Long trudged along the winding mountain path under a moonless sky, a weary traveler with heavy eyelids and an even heavier heart. Beside him padded a small wolf cub, its grey fur silvered by starlight, bright eyes scanning the darkness warily. The night air was cool and thin at this altitude, each breath a crisp reminder of how far they'd traveled without rest. Long pulled his threadbare cloak tighter, wishing for a warm fire and a safe place to close his eyes for a few hours.
A distant roll of thunder echoed off the peaks. Not another storm, Long thought grimly. He glanced down at the cub. The little wolf's ears perked up, catching the faint rumble. It whined softly, nudging Long's calf with its damp nose. He managed a tired smile and gently scratched behind its ears. "I know, little one," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper in the vast silence. "We need to find shelter soon."
The path ahead twisted through a dense thicket of pines. Through their swaying silhouettes, Long spotted a soft glow somewhere further up the mountain slope. Lantern light? Or perhaps bioluminescent moss? He couldn't be sure, but where there was light, there might be people. And where there were people, perhaps a roof for the night.
The cub let out a quiet huff as if in agreement when Long changed direction toward the glow. Together they left the main path, stepping over gnarled roots and damp ferns. With each step, the light grew clearer—a warm yellow illumination filtering through what looked like an ornate wooden gate.
As they approached, the structure came into view. A traditional archway stood between two ancient cedar trees, bearing a faded inscription. Long paused to read the characters carved into the wood: Temple of Serene Dream. The name tugged at his memory; he had heard whispers of a secluded sect in these mountains, a place where cultivators pursued enlightenment through sleep and dreams. Travelers in taverns had spoken of it in hushed, bemused tones, calling it the sect that cultivates dreams. At the time, Long had chuckled, imagining a hall full of snoring disciples. Now, faced with the carved name under the starlight, he wondered how much of those rumors were true.
The gate was slightly ajar, one door opened inward. Golden lamplight spilled out onto the stone steps. Long hesitated at the threshold. It was late, nearly midnight. Would knocking rouse anger? Some sects were fiercely private. But the thunder sounded again, nearer this time, and a cold wind rattled the cedars. He couldn't afford to be picky.
Just as he raised a hand to push the gate further, a figure emerged from behind the archway carrying a lantern. It was a young man in simple robes of pale blue, eyes bleary as if he had just woken. He nearly dropped the lantern when he saw Long standing there with the wolf cub at his side.
"Who goes—oh!" the disciple exclaimed, voice cracking from surprise. He rubbed his eyes and straightened his posture in a hurry. "Greetings, traveler. This is the Temple of Serene Dream. Are you seeking something at this hour?"
Long inclined his head respectfully, one hand lightly holding the cub by the scruff to keep it from straying through the gate uninvited. "Apologies for the late intrusion," he said in a low, courteous tone. "My name is Long. I'm a wandering cultivator caught in the mountains after nightfall. I saw the light from your gate. Would it be possible to shelter here until morning? The weather seems to be turning."
The young disciple blinked hard, trying to chase away his drowsiness. He looked Long up and down, taking in the travel-worn cloak, the sword strapped at his back, the small wolf cub now sniffing at a stray pinecone on the ground. The sight of the cub made him smile slightly. "A fellow traveler with a... rather cute companion." The disciple stifled a yawn with his free hand. "We don't often get visitors, but our sect does not turn away those in need of rest. In fact, rest is something of a specialty here."
Long managed a polite chuckle at that. The disciple pushed the gate open wider in welcome. "Please, come in. My name is Zhou Wei, a junior disciple. I was on night watch duty." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "Though I fear I may have dozed off if you hadn't come along."
Inside the gate, a cobblestone path led through a manicured courtyard. Even in the dim lantern glow, Long could see neat rows of stone lanterns and small gardens of night-blooming flowers releasing a sweet, soporific fragrance. A few simple wooden buildings with curved eaves were scattered around, their windows dark. The entire place was enveloped in a tranquil hush.
As Long stepped through, Zhou Wei peered curiously at the cub. "Is... is it safe?" he asked, keeping a respectful distance.
The wolf cub in question looked up and yawned, revealing tiny sharp teeth, then sat back on its haunches innocently. Long smirked. "Completely safe. He's well-behaved." The cub sneezed as if indignant at being discussed, making Zhou Wei jump back before he realized it was just a sneeze.
Long hid a grin. "Don't worry, he's practically a puppy still." The cub shot Long a sidelong glance that looked almost offended, as if it understood being called a puppy.
They followed Zhou Wei down the path. "Our sect values tranquility, especially at night," Zhou Wei whispered, though in the quiet of the courtyard even his soft voice seemed loud. "Most of my fellow disciples are already asleep, or in meditation." He gestured to a larger building at the center of the compound—a hall with a gently sloping roof and a pair of red lacquered doors. "That's the Hall of Somnolence, where we hold our nightly dream meditations. You're fortunate tonight is calm; sometimes the energies can be... unsettling for newcomers."
Long raised an eyebrow at the name Hall of Somnolence. He had to fight back an amused smirk. This place really does take sleep seriously, he mused. "Unsettling energies?" he inquired quietly. "I hope my arrival isn't at a bad time."