1 Cocoon

"I'm home."

As expected, nobody answers the young man's half-hearted call. With an exhausted sigh, Ng Yan shuffles into his small apartment, dropping his satchel carelessly on the floor and heading straight to the shower in an attempt to wash the exhaustion weighing down on his shoulders. Robotically, Ng Yan quickly washes himself down, only taking a minute to soak in the precious hot water before reluctantly jumping out and immediately shivering from the cold.

After putting on his warmest and most worn out pair of pajamas, he immediately slips into bed, phone in hand. It's only six-thirty in the evening but Ng Yan didn't have the energy to do anything else. He can't afford to go out or watch television, he has no motivation nor interest to practice his hobbies, and he constantly feels tired to the point that it feels like his very bones have been injected with lead. All he has left is the WiFi he's stealing from his neighbor, his warm blanket and the many pillows he has for comfort.

Hugging one of the softer pillows into his arms he can't help but smile as he enjoys basking in his bed, his happiest place since forever. With one hand he scrolls down a list of online stories to distract himself with before he finally feels tired enough to go to sleep. Unfortunately, none of his favorite novels had updated enough to warrant a binge-reading session and there was no interesting new stories that caught his eye.

Reluctantly Ng Yan decided to fall back on his current back-up for times like this, a stallion novel called Half-Blood.

Half-Blood was a generic cultivation plot with an optimistic, handsome protagonist that somehow, despite his original mediocre cultivation base and initial bullying in the beginning, manages to shoot up to become the strongest cultivator in the world through hard work, friendship and love. A lot of love. Really, Ng Yan wasn't even a third of the way through and the main character, Wang ZhongYi, had already caught five girls into his harem despite not even having reached eighteen yet. It was rather disturbing.

Ng Yan scoffs as he continues reading the story. Love interests aside, the plot was decent, the twists weren't original but they were satisfying enough, and the world building was actually fairly good despite it being clear that the author doesn't have a good grasp on what cultivation generally does. Still the fact Ng Yan hadn't dropped the story completely proved its potential.

Of course the eighteen paragraphs dedicated to talking about the newest pretty sister of the month was making him seriously reconsider.

"This is ridiculous," Ng Yan mutters, "she's probably not even going to stay that long in the story, who cares if she has eyes like a young jaguar?" If only there was just as much screen time for the male comrades Wang ZhongYi had picked up, Ng Yan would've been far more invested.

Soon the story started picking up, introducing a mysterious demon mentor and another competition held in the Heavenly Cloud Sect.

This, in Ng Yan's opinion, was his absolute favorite part and soon he was grinning and wide awake as he quickly read through the short Dancing Leaf competition arc. He'd always had a weakness for arcs about training and competing in contests, and apparently the Heavenly Cloud sect master seems to love the latter just as much as he does. There was always an interesting competition being held with various rewards which would prod the plot along and allow the still young protagonist to explore parts of the world with various results. Many readers found this incredibly repetitive but Ng Yan never failed to comment and praise the ingenuity, the different sets of trials, the reactions to each seemingly ridiculous tasks, ingenious ways to overcome them, the eccentric personalities they meet during the arc, hotblooded rivals, the deception, the enthusiasm- such simple hot-blooded fantasies in an already fantastical setting was addicting.

Finally though, Ng Yan's eyes grew sore and his eyelids became heavy. Reluctantly, he set up his alarm for five in the morning and snuggled into the warmth of his bed, hugging a pillow tightly in his arms and another between his legs. He imagines his bed as a giant, delightfully comfortable cocoon and he is the fat caterpillar ready to sleep until he either dies or becomes reborn as a butterfly. Honestly, at this point, he wouldn't mind either outcome right now.

This is his last thought before he slips easily into his slumber.

...

When he went to sleep, he went calm, peacefully and comfortably, even if a little depressingly.

When he woke up, he was screaming himself hoarse and it felt like his whole body was crawling with angry fire ants under his skin.

'Well,' the small part of him not crying in agony mildly comments, 'this isn't right.'

That was a joke. There was not even a minuscule part of him not crying in agony.

After what seemed like an eternity and a half, someone blessedly must have rushed in and knocked him into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. Ng Yan didn't even have the energy to question it, despite the fact there should be no one beside him in the apartment.

...

Now Ng Yan wasn't an exceptional person. A quiet temperament with above average grades. He made good first impressions but because of his lethargy and anxiety he was always failing to nurture any prolonged communication and as a result only held superficial relationships with people outside his immediate family.

No stand out job, no friends, no energy. The type of young man can't help but let opportunities slip through his fingers like water and regret afterwards.

The only thing this person could be considered blessed with was a strong imagination and a well-trained ability to more or less completely control his own dreams however he wished. In his dreams he is the king, changing the script, skipping through periods of time, rewinding and re-altering however he wished. If he comes across a nightmare he can force himself awake with a squeeze of his eyes. If he dislikes the direction the dream is going he can jump back and remake a decision for a more satisfying story. It's not the most useful skill, arguably it cannot even be considered a skill, but for a person so worn down by his own reality it was the ultimate form of pure escapism.

It had been a while since he had dreamed something so beyond his control though.

He's a baby, already an odd way to start, and no matter how much he forces his mind he can't change a thing. Under the fuzzy blanket of sleep that dulls his higher cognition, his consciousness doesn't panic but he knows something isn't right as a couple he doesn't recognize comes to scope his small body up.

Maybe he picked their faces up subconsciously, he's never been good at remembering faces anyway. But somehow it feels wrong. It's too vivid and detailed.

The couple is cooing and smiling at him, even the man who looked quite stern and regal had a dopey expression on his face. As they continue fussing over him, more people enter the room. When he catches sight of them, he knows that something is not right.

There was no where he would have completely forgot such handsome looking people in his life. He couldn't have imagined them. His imagination was good but not this good.

Two men in similar light blue robes were brimming with elegance and nobility. They both shared some features with each other however the taller one had sharper eyes, a more defined jaw and musculature as well as an innate radiation of power and majesty that could just not be denied. Next to the taller man was a woman of equal height and handsomeness, though while the tall man had a stoic, neutral expression, the woman was far more expressive and cocky, between the pair it was like ice and fire. Despite all three being gorgeous beyond compare, it seemed the taller man and the woman were cruelly outshining the other man just by virtue of being in the same room.

"Xia Zhijun, Xia Lin, Xia Ling," The stern man greets, "Come meet your newest brother."

Before the trio can step forward the scene shifts forward. Snippets of a life of a young master flashes past. He marvels at the nature of the mountains and forests. Gawks at the architecture and treasures as he explores his home with small feet. Gasps at flying swords, fighting, fantastical spells and beasts. It was a cultivation world.

He feels himself being so very happy and content, if a touch superior. As the son of the sect master he was a little prince in a large kingdom. He is loved, adored and pampered. A blissful life already paved with guaranteed riches and happiness.

But then that night happened.

The little prince was a light sleeper, and so he woke up when he heard a rustling sound next to his body in the middle of the night. However he was still too young, too weak and more importantly, too late.

Before he knew it, he felt a thousand tiny hairy legs fall down his face, skittering over his body like a nightmarish waterfall. It was the worst thing he's ever experienced. It was falling straight from heaven into hell. He couldn't see clearly through all the spiders- and they were spiders- horrible, blood red spiders. When he tried to scream he found himself choking on them. They bit him too. Sharp, and cruel, uncaring where they attacked as he got pierced by thousands of tiny fangs all over his body. Pinpricks of burning pain and the feeling of hairy little legs constantly scurrying everyone, it was enough to go insane.

"Make it stop!" He wants to shout, "Please, please, I'll do anything! Please! Stop it!"

No matter what he tried he couldn't break free of this nightmare. He had to watch and feel and suffer until the very end as the little prince collapsed underneath the barrage of arachnids.

And then Xia Yan woke up.