Don't sleep. Someone is in your dream.

  The note on his headboard glowed faintly, golden characters glaring in the darkness like eyes watching him.

  Li Ming sat up abruptly, heart racing—thump thump thump—like it would burst from his chest. Cold sweat covered his forehead, sliding down his cheeks, dripping onto the pillow and spreading into a damp stain.

  He'd... fallen asleep?

  He'd seen the warning, knew something was wrong, yet still slept? Like something had forcibly dragged him into slumber, no chance to struggle.

  "Damn."

  He cursed, voice hoarse as sandpaper. His throat felt like smoke, lips cracked and bleeding at the corners, metallic sweetness spreading in his mouth.

  The room was pitch black, but whiteness already showed outside the window. Dawn had arrived, morning light filtering through rice paper screens, casting mottled shadows across the room. Dust motes danced in the beams, golden like tiny stars.

  "Chen Feng is waiting."

  Li Ming rubbed his throbbing temples, mind heavy as lead, groggy like a hangover. He remembered seeing the note, remembered needing to stay alert, but after that... memories blurred like fog, impossible to recall.

  "Someone is in your dream..."

  He looked around. Same room—broken bed, broken table, broken wardrobe. But something... was different.

  A scent lingered in the air.

  Not his room's smell, but... something stranger. Like someone had been here, left something behind. Faint, nearly undetectable, but Li Ming could sense it—someone else's odor, carrying blood, and... decay?

  Li Ming got out of bed, feet touching the floor, cold shooting up through his soles, climbing his calves to his knees. He walked to the table, fingers tracing its surface.

  Dust had been disturbed.

  Three lines, clear, like someone had leaned on the table.

  "Someone came in."

  He walked to the wardrobe, opening it. The hinges squealed, jarringly loud in the silent room. Clothes remained, the original's meager possessions intact. But...

  The cloth bundle in the corner—wrong position.

  He clearly remembered placing it on the left, now it was on the right. And the bundle's ties... loose.

  "They searched my things."

  Li Ming clenched his fist, nails digging into flesh, palm bleeding. But he didn't panic. Nine years coding in his past life—servers hacked, databases leaked, code stolen—he'd seen worse.

  "Check the system first."

  He closed his eyes, trying to call up the code view.

  The system interface appeared, pale green text flickering in darkness, but...

  [Warning] System function restricted

  [Reason] Dream intrusion residue

  [Recommendation] Clear anomaly before retry

  "Dream intrusion?"

  Li Ming frowned, brow knitting together.

  He concentrated, beginning to check his own "status code." Like examining server logs—line by line, finding anomalies, finding bugs, finding things that shouldn't exist.

  ```

  [Li_Ming_Status.py]

  def spiritual_core():

  energy_level = 15 # Qi Refinement Layer One

  stability = 0.5 # stability decreased

  anomaly_detected = False # disguise active

  dream_intrusion = True # dream intrusion marker

  ```

  "dream_intrusion = True..."

  Li Ming stared at that line, heart chilling, like cold water flowing down his spine.

  Someone had entered his dream and left a marker. Like a hacker leaving a backdoor after breaching a system—able to return anytime, do whatever they wanted.

  "Must clear this."

  He tried modifying that line, changing True to False. Fingers tracing through empty air, the code began flashing, yellow warning lights blinking.

  But the system notified:

  [Insufficient permissions] Dream marker cannot be directly modified

  [Recommendation] Find intrusion source for indirect clearance

  "Source..."

  Li Ming opened his eyes, surveying the room. Morning light had strengthened, everything clearly visible.

  Where was the source?

  He walked to the bed, crouching, looking underneath. Nothing but dust beneath the bed. Thick dust accumulated over years, his footprints visible, and... someone else's footprints?

  "Two sets of footprints..."

  He squinted. The prints were light, nearly invisible, but definitely present. And... their orientation pointed toward where he'd been sleeping.

  He walked to the window, checking the frame. No signs of forced entry, but a small hole in the rice paper screen—like someone had pierced it with a needle. Tiny, invisible unless you looked closely.

  "Then that means..."

  He looked toward his own head.

  "It's inside my brain?"

  The thought made his back run cold, hairs standing on end.

  If the intrusion source was in his brain, how to clear it? Did he have to...

  "Kill himself?"

  Li Ming laughed bitterly, the sound echoing hollowly in the empty room, somewhat hoarse.

  That was too absurd.

  "Forget this for now, Chen Feng..."

  He checked the sky—the sun had risen, probably Si hour. Chen Feng said to meet at the library entrance, bring *Advanced Qi Circulation Method* and *Spiritual Energy Circulation Detailed Explanation*.

  Wang Hu said bring fakes.

  Old Zhou said don't go.

  Chen Feng said don't be late.

  "Damn."

  He cursed again.

  What kind of multiple choice was this? Every option was a trap, every option potentially a dead end.

  "But..."

  Li Ming paused, eyes fixed on the window.

  "If I don't go, Chen Feng will report last night's back mountain trip to Law Enforcement Hall. If I go but bring fake books, Chen Feng will cause trouble after discovering. If I go, bringing real books..."

  "Then the techniques are gone."

  He weighed his options.

  Techniques could be borrowed again; life only came once. Techniques lost could be found again, but life lost meant nothing remained.

  "Bring fakes."

  Li Ming decided, drawing a deep breath.

  But he couldn't copy techniques—his system hadn't unlocked that function, and even if it could, he wouldn't waste it. He needed to...

  "Write a fake one."

  The thought made Li Ming pause.

  Write a fake technique? Would that work? Chen Feng wasn't stupid, he'd definitely check.

  But then again, techniques were code. Code could be written, why couldn't techniques? And he'd seen the real technique's code, remembered the framework structure. Leave the core parts empty, make the outside look real—should fool him.

  "Try it."

  He sat at the table, taking out paper and brush. Ordinary paper, brush for the original's calligraphy practice. He wasn't skilled with brush, but no time remained.

  He closed his eyes, beginning to recall *Advanced Qi Circulation Method*'s code structure.

  Yesterday at the library, he'd seen that book's code. Though incomplete, many parts empty, he remembered the general framework.

  "def absorb_energy()...def circulate()...def store()..."

  He began writing on the paper.

  But not writing Chinese characters—writing code.

  Anyone seeing would think him mad—what cultivator wrote code? Cultivators wrote talismans, technique mantras, spiritual energy circulation routes, who used Python?

  But Li Ming didn't care. To him, techniques were code, code was techniques.

  He wrote slowly, each line requiring thought. This wasn't ordinary code—this was... a technique. Write wrong, and he might suffer qi deviation, meridians severed, death on the spot. Each line he wrote, he mentally circulated once, ensuring logical correctness.

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  An hour later.

  Li Ming set down the brush, looking at the "technique" on the table.

  The paper was covered in densely packed code, handwriting crooked—he wasn't used to brush. But the content looked much like the real *Advanced Qi Circulation Method*. Core functions, parameter definitions, loop logic... all present.

  But the core parts... were empty.

  Like what he'd seen before, those buggy areas—he deliberately left blanks. Writing "#omitted here," or using comments instead of actual code.

  "This should fool Chen Feng."

  He folded the paper, tucking it into his robes against his chest. Then he straightened his clothes and pushed open the door.

  As he reached the outer sect plaza, he heard commotion, voices growing louder like boiling water.

  "Did you hear? Another one died last night!"

  "Who?"

  "Don't know, heard it was an outer disciple, found dead in his room this morning, body..."

  "Shh, quiet, Law Enforcement Hall is investigating. Don't bring trouble on yourself."

  Li Ming stopped, heart tightening.

  "Another one died..."

  A player? Or ordinary disciple? If caused by buggy techniques, then...

  He continued walking, trying to stay inconspicuous, head down, steps light. But halfway there, he was blocked.

  "Li Ming."

  Two disciples in Law Enforcement Hall attire stood before him, expressions severe, whips in hand, waist tokens hanging. Law Enforcement Hall tokens were black, engraved with "Law"—just looking at them made one's heart tremble.

  "Something you need?" Li Ming asked, voice as calm as possible.

  "Come with us." One said, tone harsh. "Someone reported you trespassing forbidden zones last night."

  "Last night?" Li Ming played dumb. "I was cultivating in my room last night. Never went out."

  "Really?" The disciple smiled, mockery in the expression. "Then someone saw you heading toward the back mountain—were their eyes playing tricks?"

  "Probably." Li Ming said. "Dark at night, easy to mistake. Maybe they saw a cat."

  "Fine." The disciple nodded. "Then come to Law Enforcement Hall, make a statement. If you're proven innocent, we'll release you."

  "Now?" Li Ming frowned.

  "Now." The disciple said, reaching to grab his arm.

  "Can I go somewhere first?"

  "No." The disciple refused flatly. "You're a suspect now, can't go anywhere."

  "Then..."

  "Enough talk." The disciple reached for him. "Come. Don't force us to act."

  Li Ming sidestepped.

  The movement was fast—too fast for the disciple to react.

  The air solidified for a moment, even wind stopping.

  "You dare resist?" The disciple's face changed, turning ashen. "Assaulting Law Enforcement Hall—that's no light charge. Confinement at best, expulsion at worst."

  "I didn't resist." Li Ming said. "I just... don't want to go."

  "Not your choice." The disciple reached again, this time using spiritual power.

  Li Ming felt pressure rushing toward him, like an invisible hand pushing, forcing him back two steps. But he steadied himself, didn't fall.

  "Qi Refinement Layer One..." The disciple frowned. "You broke through?"

  "Last night."

  "Then you definitely have to come." The disciple said. "Breaking through without reporting, private cultivation—that's also a crime. You're... incorrigible."

  "Everything's a crime." Li Ming laughed, resignation in the sound. "Then what do you want? Arrest me?"

  "Come with us." The disciple said, tone harsher. "No more talk, come with us."

  Li Ming was silent several seconds, eyes fixed on the two men's tokens, the black "Law" characters gleaming in sunlight.

  Then he said:

  "What if I don't go?"

  "Then don't blame us for being impolite."

  The disciple reached to grab, both of them this time. Their hands carried spiritual power, glowing pale yellow.

  Li Ming stepped back, then...

  Ran.

  He wasn't stupid. Qi Refinement Layer One against Layer Three—fighting head-on was suicide. He could beat one, not two. But he ran fast—years of catching buses in his past life had trained him.

  "Stop!"

  Shouts came from behind, growing distant.

  Li Ming ignored them, running desperately. He wasn't going to the library anymore, not to Law Enforcement Hall—he was going to...

  "The back mountain."

  Only there was temporarily safe. Law Enforcement Hall didn't dare enter the back mountain casually, because of earth-bound spirits.

  He passed through the outer sect district, running toward the dense forest. Two Law Enforcement Hall disciples pursued closely, but Li Ming knew the terrain, taking small paths—routes the original used when gathering herbs, overgrown with weeds but concealed.

  After roughly half an incense stick's time, the pursuers were gone.

  "Shook them?"

  Li Ming stopped, leaning against a tree panting. His lungs felt ready to explode, throat full of blood taste, chest heaving violently. Sweat slid down his cheeks, dripping to the ground, quickly absorbed by dirt.

  He didn't dare stop, continuing deeper into the dense forest. The path narrowed, grass grew deeper, sunlight blocked by canopy, surroundings growing darker.

  When he reached last night's clearing, he stopped.

  Someone was in the clearing.

  Old Zhou sat there, a small fire burning before him, roasting something. Flames small, blue smoke rising, a scent wafting through the air.

  "You're late." Old Zhou didn't look up, holding a branch and prodding the fire.

  "You knew I'd come?" Li Ming approached, standing by the fire.

  "I knew Law Enforcement Hall would chase you." Old Zhou said, tone flat like discussing something ordinary. "Chen Feng reported you."

  Li Ming's heart tightened: "Chen Feng?"

  "You thought Chen Feng genuinely wanted to trade with you?" Old Zhou laughed, bitterness in the sound. "He was testing you. Testing your relationship with Law Enforcement Hall, testing your background, testing... if you're a player."

  "Then what now..."

  "You're a suspect now." Old Zhou said. "Law Enforcement Hall won't let you go. Trespassing forbidden zones, plus... suspected player."

  "Suspected player?" Li Ming frowned. "What kind of crime is that?"

  "Not a crime." Old Zhou said. "But Law Enforcement Hall doesn't want players existing. Players break rules, will... cause trouble."

  "Then what to do?"

  "Two choices." Old Zhou stood, picking up his staff. "First, come with me, I'll take you somewhere safe. Second, go back, surrender, then... leave it to fate."

  "Where's the safe place?"

  "Back mountain cliff." Old Zhou said. "There's a cave there, I discovered it ten years ago. Law Enforcement Hall doesn't dare go."

  "Why?"

  "Because of earth-bound spirits." Old Zhou said. "Last night's was just one of many. They linger at the cave entrance, blocking outsiders."

  Li Ming fell silent.

  Going to the cliff meant binding with Old Zhou. If Old Zhou was a Cleaner, he was walking into a trap. But if Old Zhou was real, the cliff was indeed safe.

  Going back meant facing Law Enforcement Hall. They wouldn't let him go easily, might imprison him, might torture him, might...

  "I choose third." Li Ming said.

  "What?" Old Zhou froze.

  "I choose myself." Li Ming said. "I don't go to the cliff, don't go back. I go to..."

  "Where?"

  "The library." Li Ming said. "Chen Feng is still waiting. I want to ask him face-to-face if he reported me."

  "Are you mad?" Old Zhou said. "Law Enforcement Hall is hunting you, Chen Feng is waiting—going to the library now is walking into a trap. Death either way."

  "I know." Li Ming said. "But I must go."

  "Why?"

  "Because..." Li Ming paused, eyes sharpening. "Because I want to know how this game... is actually played. If I don't take initiative, I'll always be passive, always led by others."

  Old Zhou was silent several seconds, something like admiration flashing in his eyes.

  "Go then." He said. "But I remind you, Chen Feng isn't someone you can handle. He's an Executor, cultivation at least Layer Five. You... be careful."

  "I know." Li Ming said. "But I have my methods."

  "What methods?"

  "Code." Li Ming said. "I can see code, fix bugs, can... rewrite rules. This world treats me differently than him."

  "Then be careful." Old Zhou said. "If you don't survive... come find me at the cliff. I still owe you a favor."

  Then he turned and left, quickly vanishing into the trees.

  Li Ming stood there, watching the old man's back disappear, then drew a deep breath, walking toward the library.

  When he reached the library entrance, it was already Si hour.

  Chen Feng was still there.

  He leaned against a pillar at the entrance, arms crossed, expression bland, eyes coldly watching Li Ming approach. Morning light fell on him, stretching his shadow long.

  "You're late." Chen Feng spoke, voice flat.

  "Law Enforcement Hall chased me." Li Ming admitted, stopping five paces from him. "You reported me?"

  "Yes." Chen Feng didn't deny it. "I needed to confirm your value."

  "Confirm what?"

  "Confirm if you're a player." Chen Feng said. "Whether you run when Law Enforcement Hall chases you. Run, and you're a player. Don't run, ordinary disciple."

  "Then now..."

  "You ran." Chen Feng said. "So you're a player."

  Li Ming fell silent.

  "Don't be nervous." Chen Feng smiled, this smile not playful but... somewhat relaxed. "I'm not here to kill you. I just... needed confirmation."

  "Confirm why?"

  "Because I want to team up." Chen Feng said. "This game, solo means death. I need teammates."

  "Teammates?"

  "Yes." Chen Feng said. "But not ordinary teammates—complementary teammates. You can see code, fix bugs, very useful. A good match for me."

  "Then what do you want me to do?"

  "Simple." Chen Feng said. "Help me steal books, I help you handle Law Enforcement Hall. Then... clear the game together."

  "What's the condition for clearing?"

  "Don't know." Chen Feng admitted. "But I believe it must relate to techniques. Techniques with bugs might be... keys."

  "Keys?"

  "Keys to open something." Chen Feng said. "But I don't know what. Might open a place, might open a secret, might also be... keys to open the way back."

  Li Ming fell silent.

  Chen Feng's proposal... was tempting. Team up, survive, clear. But why trust Chen Feng? He might be a Cleaner, an Executor, might just want to use him, kill him after getting the techniques.

  "How do I trust you?" Li Ming asked. "You might be a Cleaner, an Executor, might... just want to use me."

  "You can't trust me." Chen Feng said. "Just like I can't trust you. But..."

  He paused, expression turning serious.

  "But we have no choice." Chen Feng said. "Cooperate or die. Which do you choose?"

  Li Ming looked at Chen Feng for a long time. In morning light, Chen Feng's expression was unclear, but those eyes... very serious, not lying.

  "The books?" He asked. "The books you wanted, I brought them."

  Chen Feng smiled.

  "Give them."

  Li Ming pulled the paper from his robes, handing it over. The paper was crumpled from his grip, densely covered in code.

  Chen Feng took the paper, opening it, glancing once.

  Then his expression changed.

  Eyes widening, lips slightly parting, like seeing something impossible.

  "This is..."

  "Fake." Li Ming said. "I needed to confirm something."

  "What?"

  "Confirm if you really want to cooperate." Li Ming said. "If you discover fake books but still want to talk, that's real. If you discover fake books and turn hostile..."

  "Then it's fake." Chen Feng finished.

  He stared at Li Ming for a long time. Something like surprise, or admiration, flashed in his eyes.

  "Clever." Chen Feng said. "But do you know, that move just now... might have killed you. If I really turned hostile, you wouldn't survive a breath."

  "I know." Li Ming said. "But I had to try. Otherwise I'd never know if you're real or fake."

  "And now?" Chen Feng asked. "You tried, satisfied?"

  "Not satisfied." Li Ming said. "Because I have one more question."

  "What?"

  "That disciple who died last night..." Li Ming said. "Who killed them?"

  Chen Feng was silent.

  A long silence.

  Wind blew, library wind chimes ringing.

  "I don't know." He finally said. "But I suspect... Cleaners."

  "Why?"

  "Because the death matches previous ones." Chen Feng said. "Body without wounds, but... code was erased."

  "Code erased?"

  "Yes." Chen Feng said. "Like someone deleted their 'existence' from this world. Memories, traces, everyone's impressions of them... all vanished."

  Ice ran down Li Ming's back, like cold water flowing down his spine.

  "Then next..."

  "Might be you." Chen Feng said. "Might be me. Anyone could be."

  "Then what to do?"

  "Get strong fast." Chen Feng said. "Break through fast, unlock functions fast, find the truth fast. One step slow means death."

  "How to get strong?"

  "Steal books." Chen Feng said. "Real books. Tomorrow at dawn, library entrance. Don't bring fakes this time."

  "What if I don't bring them?"

  "Then you're the enemy." Chen Feng said. "I'll kill you myself. My patience is limited, don't test me."

  Then he turned and left, footsteps tap tap tap, quickly vanishing behind the library.

  Li Ming stood there, watching his back disappear, palm covered in cold sweat.

  "Tomorrow at dawn..."

  He clenched his fist, nails digging into flesh, palm bleeding.

  "Then we'll see tomorrow."

  He turned back.

  As he reached the outer sect district, he felt—

  Someone watching him.

  Not Chen Feng, not Old Zhou, not Wang Hu. This gaze... colder, more dangerous, like seeping from underground, carrying death.

  Like...

  "Cleaners?"

  Li Ming didn't look back, kept walking, steps quickening, trying to appear unflustered.

  But he could feel that gaze following him, like an invisible thread tied to him, pulling him, tracking him.

  Until he returned to his room, shut the door—the gaze finally vanished.

  He leaned against the door, exhaling slowly, heart still racing.

  He pulled the curtains, then sat on the bed.

  The system interface appeared before him, pale green text flickering in darkness:

  [Cultivation] Qi Refinement Layer One 15/200

  [Functions] Code View, Technique Analysis, Bug Fix, Counter-Tracking

  [Status] Disguise active (Cleaner detection difficulty +50%)

  [Restriction] 30% system function disabled

  [Anomaly] Dream intrusion marker (uncleared)

  "Dream intrusion..."

  Li Ming closed his eyes, beginning to check his code. He had to find that marker, clear it, or tonight someone would enter his dream again.

  But searched long, couldn't find it.

  "Where..."

  He suddenly thought of a possibility.

  "What if... not in my code?"

  "What if in..."

  "The room?"

  He opened his eyes, looking around. Same room—broken bed, broken table, broken wardrobe, nothing changed.

  But...

  The black note on his headboard was gone.

  "Damn."

  He cursed.

  The note said "Don't sleep. Someone is in your dream."

  Now the note was gone.

  Meaning...

  "Intrusion already complete?"

  "Or... the note itself was part of the intrusion?"

  Li Ming clenched his fist, palm bleeding.

  "Then tonight..."

  "Can't sleep again."

  He stood, walking to the table, picking up the brush.

  If he couldn't sleep, then he would...

  "Stay awake."