The old crane carried Chen Zhou, galloping toward the east.
Until they entered the Taihe Hall square, the surrounding scenery shifted once more.
The simple palace courtyards vanished, and an altar suddenly appeared before Chen Zhou’s eyes.
The altar was constructed from white marble and divided into three tiers, with stone steps leading to the top.
At the very top of the structure sat a circular sacrificial altar.
Most of the railings were broken, moss grew over the steps, and the incense burner in the center of the altar had long since toppled over, spilling incense ash across the ground.
A large number of ghosts wandered around the Altar of Heaven, no longer appearing as palace maids or eunuchs, but as people dressed in ancient robes.
There were civil officials, military generals, and even priests wearing sacrificial ceremonial robes.
A sense of hunger, deeper than anything before, surged forth.
The Nine-Age Crane struggled to remain standing; its body swayed, and the clarity in its eyes began to falter once more.
It instinctively plucked out one of its feathers, preparing to throw it down to see if it could lure anything out.
Chen Zhou grabbed the feather mid-air.
"No need."
He could sense a familiar fiendish qi on these ghosts, carrying a dreamlike sense of blurred reality.
Although these wandering ghosts appeared to be walking, their eyes were tightly shut; they were all sleepwalking.
This had to be the work of the Dream Demon.
Inducing a large-scale dream state was Little Pig’s specialty.
The Nine-Age Crane froze for a moment, then indignantly snatched its feather back, turning to reinsert it into the base of its wing, even pressing down hard for fear it might fall out.
If you didn't want the feather, you should have said so sooner!
Its feathers were very precious now; it couldn't even grow more due to malnutrition!
Chen Zhou patted its head, smiled, and then closed his eyes to try and contact Little Pig again.
He couldn't reach it earlier from the periphery, perhaps because the distance was too great or because the rules of the Path of Hungry Ghosts were shielding it.
But now that they had reached the edge of Little Pig’s dream, it might work.
'Little Pig?'
Chen Zhou called out in his sea of consciousness.
A moment later.
"Hngh..."
A faint response came through the contract.
It sounded devoid of energy, like someone who hadn't slept or eaten for days, on the verge of death at any moment.
Immediately after, the surrounding space suddenly twisted.
Thick, deep purple fiendish qi spilled into the air.
The fiendish qi surged like a tide, instantly enveloping Chen Zhou and the old crane.
The surrounding scenery began to blur, stretch, and distort.
The two felt the ground vanish beneath them as they were dragged into a dream interlayer.
This was the intersection between reality and dreams, and it was also Little Pig’s absolute domain.
When his vision cleared again, Chen Zhou found himself standing in a hazy, grey space.
The wandering ghosts became distinct within the dream.
They were all lined up obediently, heads bowed, moving forward slowly.
The long queue coiled up the steps of the Altar of Heaven.
At the end of the line, at the very peak of the altar, stood a mountain of flesh.
Chunks of black meat were piled up like a mountain, occupying almost the entire top of the altar.
Every ghost followed the order.
They walked up to the mountain of flesh and used sharp claws to gouge out a piece of meat.
Then, the ghosts would cradle the black meat, gnawing on it as they departed in an orderly fashion from the other side.
Next to the mountain of flesh stood another person.
Song Zi'an.
He looked miserable.
His eyes were sunken with dark circles beneath them, looking as if he had been punched twice.
He held a giant spatula in his hand, standing before a massive iron pot, frantically stir-frying the contents.
Inside the iron pot were small cubes of black meat.
His spatula was moving so fast it was almost smoking.
He continuously sliced scraps from the mountain of flesh, threw them into the pot to flash-fry them, and then distributed them to the ghosts who looked particularly weak, those who couldn't even extend their nails.
"Come, take this, eat it while it's hot."
"Don't fight, there's enough for everyone, everyone."
Song Zi'an muttered listlessly while mechanically stir-frying the food.
Behind Song Zi'an, Little Pig had revealed its true form as a Dream Demon.
It had grown countless times larger, lying beneath the altar like a small mountain.
Its massive beast-skull hung limply over its front paws, eyelids half-open with heavy exhaustion, trapped in a semi-conscious slumber.
Even the majestic Nightmare Eyes across its body were all tightly closed.
The Nine-Age Crane immediately grew alert upon seeing Song Zi'an.
Its feathers puffed out, and it let out a low, threatening growl from its throat.
The cunning Path of Hungry Ghosts was trying to trick it again!
Did they really think an auspicious beast was so easily fooled!
Chen Zhou patted its neck, signaling for it to be quiet.
"It shouldn't be an illusion."
Chen Zhou looked at the half-dead Little Pig and felt the connection through their contract.
"Go on."
The Nine-Age Crane, still skeptical, carried Chen Zhou over and landed on the altar.
Song Zi'an, who was stir-frying, heard the movement and jerked his head around.
Upon seeing the massive shadow of the crane, he also looked alert.
"Who is it?!"
By reflex, he grabbed the pot and slid behind Little Pig, only peeking out with half his head to observe.
"Lord Pig, the hungry ghost illusion is back again, wake up!"
Song Zi'an pushed hard against Little Pig’s backside.
Little Pig swayed from the push and managed to pry one eye open, glancing at him.
Then it looked at Chen Zhou and the Nine-Age Crane who had landed.
It stared blankly for two seconds.
Then, a puff of purple smoke drifted from its massive snout.
"Hngh..."
Little Pig let out a yawn, seemingly trying to express surprise, but it truly lacked the energy.
It was too sleepy and too hungry.
After confirming they were allies, it closed its eyes again, burying its head even deeper.
Chen Zhou stood in silence for a moment.
Chen Zhou dismounted, walked up to Little Pig, and patted its long, exposed tusks.
"What happened? How did you end up in this state?"
Little Pig grunted weakly twice, seemingly trying to explain something.
But its voice was too faint for Chen Zhou to hear clearly.
Song Zi'an peeked out from behind Little Pig.
He squinted and noticed that Little Pig was very submissive, showing no signs of lashing out.
One had to know that Little Pig had a terrible temper; even when the young monk Wu Gou wanted to pet it, it would bare its teeth.
If it were a hungry ghost, they wouldn't even be able to get close, unless...
Song Zi'an froze, then the realization hit him.
"Are... are you My Lord?!"
Song Zi'an’s eyes instantly turned red, filled with the joy of surviving a disaster and the excitement of seeing his leader.
"My Lord! You finally came!"
Chen Zhou nodded. "It's me."
Song Zi'an was overjoyed and looked toward the Nine-Age Crane behind Chen Zhou.
"A Ling?!"
"Ga!"
The old crane could no longer hold back; it let out an excited, long cry and rushed forward with flapping wings.
The man and the crane embraced tightly.
The Nine-Age Crane continuously rubbed its head against Song Zi'an’s face, its tears soaking through his clothes.
Song Zi'an also hugged its neck, weeping until his face was a mess of snot and tears.
Chen Zhou interrupted their reunion somewhat impolitely, pointing at Little Pig.
"What exactly is going on with it?"
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