Chapter Thirty-Eight: Girls Who Are Drunk on Love Are Always Blessed with Good Fortune

Outside the training room.

Su Jiuming, Si Nan, and Zhao Lu were all visibly surprised.

They hadn’t expected Zhang Changlin to give such an assessment.

The strongest new Dreamcrossing Master in thirty years…

Unless Zhang Changlin was just making excuses for the beating he took, this evaluation was astonishingly high!

If word of this got out, it might actually do more harm than good to Du Fang—being praised to the skies could be just as dangerous as being underestimated.

“This kid, on the surface, looks like a clueless novice, but in reality? He’s a troublemaker in the best way,” Zhang Changlin said through gritted teeth. “His combat skills are outstanding, that much is clear from today’s training. But I’m not sure how he’ll handle real battle—maybe he hasn’t even seen blood yet. I’ll find a time to take him out on a hunt for a hidden Nightmare Demon, let him get some practical experience. That’s what really counts.”

Zhang Changlin’s strength was undeniable. With his Dream Spirit enveloping him, his physical defenses were significantly enhanced. Even so, being sliced time and again by Du Fang’s cards—even if the injuries weren’t serious—hurt like hell.

Had he known how painful it would be, Zhang Changlin wouldn’t have stood there like a fool and let Du Fang cut him up.

“That’s true,” Su Jiuming said, for once setting aside his usual flirtatiousness and speaking earnestly. “Training and real battle are two entirely different things. He needs a chance to fight for real—and if he bleeds a little, all the better.”

Si Nan and Zhao Lu exchanged glances. Hearing both Su Jiuming and Zhang Changlin praise Du Fang, their eyes brightened.

“Captain Zhang, does that mean… with the tenth National Dreamcrossing Master Tournament this year, our Wildfire Squad actually has a shot?” Si Nan asked excitedly.

The Dreamcrossing Master Tournament wasn’t just a celebration for Dreamcrossing Masters—it was an event for the whole era.

Hosted by the World Dreamcrossing Master Association, the tournament was originally created to show the world the strength of Dreamcrossing Masters, to inspire confidence in the face of nightmare disasters and prevent despair and collapse.

Now, more than a century after nightmare disasters first appeared, with Dreamcrossing Masters growing ever stronger, the threat and panic brought by such disasters had diminished to almost nothing—only the rarest and most terrifying types, those capable of destroying cities or even nations, still caused mass casualties.

So, the tournament’s purpose had shifted from bolstering public confidence to displaying the might of the Dreamcrossing Masters and intimidating the Nightmare Demons who still hid among humanity.

In a way, it was like a military exercise.

Every year, the tournament was the time for Dreamcrossing Masters to show their skills—and to claim rewards.

To motivate them, the association offered rich prizes: in previous years, rewards had included Forbidden Sequence Artifacts and Domain Dream Seeds—rare treasures worth a king’s ransom, enough to make anyone envious.

Hearing Si Nan’s question, Zhang Changlin shook his head with a wry smile. “Si, I know what you want—you hope to stand atop the tournament and prove your worth to your parents… but it’s not that easy. Du Fang may be the strongest rookie in thirty years, but he’s still a rookie. And he might not have awakened his special ability yet—his strength could be limited.”

“But overall, this might be our best chance yet. If we keep improving as a team, we might just do it. Last year, after all, we made it to the top thirty-two in the group competition.”

He chuckled.

Su Jiuming twirled a white rose and scoffed, “Don’t mention last year. That was your unlucky hand, Zhang. Out of thirty-two teams, you drew the seeded team from the capital—the one that won the whole tournament. We got crushed and humiliated. This year, before the draw, do us all a favor: bind your hands, will you?”

Zhang Changlin was speechless.

He did feel his luck was a little better this year.

Just… the past few days had been a bit rough.

Regardless, both Si Nan and Su Jiuming now looked forward to this year’s tournament, perhaps because of Zhang Changlin’s words—“the strongest new Dreamcrossing Master in thirty years.”

After all, who wouldn't want a teammate who could carry the whole team?

Having a godlike teammate was a rare kind of happiness.

…

Inside the training room.

Only Chen Xi, the assistant, and Du Fang remained.

“Du, the Newcomer Invitational is in three days. I don’t have much hope for myself, but you should be a shoo-in,” Chen Xi said, eyes gleaming with admiration.

Chen Xi and Su Xiaoyu had both spent enough time around Du Fang that they no longer found Luoluo’s presence so terrifying. Maybe it was Du Fang’s easygoing nature, or maybe it was that Luoluo never intentionally hurt anyone.

“I don’t know about that… I’m just a rookie—I haven’t even awakened my special ability yet,” Du Fang replied, rubbing the back of his head, a little embarrassed by her praise.

Besides, he hadn’t actually fought Zhang himself earlier.

Still, he was perfectly at ease with that. After all, if his wife and daughter’s abilities could be counted as his own, then wasn’t that good enough?

Chen Xi bit her lip.

She didn’t want to lag behind or be eliminated. In the Wildfire Squad, she took on the most assignments, held the most titles—but only because she was the weakest, and only the simplest, safest missions were given to her.

But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be the team’s burden.

Chen Xi stepped onto the ring, looking at Du Fang with a mix of fear and determination.

Summoning her courage, she asked to train by peering into Du Fang’s dreams—she wanted to face Luoluo head-on, to confront her greatest terror.

Du Fang was momentarily taken aback. He glanced at Luoluo, who sat on his shoulder clutching her little pig plushie, her eyes innocent.

Then he looked at Chen Xi, who seemed to be facing death itself. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Luoluo, are you really that scary?”

Luoluo shook her head vigorously, a look of grievance on her delicate, adorable face.

She was just a child—how scary could she be? The world’s sense of aesthetics was seriously warped!

With Luoluo’s consent, Du Fang agreed to Chen Xi’s special training.

Chen Xi released her Dream Spirit, pressing it to her forehead, and her consciousness immediately floated free from her body.

But just as her spirit detached, Du Fang thought of something, hesitated, and glanced at the pale, beautiful hand of his wife, draped once again over his shoulder.

That hand—so white and delicate, as if it belonged to a hand model…

It couldn’t possibly be frightening, could it?

…

The world seemed to fall silent.

Chen Xi’s spiritual form drifted free from her body.

Once again, she saw Luoluo.

Luoluo, with bloody tears streaming down her face, flesh seemingly pieced together like a shattered mask, a long tongue bristling with barbs, and a nightmarish aura pouring forth like a flood.

Chen Xi’s heart pounded as if she were facing some nameless, eldritch horror.

But she forced herself to endure, determined to conquer her fear and become stronger.

Suddenly—

She glanced at Du Fang.

Her pupils contracted; every hair on her body stood on end, a chill sweeping through her.

On Du Fang’s shoulder, she saw…

A hand, dripping with fresh blood, crouched quietly like a spider.

The bloodied hand from the double-layered nightmare!

Had Du Fang really brought that hand out with him?

With a thud, Chen Xi dropped to her knees.

An involuntary blare of trumpets and suona horns echoed in her ears…

In her mind, she saw her own gray profile picture, grinning brightly.

Chen Xi trembled all over.

She’d prepared herself for the terror of facing Luoluo.

But she hadn’t been ready for the double horror—Luoluo’s pressure coupled with the blood-soaked hand’s unspeakable presence.

With a swish, she thought she saw the bloody hand leap from Du Fang’s shoulder and slap her full in the face.

Instinctively, her eyes rolled back.

Her body stiffened and, like a tiny boat in a storm, she collapsed in a dead faint.

Perhaps, after all,

Girls who faint easily…

Are blessed with good luck.

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