Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Crybaby

After exchanging pleasantries with Wang Yan, the master and his two disciples walked back, each clutching a stick of candied haws. Naturally, Hong Lei, as the master, had generously paid the bill. Wu Que clearly observed his master extend two fingers, upon which a wisp of pale purple vapor flowed from his fingertips into the sphere of light on the stall’s facade. This vapor, he realized, must be the attribute points.

As they walked back, Wu Que munched on his candied haw and asked casually, "Master, are you very close with Wang Yan? His body is quite peculiar."

"Close? Yes, we’re certainly close," Hong Lei replied with a smile. "The last time we entered a dream together, he nearly got me killed."

"What?" Not only Wu Que, but even Zhang Deshuai was momentarily stunned by this revelation.

"He was quite normal when he first arrived in the Space, but ever since he chose the Witchcraft and Gu bloodline, he has become sinister and cruel, even repeatedly attacking other Dream Weavers within the dreams. If you ever enter a dream with him, you must be careful."

Wu Que chewed his treat, lost in thought. *Though we share a common goal, the relationships between Dream Weavers seem far less harmonious than they appear on the surface. As expected, wherever there are people, there is society.*

"But if he is so wicked, why is he still allowed to remain in the Dream-Entering Space? Won't anyone seek revenge?" Wu Que continued.

"Dream Weavers cannot be killed within the Dream-Entering Space. Even if they suffer grave injuries, they recover within a day."

"Cannot... be killed?" Despite having already grasped the wonders of the Space, Wu Que still found his master’s words difficult to accept. He had nearly died in his dreams several times, yet now he was told that Dream Weavers were effectively immortal within this realm. If the Space possessed such immense power, why didn't it simply put an end to these endless nightmares? The Space felt like a higher-dimensional being, treating human lives like plasticine to be molded and toyed with.

"Master, I don't quite understand. Could you explain in more detail?" Zhang Deshuai, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up.

Hong Lei seemed to enjoy the role of a teacher. With a smile, he asked, "Heh, you know that we are souls, right?"

"Yes."

"Actually, it's a simple principle of positive and negative poles; you could also explain it through Yin and Yang. Reality is positive, the dream world is negative, and the Dream-Entering Space is the boundary between the two. Life is Yang, death is Yin, and Dream Weavers are the boundary between Yin and Yang."

"Therefore, when a Dream Weaver—a boundary between Yin and Yang—enters the Dream-Entering Space—the boundary between positive and negative—a delicate balance is achieved, and naturally, they cannot be killed."

"I see."

"Then, Master, are there only the three of us in our team?" Wu Que asked curiously.

At this, Hong Lei’s expression grew awkward, and Zhang Deshuai’s face darkened further. "Ahem, since the requirement to establish a team is a minimum of three members, I grabbed a little kid to join when you weren't here yet."

"A little kid? There are children in this Dream-Entering Space?"

"Ahem, you'll see when we get there."

The three walked and chatted, soon arriving at the courtyard of the 97th Dream-Entering Team. Wu Que noticed for the first time that behind the room where he had woken up, there was a baby cradle gently rocking back and forth. Approaching it, he saw a tiny figure dressed in a pink bunny-ear onesie curled up inside.

"A... a baby?" Seeing this, Wu Que froze in place. Zhang Deshuai, as if he had seen something truly terrifying, bolted away in a flash.

Facing Wu Que’s skepticism, Hong Lei gave an awkward laugh and poked the figure in the cradle. "Little Piggy, the sun is hitting your bottom! Time to get up!"

"Wait, why is it empty?" Hong Lei’s expression shifted, and he looked down sharply; the cradle contained nothing but an empty onesie.

"Oh no!"

Wu Que stood rigid, his back soaked in cold sweat, a bone-chilling cold gripping his ankles.

"Play with me, play with me~" The "baby," now stripped of its onesie, was clutching his leg tightly, emitting a sharp sound like fingernails scraping across a blackboard. Its skin was deathly pale, bordering on blue, with thin, frail limbs and a distended belly. Its pitch-black eyes lacked whites, its blood-red mouth held no teeth, and it radiated an evil, frigid aura. This was no infant; it was a young, vengeful ghost!

The pale, cyan-skinned little demon was wrapped completely around his leg, staring at him with a twisted, eerie laugh. "Hee hee, hee hee hee."

"Let's make a bet." The boy’s expression was smiling, but his voice was devoid of emotion, as if coming from another world.

"What on earth is this thing!" Wu Que tried to pull it off, but the ghost seemed rooted to his leg, not budging an inch.

"Sigh, I can’t believe he slipped away," Hong Lei said helplessly. "Good apprentice, this is a Crybaby. Once he latches onto you, he’s like a piece of dog-skin plaster—you can't peel him off. You’d better just gamble with him. Look at the bright side: if you win, it’s a great opportunity."

Wu Que paused. "A great opportunity? Does that mean there’s a reward if I win?"

"Of course. This Crybaby may look like an infant, but he has been here since the very first batch of Dream Weavers entered the Space."

Wu Que pondered for a moment before speaking slowly. "So, what is this great opportunity?"

"If you win, you can obtain attribute points from him."

"And if I lose?"

"You’ll just have to endure a few nights of nightmares, that’s all."

"Is that really all..." Wu Que looked down at the ghost infant with a sullen expression. These attribute points, he suspected, wouldn't be easy to get. *But if I become stronger, the chances of saving my mother will be higher...*

"Fine, let’s make the bet!" Wu Que gritted his teeth and declared.

When the Crybaby heard him accept the challenge, its laughter became even more sinister. As it clung to him, Wu Que felt his body temperature drop by several degrees.

"Hee, listen to the question."

"There are three doors in front of you." As the Crybaby spoke, three pitch-black iron doors appeared before them.

"Behind one door is a doll; behind the other two, there is nothing."

"Now, choose one of the doors."

Wu Que thought for a moment and chose the door on the far right.

"Now, I will open a door that has nothing behind it," the Crybaby continued. The center iron door swung open with a bang, revealing it was indeed empty.

"Now, pick the door with the doll behind it. If you choose correctly, you win; if not, I win. You have one chance to switch doors. Do you choose to switch?"

The Crybaby’s smile grew more chilling; he seemed to relish the torment of others as they agonized over their choices.

"Switch. Of course I'll switch," Wu Que said without hesitation.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

A faint, stifled cough echoed from the corner of the room.