Chapter Eight: Shame That Reached My Grandmother’s House

Boarding the bus, Chang Yu began his journey home.

During this time, he kept turning over the same question in his mind: how could he make himself dream when he slept that night?

Since Chang Yu had no way to find Master Hao Er in the mortal world, why should he insist on achieving his goal in a field where he had no talent?

The last time Chang Yu saw Master Hao Er was in a dream. So perhaps all he needed to do was dream again tonight, and he might see the master once more.

"But the problem is, how can I ensure I dream tonight?" His brows furrowed deeply, searching for an answer but finding none.

Typically, dreams arrive unbidden. The frequency and occurrence of dreams vary from person to person. Few can summon dreams at will. Some people go an entire year without dreaming, sleeping soundly until morning, their quality of rest impeccable. Others dream nearly every night for twenty days straight, each dream unique and never repeating.

For Chang Yu to guarantee a dream tonight was no easy feat.

"It would be best if I could find a way to control when I dream," he concluded immediately.

While pondering how to control such a mysterious thing as the timing of dreams, the passenger in the seat ahead of him on the bus happened to answer his question.

The man in front was an old fellow in his sixties, who now held up his sturdy phone and shouted loudly, "Old Li! Lately, my sleep hasn't been good. I keep having nightmares!"

Perhaps age had dulled his ears, so he kept his phone on speaker, and Chang Yu, sitting right behind, overheard every word.

"Frequent nightmares? Perhaps you've been under too much stress lately," Old Li replied from the other end. "Try to relax before bed, ease your nerves, avoid excessive psychological pressure."

"Get out more, take a walk, clear your mind—troubles and worries will naturally fade away."

Old Li’s brief advice was like a ray of light, illuminating the gloom in Chang Yu’s heart.

Although Chang Yu had never received much formal education, he understood a simple truth: people dream because their sleep quality is poor.

Those who sleep well are rarely troubled by dreams, often sleeping soundly through the night. If someone is stressed or emotionally disturbed during the day, their sleep suffers. And with poor sleep comes dreams.

That’s why those with high-pressure jobs often suffer from insomnia and frequent dreams.

With that, Chang Yu used a bit of reverse thinking and concluded that if he wanted to dream after falling asleep, he needed to stimulate his mind.

Clapping his hands, he exclaimed excitedly, "That’s it! If I can lower my sleep quality, I’ll definitely dream!"

No sooner had he spoken than he noticed the atmosphere around him turn odd, for the passengers on the bus were looking at him with pitying, bemused expressions.

His outburst had been so loud that everyone on the bus had heard him.

"Mama, Mama," a little girl with cute pigtails tugged her mother’s sleeve, her childish voice breaking the awkward silence.

"This uncle is so strange!"

"Everyone else is trying to improve their sleep so they don’t have those messy dreams—why is he the only one hoping to dream?"

The girl’s mother scooped her up, speaking solemnly, "Lili, remember, don’t talk to strange uncles like him."

"Some people, it's because they can't get what they want in real life, so they hope to find it in their dreams!"

"Such people tend to be daydreamers, always living in their own world. Don’t grow up to be like that strange uncle."

Laughter erupted throughout the bus; her words had amused the other passengers.

"Ha ha, that’s exactly right!" One elderly woman laughed heartily, her mouth wide open.

"Right on!" Another man, clearly a stutterer, spoke with slurred words.

Everyone cast mocking glances at Chang Yu, curious to see how this young man, whose mind seemed to drift endlessly, would react.

But Chang Yu ignored their ridicule.

He had entered a contemplative state, his mind wholly occupied with ways to lower his sleep quality.

While others tried to treat themselves kindly, he sought ways to sabotage himself.

To reach such a state was truly unique to Chang Yu.

Once the bus reached his stop, he rushed home.

Closing the door behind him, he pulled out his phone and typed into a search engine: "How to stimulate your mind."

Soon, the results appeared: "Watch more horror movies."

The reasoning was clear and simple. If Chang Yu watched enough horror films before bed, his nerves would be on edge, his mind tense and alert.

Put plainly, after watching enough horror movies, nightmares were inevitable.

Not only was this scientifically sound, but Chang Yu had firsthand experience.

It was a little embarrassing, but he had always been timid.

When he lived in the orphanage, nothing scared him more than horror films.

Every time he watched one with the other kids, he was guaranteed to have nightmares that night.

If not for desperation this time, Chang Yu would never have considered such a dreadful solution.

Without hesitation, he found a famous horror movie and pressed play.

As the haunting background music began, he trembled, his scalp tingling with fear.

But he forced himself to keep watching, eyes wide, fixed on the screen.

When the ghost appeared in a particularly chilling fashion, his arm jerked violently, nearly sending his phone flying.

A miserable scream escaped his lips, sounding like a pig being slaughtered.

His shrieks were so piercing, echoing through the room, wave after wave, never ceasing.

"Hey downstairs! Did you discover a new continent or what? You think you’re Magellan or Columbus? What are you howling about in the middle of the night?"

Only when the upstairs neighbor shouted did Chang Yu hurriedly cover his mouth, afraid his cries would disturb the whole building.

But for some reason, his hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably.

Despite his terror, Chang Yu forced himself to keep watching.

Whenever a frightening scene appeared, his face turned pale.

In the end, he hid under his covers, burying his head, too scared to come out.

Once the movie was finally over, he lay exhausted in bed, his mouth dry, drenched in cold sweat, unwilling to move.

This world was too dangerous. A gentle boy like him had to learn to protect himself.

At that moment, he felt only the comfort and safety offered by his blanket in this icy world.

A pungent, sour smell spread beneath the covers, and the bedding grew damp.

Though there was no electric blanket, the bed felt warm, as if soaked in hot water.

"What’s going on?"

He reached out and felt the warmth and wetness, his heart sinking.

Lifting the blanket, he realized, mortified, that he had wet himself during the movie’s climax.

He had felt a chill run up his spine, then shuddered, and now found himself in this state.

"Master! Master!" Chang Yu murmured weakly, his eyes glazed with confusion, his face still marked by terror and despair.

"You’ll never know what your disciple has endured just to see you again!"

"If you care at all, please, appear in my dreams tonight!"