That night, as Bowen slipped into the now-familiar dreamscape, he felt something was different. The green mist swirled as usual, but it seemed thinner, less vibrant. Liang Ziyang emerged from the haze, his demeanor calm but lacking its usual sharp energy.
"Liang," Bowen greeted enthusiastically, "you won't believe what happened today! Liang Yue replied to my comment! She called my voice unique. Can you imagine? A celebrity like her praising me? And the fans—they're starting to connect with me. It feels… incredible."
Liang nodded slowly, offering a faint smile. "That's good, Bowen. You're learning how to navigate this world, how to harness opportunities and turn them into stepping stones. I'm proud of what you've achieved."
Bowen frowned slightly. "You sound… different today. Is everything okay?"
For a moment, Liang didn't respond. He simply studied Bowen with an expression that was uncharacteristically solemn.
"Boy," Liang began, his voice quieter than usual, "there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been holding back."
Bowen's stomach tightened. "What is it?"
Liang sighed, the mist around him flickering faintly. "The energy in the jade amulet is running out. It's the energy that allows me to stay here, to communicate with you in your dreams. Without it, I'll be forced into slumber."
Bowen felt a jolt of panic. "What? Running out? How? Can't we recharge it somehow?"
Liang's gaze softened. "There is a way, but it's not easy. The amulet needs spirit stones—rare and precious objects that contain condensed energy. Without them, I'll eventually fade away until the energy is replenished."
"Spirit stones?" Bowen repeated, confusion mixing with fear. "Where would I even find something like that? Do they even exist here?"
"They do," Liang said. "They're rare, hidden in places few dare to look. But you won't have to worry about them just yet. I still have enough energy to do one last thing before I go into slumber."
"What's that?" Bowen asked, his voice shaking.
Liang straightened, his presence becoming more imposing despite the flickering mist. "I'll impart to you all the critical knowledge I can before I leave. The things that will set you on the path to success, even without my guidance. But you must listen carefully and trust in yourself. Once I'm gone, it will be up to you to carry on."
Bowen's chest tightened. "You're really leaving? But you've been my guide through all of this. I don't know if I can do it without you."
"You can," Liang said firmly. "You've already proven that you can take what I've taught you and make it your own. This isn't the end, Bowen. Think of it as a temporary separation. Once you find the spirit stones, I'll return. Until then, you'll have to rely on your own ingenuity and determination."
Bowen clenched his fists. "But how will I even know where to start looking for these spirit stones?"
Liang's smirk returned, faint but reassuring. "The world has a way of revealing its treasures to those who seek them with purpose. You've already begun your journey—keep moving forward, and the answers will come."
The mist began to swirl faster, its glow dimming as Liang placed a hand on Bowen's shoulder. "Now, brace yourself. This will be the last time for a while that I can share what I know. I'll give you everything I can."
Before Bowen could respond, a surge of energy coursed through him, filling his mind with a flood of information. Business strategies, market trends, creative ideas, and countless other fragments of knowledge from Liang's time poured into him like a roaring river.
When it was over, Bowen staggered, clutching his head. "It's... so much..."
"It's everything you'll need to thrive," Liang said, his voice already growing fainter. "Now, it's up to you. Don't squander this gift, Bowen. You're destined for greatness."
The mist began to dissipate, and Liang's figure faded with it.
"Liang!" Bowen called out, desperation clawing at his voice.
But the dreamscape dissolved into darkness, and Bowen woke up in his bed, drenched in sweat. The jade amulet sat on the bedside table, its once-bright green surface dull and lifeless.
Bowen picked it up, gripping it tightly. "I'll find the spirit stones," he whispered, his voice resolute. "I'll bring you back. But until then, I'll make you proud."
With Liang's final words echoing in his mind, Bowen resolved to push forward, armed with the knowledge imparted to him and a renewed determination to succeed. But the reality was way different.
The day after Liang's departure, Fang Bowen found himself at a loss. His tiny apartment, usually a haven of creative energy and late-night brainstorming, felt hollow. The jade amulet lay lifeless on his bedside table, a constant reminder of the void left behind.
He tried to distract himself—turning on the TV, scrolling through social media, and even flipping through a few books—but nothing held his attention. His thoughts kept circling back to Liang's farewell and the weight of his parting words.
By afternoon, Bowen gave up entirely, retreating to his bed and staring at the ceiling. The bustling city outside seemed indifferent to his turmoil, its noise muffled as if mocking his stillness.
As the evening set in, Bowen's phone buzzed. He ignored it at first, assuming it was a spam call or a promotional text. But when it buzzed again, and again, he finally reached over and glanced at the screen.
It was Zhang Lin.
He hesitated before answering. "Hello?"
"Fang Bowen! I saw your book online!" her voice was bright, brimming with excitement. "Congratulations! It's amazing how well it's doing. You're practically famous now."
Bowen managed a weak chuckle. "Thanks, Zhang Lin. That means a lot coming from you."
There was a pause on the other end. Then, her tone softened. "Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself."
Bowen pressed his lips together, unsure of how to respond. How could he explain the loss of a mentor no one else could even comprehend? After a long silence, Zhang Lin's voice came again, gentle but insistent.
"Come out," she said. "Let's go for a drink."
He blinked, surprised. "What? I don't—"
"No excuses. You need to clear your head," she interrupted. "I'll text you the address. Meet me there in half an hour."
The line went dead before he could protest.
Bowen shuffled into the small bar Zhang Lin had chosen, his nerves a jumble. He spotted her immediately, sitting at a corner table with two glasses already on the table. She waved him over with a smile, her usual professional demeanor replaced by a more relaxed air.
"I thought you weren't the drinking type," Bowen said as he sat down.
"I'm not," she admitted, sliding a glass toward him. "But tonight feels like an exception. You look like you need it more than I do."
Bowen took a hesitant sip, the alcohol warming his throat. For the first few minutes, they exchanged light conversation—work anecdotes, her favorite books, and his newfound experience with fame.
But Zhang Lin wasn't one to be easily distracted. "So, what's really bothering you?" she asked, her eyes fixed on him.
Bowen stared at his glass, swirling the liquid inside. The words stuck in his throat, too strange to share outright. Finally, after a long pause, he said vaguely, "My mentor… he had to leave. To a faraway place. And I don't think we'll meet again."
Zhang Lin tilted her head, studying him. "This mentor of yours… he must've been important to you."
"He was," Bowen said softly. "He taught me so much, helped me see the world in a way I never did before. And now, I don't know if I can manage without him."
Zhang Lin leaned back, a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, if he's as wise as you say, then I'm sure he wouldn't want to see you like this."
Bowen looked up at her, startled.
"People like your mentor don't come into your life to hold your hand forever," she continued. "They show you the path, but it's up to you to keep walking it. You've already proven that you can succeed, Bowen. Don't let his absence make you forget that."
Her words hit him with a force he hadn't expected. He sat silently for a moment, processing them. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and hugged her.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick.
Zhang Lin froze in surprise but quickly relaxed, patting him on the back. "Okay, okay. You're welcome. I'll chalk this up to the alcohol talking."
They broke apart, and Bowen laughed sheepishly, his spirits already feeling lighter.
The next morning, Bowen woke with a throbbing headache. Groaning, he stumbled to the kitchen for a glass of water, flashes of the previous night coming back to him in embarrassing detail.
He cringed as he remembered hugging Zhang Lin, his face heating up. "What was I thinking?" he muttered, rubbing his temples.
But as the day went on, he couldn't deny that he felt better. Zhang Lin's words had struck a chord, reigniting the determination he thought he'd lost.
"I'll keep walking the path," Bowen whispered to himself, glancing at the jade amulet on his desk. "For Liang. For myself."
With renewed vigor, he sat down at his desk and began to plan his next steps.