Chapter 4: Dreams of the Past

Chang Yu lay alone on his battered spring bed, staring blankly at the crescent moon hanging high outside the window.

This was a room stripped bare of all but the essentials. The damp, decaying smell lingered constantly at his nostrils, refusing to dissipate. The floor was nothing but raw cement, without even a proper tile or plank; stepping on it raised a fine dust. The walls on either side had not been repainted for many years, mottled with stains that were almost shocking to behold. Because of the building’s age, the soundproofing was abysmal—lying there, Chang Yu could hear the snores of his neighbor through the thin walls.

All in all, the living conditions here were even worse than those of a roadside inn that charged thirty yuan a night.

“Well, fantasies and reality always have a gap,” Chang Yu murmured softly.

This was his place in H City, the foothold he’d managed to secure for himself in this sprawling metropolis. His company was located in the bustling, densely populated city center, where rent was astronomical. To cut costs, Chang Yu had no choice but to live in a district far from his workplace. Every morning, he spent more than an hour on the bus commuting to work—hence his daily race against time. The morning rush hour in H City was notorious for traffic jams; a moment’s carelessness meant being late.

He had thought of renting a place closer to the office, but his meager monthly salary couldn’t even cover the rent there, let alone food and other necessities.

“Damn this life!” Remembering all the grievances he had endured over the past two years, Chang Yu cursed bitterly.

He shook his head, a bitter smile crossing his lips. “It’s funny, really. I used to be a boy who loved to dream. Even though I grew up in an orphanage, I always thought I was special.”

“I believed I was the kind destined for greatness from the day I was born, fated to accomplish something remarkable.”

“But after two years of struggling in the real world, I’ve slowly realized I’m just like most people.”

“Living a life as ordinary as can be, I’m as ordinary as they come. Compared to others, there’s nothing remarkable about me.”

In fact, after learning the truth about Fatty Wang’s background, Chang Yu suddenly felt a wave of disappointment. He realized he and Fatty Wang were never the same type of people. To be precise, from the moment they were born, they belonged to different classes.

It was the feeling of a playmate who’d always been close suddenly no longer inviting you to join in the game.

Until today, Chang Yu had thought Fatty Wang was just like him—one of society’s lowest rungs. They both earned the same paltry two-thousand yuan salary, worked the same grueling job as gatekeepers, sat together in the same booth chatting away, drank water from the same mugs when thirsty—there seemed to be no difference at all.

This gave Chang Yu a strange sense of kinship with Fatty Wang—a feeling of being brothers in hardship.

But he never expected that Fatty Wang was actually nothing like him.

He had thought they were both little mudfish rolling in the same muddy pond, but it turned out Fatty Wang was a hidden dragon in the mortal world.

To be honest, the sense of disparity hit Chang Yu hard. It felt as if the whole world had betrayed him—a cold loneliness seeped from his heart to his bones.

At that moment, he remembered a saying he’d heard not long ago:

When life seems unsatisfactory, think more about your strengths. Perhaps you’ll discover the secret to success within them.

“What strengths do I have?” Chang Yu pondered for a long time but could not find a single remarkable trait in himself.

If he had to name one, it was that he was especially good at dreaming.

As long as he had a good night’s sleep, he could have anything in his dreams. Luxury cars and beautiful women, villas by the river, entourages at his beck and call—even seeking immortality was possible!

But dreams are only dreams—they can’t fill your stomach.

“If only the things in my dreams could come true,” Chang Yu sighed sincerely. “Then I wouldn’t have to do anything—just lie back and count money like Fatty Wang.”

Breathing in the musty air, listening to the neighbor’s snores, Chang Yu’s own breath gradually grew steady until he drifted into sleep.

In his dream, he returned to the story of his last day at the orphanage two years ago.

...

That day, Chang Yu rose early. While the other children in the orphanage were still sound asleep, he quietly slipped out of the room alone. Taking advantage of the faint dawn, he tiptoed to the backyard and knelt under the only large willow tree, heedless of the dirt that clung to his trousers, and dug up the package he had hidden there.

The package was small, just a thick plastic bag like any other. Inside were only three simple items: a few crumpled ten-yuan notes, a lighter, and half a pack of cigarettes.

The bills were his pitifully accumulated savings, all the pocket money he’d managed to scrape together. The cigarettes he had pilfered from the orphanage director—cheap Lingzhi cigarettes.

Casting a guilty glance around to make sure no one was watching, he deftly took three cigarettes from the pack, lit them one by one with the lighter, and held them in his hands, arms raised above his head, kneeling respectfully before the willow tree.

“I respectfully inform the Jade Emperor, the Queen Mother of the West, the Three Pure Ones, the Ten Kings of Hell, and all the immortals of the upper realm.”

With a face full of devotion, he bowed low, pressing his forehead to the ground. Raising the three cigarettes high, he kowtowed three times to the ancient willow, then stuck the smoldering cigarettes into the earth.

“This humble immortal is the orphaned child of the immortals in the upper realm, forced by circumstance to suffer countless tribulations in the mortal world.”

“Though my body has dwelled in this dusty realm all these years, my heart has always yearned for the power of the immortals above to move mountains and seas.”

“Now that I’ve reached eighteen, I beseech the immortals to take pity on me and send celestial soldiers to bring me back to the celestial realm to cultivate!”

Having completed these rituals, Chang Yu remained kneeling, pondering for a while. Only then did he realize something crucial was missing.

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

He turned toward the three cigarettes and performed three resounding, decisive kowtows, the sound echoing through the small yard. He knocked his forehead so hard it turned purple, and the strange “bang, bang, bang” resounded in the quiet morning.

Afterward, he stood up, satisfied, and brushed the dirt and dust from his clothes.

He was just about to sneak back to his room and lie quietly in bed to await the arrival of celestial soldiers when a commanding cough sounded behind him.

Hearing that cough, Chang Yu froze in shock. A chill shot from his tailbone to the crown of his head, as if struck by lightning.

With disbelief and wild hope in his eyes, he turned around, his face pale but tinged with excitement.

“Heavenly General! Is it you, Heavenly General!” he shouted.

Too excited to see clearly who was before him, he grabbed the person’s hand in a fervent grip.

“Heavenly General! I knew you’d come for me!” Before the person could speak, Chang Yu rattled on breathlessly.

“Heaven does have eyes! You’ve finally discovered the lost immortal in the mortal world!”

“You don’t know how much I’ve suffered these eighteen years!”

“Tell me, how is my talent? Am I worthy to learn the highest immortal arts with the immortals?”

Hearing Chang Yu’s torrent of questions, the person smiled awkwardly, trying to withdraw his hand, but Chang Yu held on so tightly that it was impossible.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but was quickly silenced by Chang Yu’s feverish enthusiasm.

“Never mind, you don’t have to answer,” Chang Yu said. “Knowing too much might not be good for me anyway. Enough talk, let’s leave this wretched place at once!”

“Uh… Xiao Yu, calm down a bit,” the man finally managed to speak. “I’m not the ‘Heavenly General’ you’re talking about—I’m your Director Grandpa! Take a closer look?”

“Director Grandpa?”

Hearing this, Chang Yu finally took advantage of the faint light to see the man’s face clearly.

The old man was well past seventy, his sparse white hair hidden under a battered cap. His blue jacket had faded with countless washes, and his oversized trousers looked cheap and worn—altogether a figure of poverty.

He was the director of the orphanage, a gentle-faced, mild-tempered old man.

“So it’s you. I got my hopes up for nothing.”

“I thought you were a celestial soldier come to take me back to the immortal realm to practice immortal arts.”

Once he recognized the man, disappointment flooded Chang Yu’s eyes, his excitement fading.

The old man patted Chang Yu’s head affectionately and, with guilt and sorrow in his voice, spoke:

“Xiao Yu, Grandpa has bad news for you today.”

“You’ve turned eighteen—you’re a big boy now. It’s time for you to leave this orphanage, learn to draw sharp eyeliner, trim neat brows, spritz on some pleasant cologne, and, in the bloom of youth, compete with the girls for the boys…”

“Director Grandpa, do you mean you want me to leave the orphanage?” Chang Yu’s eyes glistened with tears.

Facing the news of his impending departure, an overwhelming reluctance filled his heart.

“Xiao Yu, it’s not that Grandpa wants this! You know, among all the children in this orphanage, you’re the one I’m most reluctant to part with,” the old man said, his eyes red with emotion.

“Though, as you know, every child who turns eighteen must leave the orphanage…”

“But you’re different! If there were any way, I’d keep you here with me.”

“Director Grandpa, I knew you’d be reluctant to let me go!” Chang Yu choked up, his face full of emotion.

“In the whole orphanage, I’m the apple of your eye, your precious one!”

The old man looked at Chang Yu with affection, then at the three cigarettes stuck under the willow tree, his heart tightening.

“Silly child, what nonsense are you saying?” The director’s gaze turned oddly serious. “To be honest, compared to the other children, I worry you might be a little… slow.”

“I’m afraid you’ll be bullied out there. That’s why I wanted to keep you by my side.”

“You’re a good kid in every way—except you keep talking about gods and immortals, which is a bit alarming.”

“Tell me, what normal person goes around claiming they’ll cultivate immortality?”

“You’ve just read too many fairy tales and gotten carried away!”

He sighed heavily, sorrow etched across his face. “If I could, I wouldn’t let you leave the orphanage.”

“But you know our financial situation. I’d love to keep you here, but I just can’t afford it.”

“A fledgling eagle must learn to fly. Once you leave, don’t look back—the road ahead is yours to walk!”

Chang Yu’s body trembled. Under the director’s encouraging gaze, his eyes gradually hardened with resolve. He nodded firmly.

“Don’t worry, Director Grandpa. No matter what I face out there, I’ll carry on!”