My Notoriety Spreads Throughout the World

Chapter 801: Chapter 710: A Dream of Liuli (Part 1)

Dreams of nothingness, reflections of the past overlapping endlessly—a girl’s footprints like a perfect mirror, floating and sinking in the wanderer’s dreamscape.

On the day of departure, the girl sits quietly before the dressing table, light makeup adorning her peach-like cheeks, gingerly pressing a touch of crimson to her lips. As her eyes drift, someone enters the room.

"Swordsmith."

The girl turns slightly, her hands with wide sleeves resting quietly on her knees.

"The day of departure has arrived."

In the dream, the ’Swordsmith’ is ambiguous in her appearance; she doesn’t appear tall, but the fitted craftsman’s attire elongates her figure. She holds her arms, with golden long hair cascading down her waist.

"You must leave now; let’s part ways here," said the Swordsmith.

"But what about you, Swordsmith?" the girl softly asked.

"For a wanderer, there is no home; now, past or present, none matters to me."

"Your future..." The girl hesitates to speak.

"I am cursed and won’t live long."

"Its sanguine aura has eroded my body."

Upon hearing this, the girl is momentarily lost, her lips lightly pressed together before easing.

"Death is the destined repose of life; from the moment of birth, life is bound for it. No life, however mighty, is exempt, for eternity is merely relative," said the Swordsmith.

"A life akin to a mayfly, creating value in its transitory, dew-like moments—that is the purpose of my existence."

"But people won’t remember you," the girl spoke with sadness, eager to say something.

"You will be forgotten by the world."

"People will remember a courageous, virtuous maiden wielding a sword toward the sky; that is enough," said the Swordsmith.

"You can exorcise evils, bringing harmony and serenity to future generations; that, too, is my vision."

The Swordsmith sighed lightly, shaking her head, saying.

"Death inevitably brings emptiness; being remembered won’t grant me an otherworldly cicada, nor eternal life."

"History is weighty; it’s a book that only flips forward. At its end, even a speck of dust is more noticeable than the hero etched on its front page."

Looking at each other without words, the silence lingered long before the girl finally moved. Without turning back, she departed.

"Thank you for caring for me these days."

"You’re right; no one can evade their fate. Thank you for repairing this broken sword."

"I will fulfill my mission."

Her final words hovered over the dreamscape until the cheers from below awakened the sleeping girl.

She awoke at her dressing table, reflected in the embossing copper mirror.

Her red hair drapes softly over the gauzy veil; in the mirror, she wears the same makeup as in the dream, yet her eyes lack some spirit, shrouded in shadow.

"Who am...I?" the girl asked aloud.

"Liuli Yin, Liuli Yin!"

A voice called out beside her, and she looked towards the door. A woman flamboyantly dressed was standing with her hands on her hips, a touch of annoyance in her brows.

"How can you sleep here? Everyone’s been looking for you for ages."

Vague memories surged into Liuli Yin’s mind; she remembered that this was her home for a long time, she was the Courtesan of Flower Moon Pavilion; moreover, she was renowned globally. Tonight, people from around the world gather at the Red Weaving Workshop to witness her dance.

"Sorry, I... dreamed a dream."

"Oh, my dear, let’s spare those words; quickly tidy up. The guests will soon arrive, filling the seats below. We can’t wander the second floor then."

"Right, right." Liuli Yin hurriedly stood up.

Then, remembering something, she quickly turned back, ran to the table, and picked up the brocade bag; a bit of jade pendant peeked out from its mouth, resembling tail-to-tail fish.

Afflicted with a strange illness, her memory recurrently loses parts over time; the scenes in the dream, those earlier memories—all lost.

Though unsure who gifted her the jade pendant, she faintly sensed that person was important to her.

"Swordsmith..."

Liuli Yin murmured the name, grasped the jade pendant, and ran swiftly towards the door, down the corridor. By then, guests gathered below in the Flower Moon Pavilion, all donned in ghostly attire, as did the attendant dancers.

Suddenly, Liuli Yin halted, catching sight beyond vermilion railings of a golden silhouette; seated before the stage, in an incongruous black and white attire, the fair skin beneath the mask of a demon stood out strikingly.

"Swordsmith." Liuli Yin exclaimed.

...

"Guest, your tea~"

A cup of brownish-red tea was placed before Xu Xiaoyou, watching the cyan-clad figure departing with the tray, she sighed with feeling.

It’s unimaginable, except for her and a few lurking Forgetters, everyone here was a creature disguised from a myriad faces of the Insect Race—the innkeeper, dancers, shop assistants, guests from ’every corner of the world’.

She started to wonder, what kind of entity could create a dreamscape of such scale.

The dreamscape’s range enveloped the entire Red Weaving Workshop; consider the city had nearly two million residents at its peak a century ago. Even she, to achieve this, would need several artistic-level skill cards of "Land of Dreaming," supported by a continuous flow of spiritual power.

Yet, given the current stability of this dreamscape, it likely has persisted for over three months.

What magnitude of spiritual power could sustain such a vast dreamscape for over three months?

From afar came the thud of artillery, presumably Forgetters and Life Daylight had engaged in open combat; partial warfare erupted.

Visible to the naked eye, the faces of all guests within the building twisted in an instant, revealing malformed antennae, mandibles and other insect features, before a wave of pressure restored everything as if nothing had happened.

The distant artillery did not disturb the tranquility here; people continued heedlessly in their own pursuits.

"A new face here, I see~"

A girl sat before her, masked with a white fox and sporting twin black pigtails.

"Have I met you here before?"

"I’ve never seen you elsewhere either," Xu Xiaoyou smiled.

Even through the mask, Xu Xiaoyou sensed the girl’s stiffened expression.

"Ah, guest you’re sharp-tongued, perhaps here for the Courtesan?"

"Does she harbor any hidden secrets?" Xu Xiaoyou asked.

"Would you like to know?" The girl suddenly spoke mysteriously.

"Tell me."

Xu Xiaoyou tossed two cicada cards on the table.

The girl’s eyes gleamed, smiled broadly, swiftly snatching the cicada cards into her pocket.

"True, people are often captivated by the Courtesan’s enchanting dance and alluring beauty—it’s said a smile can birth many charms—but they’ve overlooked the essence beneath the facade."

"I’ve witnessed her essence." As she spoke, the girl’s face showed fear, reminiscing something.

"That night, I sneaked into her chamber," the girl noted Xu Xiaoyou’s odd gaze, instantly putting hands on hips, "don’t look at me that way."

"I heard she had a valuable jade pendant, not longing for her charms—I don’t have that kind of fetish."

"Ahem."

"In the dead of night, I saw it myself," the girl continued, lowering her voice, "she sat before the dressing table, brushing from the top down, slowly... "

"Then she started peeling her skin with comb strokes, firmly gripping the skin with both hands, tearing, and finally, starting with the head, removed the entire skin from her body."

"Beneath that skin, I distinctly saw a blue-faced, tusked, ferocious and hideous spider spirit!"