It Is Said That I Have Been Crushed By Dimensionality Reduction (Quick Travel) - Chapter 15

Lin Cuiniang and Zhao Ping’an led Liu Ermei and her daughter quietly away from the village.

As their figures disappeared into the distance, the villagers finally snapped out of their stunned daze. They stared after the child’s small frame, hearts filled with fear and reverence.

Someone whispered in disbelief, “He really pulled them into the lake… just like in the dream.”

The Zhao family trio—Bajin, his wife, and his mother—were still frozen in shock. But hearing the word “lake” again triggered something deep. They broke down, flailing and crying out like lunatics, pleading, “We were wrong! Please, don’t let us drown again—”

It was the middle of the day, but the sight of them was chilling.

The other villagers shivered. Some grabbed their own children, scolding in hushed tones, “You hear me? Don’t ever talk badly about Brother Yuan or his little sister again!”

Children that young didn’t know what fear meant—until now. Terrified, they nodded, too scared to cry.

Not far away, a few older villagers turned pale. They couldn’t help but curse under their breath.

Zhao Bajin’s family had only been trapped in that nightmare for the time it takes to finish a cup of tea—and already they were this broken.

Just think: that stubborn old woman had been ready to die rather than let Liu Ermei go.

And now?

Tonight, all of them—everyone involved—would be pulled back into the dream world. Again. And again. Drowning until dawn.

And the dreams would haunt them for life.

A particularly fragile man snapped. He dropped to his knees, yanking at his hair as he sobbed, “I was just watching! I didn’t mean any harm to Brother Yuan. Why am I being punished too? I’m sorry—I really didn’t know!”

He was speaking from the heart. But the world around him remained silent.

It was as if the Monster King didn’t even care to answer.

Just watched.

Unforgiving.

The others who saw this felt their last bit of hope disappear.

If only they’d known it would come to this…

At the Mountain’s Foot

Once they were away from the village, Liu Ermei and her daughter finally relaxed. They bowed in deep gratitude again.

Lin Cuiniang poured them a warm cup of tea and quietly pulled five hundred taels of silver from her clothes.

“Here,” she said gently. “Keep it close.”

Liu Ermei’s eyes widened. She guessed this money came from selling the pigs and perhaps a few of their old recipes. She immediately tried to refuse.

“This is too much.”

Lin Cuiniang smiled and shook her head. “It may seem like a lot, but for us, it’s manageable. For you and your child, it’s a fresh start.”

Still, Liu Ermei hesitated. She had thought of borrowing some money, yes—but this much? She couldn’t accept it. It felt like a debt she could never repay.

Just then, Bai Yuan looked at her and quietly said, “Take it.”

There was no force in his voice—but something in his presence made refusal impossible.

Liu Ermei clutched the money with trembling hands, overwhelmed.

“Thank you. Thank you so much…”

Lin Cuiniang then asked what her plans were. She offered ideas—maybe they could buy a small plot of land nearby. After what happened, surely Madam Wu wouldn’t dare cause more trouble.

But Liu Ermei sighed. “I… haven’t figured it out yet.”

Even if the Zhao family didn’t dare approach them again, her daughter was still Zhao Bajin’s child. If they stayed in the village, gossip might follow them both forever.

And if they moved to town? A single mother and child would face all sorts of trouble, not to mention danger.

Lin Cuiniang understood completely and let out a worried sigh.

That’s when Bai Yuan spoke again: “We’ll be leaving the village soon. The outside world is about to become dangerous—but if you stay with me, you’ll be safe.”

The others blinked, caught off guard by his certainty.

He tilted his head and asked calmly, “Is that a problem?”

No one dared say no.

Lin Cuiniang quickly prepared a separate room so Liu Ermei and her daughter could stay with them for now.

That Night

The whole village lay restless.

No one could sleep.

Everyone who had insulted or turned against Brother Yuan earlier in the day lay with pounding hearts—some whispering apologies, some too scared to even shut their eyes.

But when the moon climbed high into the sky, the mysterious energy hidden within the tree activated once again.

Like the night before, it dragged all of them—one by one—into a dream realm of cold terror.

This time, there was no mercy.

Bai Yuan could feel the power surging, drawn by the fear and regret. He didn’t sleep. Instead, he sat cross-legged, eyes closed, deep in learning.

The system had already scanned all the books his mother had brought back.

Bai Yuan absorbed knowledge like a sponge. But the night was long, so the system also began teaching him about monsters, spirits, and gods from across different realms.

By the time dawn painted the sky, Bai Yuan had imagined over a dozen new spirit forms—each with unique abilities. He connected these ideas to the stored energy mass, shaping it into something new.

When floods came and rains poured, his water-demon creations would rise.

And at that moment—he would appear as their savior.

This strategy served many purposes:

• • It earned him faith and awe from the villagers.

• • It allowed him to feed off their emotional energy.

• • And it gave him a reason to be reported to the county early, planting seeds for future influence.

Yes, the plan was a little rough—but it didn’t matter.

When the power he wielded looked so real, no one would dare question it.

The Next Morning

Bai Yuan yawned as he woke, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Lin Cuiniang urged him gently, “Sleep a bit longer, you must be tired.”

But he shook his head, already getting dressed.

Outside, Zhao Xiaomei had risen early to help with chores, while her little sister sat quietly nearby. When Bai Yuan stepped outside, the little one’s eyes sparkled, wanting to approach but too shy.

He walked over and handed her some treats from yesterday. “Want some?”

She looked up at her mother.

Lin Cuiniang laughed. “Eat it, or it’ll go bad!”

Liu Ermei nodded gently. “Go ahead—but remember to say thank you.”

Elsewhere: Rumors Begin

Meanwhile, back in town, the restaurant staff couldn’t stop whispering.

“Strange… I feel great today.”

“Me too! My neck and arms usually ache, but not today.”

“I thought it was just me!”

At first, it seemed like coincidence.

But when everyone said the same thing—something felt off.

Even the restaurant owner, known for his constant migraines, felt better. And he hadn’t taken a single pill.

They racked their brains.

The only thing they all shared?

The meat from Lin Cuiniang’s kitchen.

But she wasn’t a healer, just a cook. Her food wasn’t medicinal.

Then the steward remembered: the pork they’d used had come from a massive boar—oddly clean, no strange smell, and unlike anything they’d butchered before.

He blurted out, “What if it’s the meat that’s magical?”

The owner’s heart skipped a beat.

He rushed to investigate. The steward returned quickly, wide-eyed.

“Well?” the owner demanded.

“It’s true,” the steward whispered. “Every single person who ate that pork feels better—aches gone, energy back. There’s even a bedridden old woman who drank the broth… and stood up this morning.”

The owner’s jaw dropped.

This wasn’t some coincidence. This pork was special.

More people had come to the restaurant asking for more, hoping to buy extra. But the steward had blocked them—no way were they selling this casually now.

If word spread, powerful people would come sniffing around. And when they found out who sold it…

Lin Cuiniang and Zhao Ping’an might be in danger.

The steward looked anxious.

The owner nodded, then gave his orders. “Send trusted people to the nearby villages. Find out who Lin Cuiniang and Zhao Ping’an really are. Let them know we mean no harm—we’re grateful.”

“And the meat?” the steward asked.

“Sell off any leftovers from today. I’m taking the rest of that boar meat home with me.”

They had to keep this quiet.

But secrets like this never stay buried.

Soon, word got out—whispers about how that pork cured all kinds of small illnesses. People who hadn’t bought any were banging their heads in regret.

Some tried to buy leftover cuts at outrageous prices. Others refused to sell. Arguments broke out.

And during all this, another story emerged.

About a few gangsters who had been badly beaten—arms broken—and were now raving in fear about “monsters.”

Someone went to find them.

They were in a local clinic, wrapped in bandages, trembling like they’d seen ghosts.

When asked what happened, they told everything.

About a monster with glowing eyes, traveling with a couple.

About how it broke their bones without effort.

And when people connected that to the pork…

They began to wonder.

Was it possible?

Could monsters… really exist?