Long watched him go, unsettled by the man's hollow gaze. He noticed now that several of the disciples in the hall looked similarly bleary. A young girl at the next table was nodding off over her porridge, her head bobbing down until she jerked awake, only to nod off again. Another pair of disciples spoke in whispers with a kind of manic, forced cheerfulness that didn't reach their tired eyes.
It was as if they had all slept but not truly rested. Long felt the faint hairs on his neck prickle. Something was amiss beyond just a grueling cultivation regimen.
Zhou Wei cleared his throat softly. "Our sect has many merits," he murmured to Long under his breath, "but you might notice some... weariness among us."
Long met the younger man's eyes. Zhou Wei's earlier enthusiasm had dimmed, replaced by a troubled look. "Is it due to those 'intense energies' you mentioned last night?"
Zhou Wei glanced around to ensure no eavesdroppers, then nodded subtly. "Our synchronized dream meditations have been more taxing than usual as of late. The Patriarch said it's because we are nearing a breakthrough to a higher level of collective consciousness." He spoke the words carefully, as if reciting an official statement.
Then he leaned in, lowering his voice further. "But some of us are worried. A few disciples have failed to wake up promptly from the dream sessions. They remain in extended slumber for hours... even days. We're told they achieved a state of deep Tranquility and will awaken when ready." He swallowed. "But one of them is—was—my senior brother, and it's been a week."
Long kept his face neutral, though a surge of concern ran through him. "Have the elders done nothing?" he whispered back.
"They tend to the sleepers, monitoring their vitals and spiritual aura. We've tried gentle talismans to urge them awake, but we dare not forcefully rouse them—if their souls wander too far in the dream realms, a sudden pull could... could sever the spirit." Zhou Wei stared down at his hands. "The Patriarch insists they are on the cusp of true enlightenment, that we should be proud. But... I'm frightened for my brother. Proud or not, he's still gone."
A heavy silence settled between them, despite the quiet clink of bowls and hushed voices in the hall around. Long processed what he heard. Disciples not waking for days—a deeply troubling sign. He had some knowledge of soul cultivation and the dangers of mental techniques. If one delved too deep into illusion or one's own mind, there was a risk of becoming lost in one's sea of consciousness. The sect's practice, while innovative, clearly carried risks.
Before Long could ask more, a gentle gong sounded from outside—three soft chimes. The disciples in the hall roused themselves. Some downed the last of their porridge quickly; others simply stood and began heading toward the courtyard, leaving bowls behind.
Zhou Wei got to his feet. "It's the morning assembly. The Dawn Elder will give blessings and assign tasks. You're welcome to join, Senior Long. Outsiders are allowed to observe, and perhaps you'll meet our elders officially."
Long nodded and rose, the cub immediately at his side, licking a stray bit of porridge from its snout. As they left the hall, Long pondered Zhou Wei's words. If something was going wrong with their dream cultivation, how far had it spread among the sect?
Disciples converged in the central courtyard, forming loose lines. There were maybe thirty present—fewer than Long expected for a sect with an established temple. Perhaps others were still inside or away. Many wore those same tired expressions.
At the front steps of the Hall of Somnolence stood two figures in more elaborate robes. One was a middle-aged woman with streaks of silver in her hair, her eyes sharp despite a calm smile. The other was an older man, bald-headed and leaning lightly on a twisted wooden cane. The man looked like he could fall asleep standing up; his eyes were half-lidded, and he swayed ever so gently as if lulled by an invisible breeze. Yet, as he lifted a hand for silence, the murmuring crowd obeyed at once.
"That's Elder Lin and Elder Sui," Zhou Wei whispered to Long. "Elder Lin is our 'Dawn Elder' who oversees morning rites. Elder Sui is... well, he mostly handles logistics. Some call him the 'Dusk Elder' affectionately because he's always snoozing by sundown."
Long hid a smile at the nicknames. The wolf cub sat at his feet, ears perked but remaining quiet, seemingly sensing the solemnity of the gathering.
Elder Lin stepped forward. Her voice was clear and melodious, cutting through the morning air. "Disciples of Serene Dream," she began, "last night our collective meditation was peaceful, and our shared consciousness grew a little stronger. Today, as you tend to your duties and personal cultivation, keep that harmony in your hearts." Her eyes scanned the crowd, full of pride.
Then her tone took on a practiced warmth. "We have a guest among us." She gestured gracefully toward Long. "Long, a wandering cultivator, found refuge here last night. Let us welcome him as a friend on the path."
Every face turned to Long. He bowed politely. "Thank you for your hospitality, Elders and fellow cultivators."
Some disciples smiled or bowed back. A few simply stared, their expressions a bit blank.
Elder Lin nodded at him, then continued, "Long, you honor us with your presence. May your time here bring you insight and rest. If you wish, you may access our outer library or join any open practice during your stay."
Long expressed his gratitude again, careful to remain humble.
Elder Lin then moved on to assignments, directing two disciples to clear a small mudslide on a path (last night's storm, presumably), and others to tend to the gardens. She had a gentle but firm demeanor, and Long noticed how even the dreariest-eyed students seemed to stand a bit straighter under her gaze.
As the meeting concluded, Elder Lin added serenely, "Lastly, remember: the boundary between dreams and reality is yours to traverse. Walk it with wisdom. Clarity of mind be with you all."