet beneath the cover, the pages were eerily empty—only a single page remained. Seeing this, Jiu Jue set down the half-drunk jug of wine, removed his outer robe, and draped it over the book. Shaking his head, he murmured, "I've never met a more hopeless little Yaokai. Just a few sips of wine, and you revert to your true form."

  Yes, Lan Ting is a book. The monk San Jie wants this book. Empress Wu wants this book. And for countless centuries, people who coveted this book have been as numerous as fish crossing a river.

  The "Awakened Dreams of Three Lives" book—able to glimpse ten thousand years of fate.

  Lan Ting, to be precise, is a yaokai that has always existed in the form of a book. In the past, half of its life was spent helping those who sought its aid to view their so-called "Wheel of Fate," the mechanism of destiny. The other half was spent fleeing from one malicious individual after another.

  According to folklore, burning the Awakened Dreams of Three Lives book to ashes, dissolving it in water, and drinking it would transform the drinker into an unparalleled seer, able to foresee the future and control destiny. However, the truth is, even if someone consumed it, the ability to foresee fate would not transfer to them. This irresponsible false rumor brought endless suffering to this poor Yaokai.

  Three hundred years ago, Jiu Jue rescued Lan Ting, the bumbling book yaokai, from being hunted by the ferocious Red Bear Elder atop Cloud Peak Mountain. He learned that this naive creature was always caught up in malicious pursuits.

  During the Eastern Jin dynasty, a Taoist priest relentlessly chased Lan Ting, intending to burn it and use its ashes to concoct an elixir. While fleeing for its life, Lan Ting spotted a drunken old schor in the wilderness, fervently wielding his brush as he wrote. Seizing the chance, it hid its true form within the scroll the schor was writing.