In the real world, on the night of October 22nd, I entered the dream world again, and at about half-past eleven in the morning I traveled from Hatig to Usa, the two towns on the same side of the River Skye. However, I didn't bother Grand Elder Evans again—it was clear that my interpretation of the Seven Chapters of the Xuanjun Secret Sutra had not yet progressed.

I had considered whether I should join a convoy of vendors in order to disguise my identity as a Taoist priest and my magical skills, but then I thought that it was not an ordinary thing for a child of my age to hang out to those vendors, especially that I had a face completely different from theirs, and I did not think that I could fool the well-informed and shrewd businessmen when it came to making up lies about the death of both parents.

So, after a brief lunch and a short rest, I braved the wind and made a quick drive along a specially selected backcountry trail slightly away from the river. The winding route is inefficient, but the scenery along the way is quite good: the valley is bumpy and winding, the green dripping from the valley floor to the mountainside, and the mist in the valley is like a light silk, wrapped around the waist of the peaks.

It's been an amazing experience for me to be able to ride the wind in this way. At dusk, I easily climbed the not very steep hillside, returned to the plain by the river, and then ran quickly to the place where the smoke had risen. When it was almost completely dark, I came to a quaint and strange fishing town, and settled in a hostel that was some years old.

On October 24th, after a day off, I woke up in the hotel in Dream World. Strangely, it was around four or five o'clock in the afternoon—I couldn't help but sigh at the strange connection between the waking world and the dreamscape. Outside, I looked far away and saw a convoy of vendors coming down the flat road by the river, the bells of the carriage squeaking and rolling with the wheels.

A short time later, the convoy arrived at the ancient town, and several merchants and guards left the group and entered another hotel at the entrance of the town, as if intending to stay there. After a few curious glances at the gray-eyed, wide-cheeked men, I refocused my attention on the carriages. Their goods consisted mainly of textile wool from Usa, and cabbage harvested from the busy farms.

I wasn't in a hurry to get there, so I stayed here for another night. The next morning, I set out again on my journey to Dilas Lynn. As the river widened, the hills on the east bank were gradually replaced by plains, so I couldn't get into the mountains as I had done the day before. However, the scenery of the fields along the way is very beautiful, and it is not inferior to what you saw yesterday: green hedges and groves, like the pointed farmhouses in realistic pastoral paintings, and the octagonal windmill mill.

In the evening, as the night fell, a few stars appeared in the sky, followed by more and more twinkling stars. I wanted to find a settlement of the size of a village or town, but I couldn't see it for a while, so I had to find a nearby mill to stay in. At this time, the night sky was already full of stars, and everything in this lovely land quietly blended into the warm night, and from time to time there was a moment of the boatman's song on the calm river.

I knocked on the door of the mill three times, and several dogs barked in unison.

"Who?"

A hoarse, sleepy voice came to my ears from inside the door.

"Passing by, I want to spend the night. ”

Perhaps my childish voice exceeded the other party's expectations, and there was no response for a long time. I had to make another noise - and the dogs barked again.

"I'll pay, I'm a dream traveler. ”

"I'm going to talk to the boss...... Shhhhh

It didn't take long for a "squeak" to come from the side - it was another small door that opened. The boss was a tall and strong man, thirty or forty years old, with a round belly, and the hired man who had spoken earlier was shorter, and his demeanor was markedly different from the former. They were stunned for a moment when they saw my face.

"Come in, little boy......"

I could see that his expression was a little unhappy, followed by a muttered murmur. I was in a vacant room, and the bed was of course a coarse peasant cloth, but it was better than sleeping on hay and straw. After a while, the hostess brought some milk, eggs and bread. She's probably in her thirties, and her face is thin, but she still has the charm of her youth, and in terms of skeletal outline, she should have been like the village flower more than ten years ago.

After that, neither the boss, nor the hostess, nor the hired employee had any intention of talking to me. Perhaps they thought they should stay away from me, a visitor from the sober world, I thought to myself, and I believed that they had good intentions anyway. I hastily ate my belated dinner, then summoned the Spirit Sword Guards—just in case, and lay down in my uncomfortable bed.

The next morning, after breakfast and payment, I said goodbye to the boss and his wife and continued my dream journey. Two or three kilometers away there is a village that I would have come to if I had continued last night, but there are no hotels in this small village. It's a cloudy day, the river is rolling with deep blue waves, and the tide at night is a little slower than on a sunny day.

After a short half a day's walk, a hazy haze rose on the horizon ahead under a gloomy sky, and then the towering black tower of Dilas Lynn came into view. The city and the Black Tower, mostly made of basalt, look a bit like the famous Giant's Causeway from a distance - thanks to a game and mod called Civilization 5, I was a little impressed with this natural wonder.

For the sake of keeping a low profile, I didn't use the Wind Resistor to fly into the sky, so it wasn't until late evening that I could reach the periphery of Dilas Lynn. Compared to Usa, which also has a long history, the streets between the black towers are dark, uninteresting, and unattractive. I walked closer to the sea, and the countless docks were crowded with gloomy seafarers' bars, and the town was full of sailors from all over the world, of course, the dream world, and no doubt a significant number of them were not human.

Evans once told me that every once in a while, black three-deck schooners laden with rubies would dock at the pier in Dilas Lynn. No one knew where the ships came from, and no one had ever seen the oarsmen who rowed the ships with coordinated, accurate, and powerful movements—though he did not rule out the power of machinery rather than man, but at the same time indicated that the merchants of Uza were mostly reluctant to trade with the big black ships.

I was therefore curious to the southern pier, and by chance, a fleet of black galleons was quietly anchored in the calm waters. I have to say, Evans missed one thing that didn't remind me, and that was that these sailboats still had an unprecedented stench. When the south wind blows from the sea, it brings the smell of these sailboats to the harbor, and the smell of the south wind is so disgusting that it is impossible to describe in words.