Chapter Thirty-Nine: You Could Become a Leopard Spirit

At night, the white leopard raced wildly through the streets.

As a druid, it knew that if it could reach a location outside the city—any place within the dream realm that Lin Lei had not yet altered—it would find a way to escape. The leopard fixed its gaze in a certain direction, running faster and faster. After half an hour, however, it found itself lost within the city.

“No, impossible… How could I get lost?” it muttered.

The leopard gazed about in confusion. The dazzling lights blocked its view of the stars, making it impossible to find its bearings. Though it understood the dreamscape intimately, this city was entirely foreign. Everything was unfamiliar; many streets looked alike, which severely disoriented it.

“It’s all fake; none of this is real!” it insisted, trying to avoid anything that might draw attention. These unknown things were like devils, tempting it to investigate, to understand.

With a clatter, it accidentally knocked over a two-wheeled object. Startled, the leopard darted away. After a moment, it crept back, curiosity overcoming its caution. “What is this?”

This exquisitely crafted thing appeared to be a tool for movement. Compared to the four-wheeled vehicles lining the street, it was much simpler and should be easier to comprehend.

“That’s right—if I can find a flaw, I’ll prove this world is fake!” The leopard was struck by a sudden inspiration. It couldn’t understand the workings of the four-wheeled things, but perhaps it could decipher the two-wheeled one, though it seemed a little complex.

The leopard circled the object several times, scrutinizing every aspect of its design. Yet, after a long while, it couldn’t find a single fault.

Some of the finely made small components eluded its understanding, but it grasped the main structure. The thing was constructed with perfect logic; it was impossible that Lin Lei had conjured it from nothing.

On the way to the Elven Kingdom, the leopard had passed through many countries and seen the craftsmanship of dwarves and gnomes. They could create technologies that soared through the sky, but none of them had achieved such intricate design.

“This truly is the creation of another civilization…” The leopard was shaken. Looking up at the towering buildings, it felt a surge of fear—if a race could create all these things through intellect alone, how magnificent must their civilization be?

A species with such a civilization, perhaps, could destroy the world using only the things they invented.

“…I must not waver. I cannot!” Seeking to dispel its doubts, the leopard turned its gaze toward a bakery at the roadside. Earlier, it had noticed the bread within. The loaves came in many forms, most of which it had never seen before.

“Even if the wheels fooled me, these breads surely cannot.” The leopard reasoned to itself. It knew everything in the dreamscape stemmed from Lin Lei’s imagination, which was drawn from memory and invention. If the food was from memory, its taste would match those of the multiverse Lin Lei dreamed of.

The maids had once said Lin Lei’s dreams were not mere fantasies, but true legacies—he knew the flavors of foods from across the multiverse.

“There are so many foods here. If they’re invented, there must be repetition in taste.” Muttering to itself, the leopard stepped into the bakery, intent on testing its theory. Of course, it was absolutely not driven by greed.

Meanwhile, Lin Lei and Lin Wen had come out to look for the leopard.

“Xiao Bai runs too fast.” Lin Lei glanced around. The bite wound on his hand had already healed—naturally, for this was a dream; a mere thought and he was whole.

Compared to Lin Lei, Lin Wen was less interested in searching for the leopard. He lifted the hood of a car. “Lin Lei, how does this thing work?”

“How should I know? I’m not a science major.” Lin Lei shot him a look. Lin Wen noticed that under the hood there were only vague shapes resembling an engine, nothing concrete. Clearly, Lin Lei didn’t really understand this machine.

But that didn’t stop Lin Lei from using it. As long as he believed the car could run, it would move as it did in his memories.

“If I were a scientist, I’d have led you all to technological greatness by now,” Lin Lei grumbled. It was one of his great regrets.

“Wait, we can drive!” Lin Lei realized a good way to chase the leopard. He pulled Lin Wen into the car, conjured a set of keys, and handed them over.

“Seatbelt on,” he instructed. Lin Wen, astonished by the car’s interior, had no idea what a seatbelt was.

The décor was exactly as Lin Lei remembered. Lin Wen’s confusion was understandable, but Lin Lei paid him no mind. He pressed the accelerator and sped off.

“Waaaah!” Lin Wen, riding in a car for the first time, let out a startled yelp. Lin Lei beamed with delight—so his kingly brother could scream too. Hmm… maybe he’d let him experience motion sickness while he was at it.

Half an hour later, Lin Lei, exhilarated after his drive, found the leopard. It was sprawled at a smokeless barbecue stall, devouring meat, so absorbed in eating it didn’t notice their arrival.

“Mmm, delicious, this is so good!”

“I feel like I’ve wasted my life!”

Lin Lei couldn’t help himself: “Xiao Bai, aren’t you a vegetarian?”

The leopard, a chicken leg clamped in its jaws, glanced back at him, then at Lin Wen, who was vomiting by the roadside. Swallowing the chicken leg, it replied, “Can’t I indulge a little in a dream?”

Unburdened by hunger, it had eaten a great deal in the past half hour, its thoughts having changed completely.

The leopard was now convinced that everything in Lin Lei’s dreamscape came from his memories—no one could invent so many delicious foods. “Those who live in that civilization are truly blessed.”

It looked at Lin Lei, eyes suddenly serious.

“Little master, do you, like other forest elves, want to destroy this world?”

“No, I’ve never thought of that.” Lin Lei was surprised by such a profound question from his pet. Stroking his chin, he added, “But I’m definitely leaving this planet.”

After history lessons, Lin Lei had realized a major issue—this planet was far too dangerous!

What kind of naive mind had thought to keep demons out with a protective barrier? Lin Lei had a strong premonition that this world was doomed, and he needed to flee as soon as possible.

The leopard, unaware of his thoughts, pressed on, “Do you want to go to the civilization where this city exists?”

“If I can, of course I do,” Lin Lei nodded. After all, that place was half his home—how could he not return?

“How long will it take you to get there?”

“Hmm… at least a few hundred years, maybe even thousands…” Lin Lei replied. He knew it would not be an easy journey, but considering how humanity had gone from the Industrial Revolution to the cosmos in a few centuries, thousands of years should suffice.

The leopard seemed ready to question further. “Forest elves have short lifespans. Can you really live that long?”

“I can, I’ll definitely live that long.” Lin Lei grinned, not doubting himself for a moment. He was full of confidence in his lifespan—this was a fantasy world, after all; anything was possible.

This boundless confidence had always been Lin Lei’s trademark. Ever since the leopard had known him, he had never seen Lin Lei lose faith.

So that was it…

The leopard suddenly understood why Lin Wen had yielded the throne to Lin Lei—perhaps he’d had no choice. Lin Lei was the very embodiment of the forest elves’ pioneering spirit.

This somewhat mischievous, utterly unconstrained, ever-laughing and cursing child possessed something others lacked—a powerful optimism and unwavering confidence.

“If you behave, I’ll take you all as my guests. Xiao Bai, you’ll come with me too!” Lin Lei suddenly invited.

The leopard was stunned. “Do you really think I could survive leaving this planet?”

Was Lin Lei too optimistic?

“Of course. Just practice cultivation with me,” Lin Lei said. “You could become a leopard spirit—I’ve even thought of your nickname: the Lord of the Southern Hills!”

“…I don’t know what Lord of the Southern Hills means, but I absolutely refuse to be called that.” The leopard snorted, but did not reject Lin Lei’s invitation.

As it had feared, its views had changed. But perhaps it wasn’t so much a change as a growth—its vision had become immeasurably broadened.

Just as a child grows into a young woman, the leopard had lost its old convictions but gained new, distant dreams.

“Well, since I’m already here… I might as well follow him.” The leopard comforted itself. It would be a loyal lady, not a wandering beast.