In the white smoke, a vague figure of an old man with a white beard appeared. He sat on a lotus throne with a leisurely and composed posture, like an old man fishing in an ancient painting. He twirled his beard, "I once sat by the water, contemplating dreamily, and became a butterfly, fluttering comfortably, not knowing who or what Zhuang Zhou was. Thus, I wondered whether it was Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly or the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou. Since you wish to enter others' dreams, let this butterfly guide you."
As his words fell, the entire person instantly vanished, countless butterflies took off from him, fluttering about like a dream, like an illusion.
Yun Qi instinctively reached out her hand, but innumerable butterflies slipped through her fingers, like water in a bottle, or sand in the palm. As she was bewildered, she saw a butterfly gracefully fly out from behind her and alight on her palm.
