10 An Invitation on Sunday

After so many years as a Rememberer, Black Swan had never before had someone tamper with her memes. She wasn’t keen on silently enduring it; she wanted to reclaim her domain. Yet Rachel—the young lady standing before her—possessed an ability that was truly elusive and inscrutable.

Indeed, even a fool could tell that this lady’s power was activated through singing, and the specific nature of her ability depended entirely on the song she chose to sing.

But the problem lay in the strangeness of it all—could her ability be a form of rule-based power? That seemed unlikely, because even rule-based powers had limits.

To put it simply, as the Xianzhou Alliance once said: using four ounces to leverage a thousand pounds requires first having the strength of that thousand pounds. Only then can a light touch of four ounces produce such a staggering effect.

One must understand how immense the power needed to affect a Rememberer at the meme level is, especially enough to trouble a seasoned Rememberer like herself. And yet, this opponent appeared to have merely sung a casual line.

It was almost as if the situation with this "Sea Ranger" was repeating itself.

Recalling the memories she experienced within the self-proclaimed "Yellow Springs" ranger, Black Swan felt as though her entire meme structure was shattered into scattered fragments by the fleeting glint of a blade flickering between red, white, and black. Were it not for Pinoconi—the place rich in mnemonic energy that boosted Rememberers—and the fact that Yellow Springs had no intention of harming her, she might well have lost her life there.

Black Swan’s personality was not as mysteriously elegant as she appeared. She had quite a penchant for courting disaster; otherwise, she would have fled Pinoconi at top speed after touching Yellow Springs' memories and never returned.

She was eager to test her limits against Rachel, to see how far this uniquely gifted lady could push her. After all, she had already escaped from Yellow Springs' memories, which only increased her survival skills.

Yet, there were more pressing matters at hand.

She had long set her sights on the Star Rail, summoning her arrival—the navigator of that train, Miss Kiko.

Black Swan’s fascination with the Star Rail surpassed everything else, for these nameless travelers who roamed the galaxy carried the most extensive and vivid memories spanning the entire world.

In particular, she had heard that among these travelers were those who had confronted the Extinction Grand Lord Huanlong. As a collector of memories, Black Swan yearned for such experiences.

After all, she could request memories from the Star Rail’s travelers, but she couldn’t exactly visit the Xianzhou general and ask for the same memories, nor could she directly approach the Extinction Grand Lord Huanlong and say, “Hey darling, I want to see a particular memory; could you show it to me, pretty please?”

Taking a deep breath—though she didn’t really need to—she firmly committed this remarkable lady to memory, then turned, her scent trailing behind her as she left the rooftop.

Rachel smiled as she watched Black Swan’s figure fade away. Her smile slowly vanished with her, and she quickly turned, rushing down the stairs toward the Dreamweaver team’s base.

From afar, she spotted beside the elder Dreamweavers a familiar gentleman. Behind him hung a halo resembling thorns—solemn and dignified—with a metallic surface that caught the light of the Dreamweaver border, radiating a subtle, restrained nobility.

Perched on his shoulder was a bird whose feathers transitioned between black and purple, its long beak slightly hooked.

Also very familiar.

It was Sunday.

And also the Dream Master.

Or more precisely, his incarnation.

*

Rachel hadn’t expected to encounter him here, so even when Sunday announced to the Dreamweaver team that she would be loaned out for a while, she was still struggling to recover from the shock.

Of course, the Dreamweaver team would not refuse a request from Mr. Sunday, nor from the Dream Master himself.

Rachel easily secured three days of free time—though strictly speaking, she wasn’t certain, as she didn’t know the reason behind Sunday and the Dream Master’s visit. If they intended to conscript her as labor, she would have no choice but to comply.

*

Naturally, as long as she could get an internship stamp and a certificate, it was fine. After all, university students nowadays were the cheapest and most conscientious workforce, and she indeed needed multiple internships to bolster her resume.

Thinking about it, it was quite a tough situation.

Rachel followed Sunday a few steps forward and entered an autonomous convertible. They drove along a road lit like a ribbon of light, arriving at Oak Mansion—a place Rachel had never entered, or even approached.

The bird carrying the Dream Master’s consciousness flew away the moment Sunday got in. Sunday held his forehead, leaning his head against the window, remaining silent the entire way, making Rachel wonder if she had done something wrong until they reached their destination.

When she wanted to speak about stowaways or the Masked Fool, Sunday gestured gently for her to stay quiet.

…?

“Sorry,” Sunday said after getting out, unable to maintain his smile, his brow furrowed as if in discomfort. “I’m a bit car sick.”

He took a deep breath, and the halo behind him glowed softly. Rachel sensed faint musical vibrations: the Harmonious Star God Xipe herself was fond of music, and Rachel’s own powers—though she wasn’t sure if she had truly embarked on her destined path—were also connected to music. It seemed there was some link between these elements.

In short, Sunday was probably retuning himself.

After a moment, he recovered and, with a hint of apology, broke his silence: “I really can’t get used to Pinoconi’s cars; they’re too fast and the turns too sharp… Please, come in.”

*

Inside Oak Mansion was a vast, spacious office complex that made Rachel envious—conference rooms the size of apartments, and equally large polygonal offices—all belonging to Sunday, the current head of the Oak family.

No wonder some resented the rich, Rachel thought; she was beginning to feel that way herself.

Sunday dressed plainly, even modestly compared to Pinoconi’s usual style, yet he lived quite comfortably.

He invited her to sit and politely requested a family attendant to bring her tea. Then, leaning forward slightly, he began: “Miss Rachel, have you entered a strange dream? A dream beyond the twelve moments?”

Rachel had pondered what Sunday might ask during the car ride, and this question was already prepared for. She nodded without hesitation: “Yes, a dream that seemed dark and dangerous.”

Sunday asked, “Was it because of a Masked Fool?”

Rachel: “Yes. You already know.”

Sunday replied, “The Dream Master.”

“He is hindered for some reason, but those birds still watch over his beloved Pinoconi on his behalf,” Sunday said gently.

“He was enjoying the breeze from a high place at the Dreamweaver border when he saw you abandon your post and, out of curiosity, followed you.”

Rachel: “Ah…”

She said with some difficulty, “I didn’t mean to abandon my post…”

Sunday took the tea tray from the attendant and pushed it toward Rachel. “Rest assured, Miss, I know, and I won’t tell your Dreamweaver team. Secrecy is paramount, and with a cork on top.”

He made a quiet, unfunny joke, then continued.

“The Dream Master saw you dragging the Masked Fool into an even more dangerous dream while being sent there.”

“Rest assured, whether it’s her or the other two victims—I know one of them was a stowaway lady—I am aware of their pain and hope they can heal within this dream. I have already sent loyal and capable hounds to find them.”

“Your ability is very special, Miss. The Dream Master witnessed how you outwitted the Masked Fool, and I have seen you pull a misguided hound back onto the right path.”

Sunday’s fingers lightly traced the table, sliding like piano keys from index to ring finger, with the pinky pressing down firmly at the end.

A soft “thud” sounded.

“In Pinoconi, families are open, but everyone who covets Pinoconi lurks in the shadows. This is dangerous.”

Rachel understood: “You think I could be a covert helper for the family?”

Sunday said, “At least you have the ability, you’re involved in this matter, and you aren’t part of the family. Originally, I was quite willing to engage with the noble Star Rail, but the company’s envoys have also arrived in Pinoconi. I believe you’re aware of the history here—the company’s intentions are hostile, so I must devote my time and energy to them. Therefore, you are the most suitable candidate I could find. But before you make your choice, I want to explain the current situation. Please weigh it carefully, because although true death does not exist in dreams, other dangers beyond death do.”

He paused, giving Rachel a moment to react before continuing with a revelation that struck her like a petrifying spell.

“This year’s Harmonious Festival, unlike previous times, was not originally planned to invite outsiders to attend the ceremony. At least, the family did not issue such invitations.”

Sunday: “No matter who they are, whether their goal is to seize control of Pinoconi or to do something more dangerous—one thing is certain: they intend to stir the waters and fish in troubled waters.”

Rachel: “So you think those guests who were invited need to be controlled?”

If they were brought in to stir the waters, then restoring all these variables back to order should solve it, right?

Sunday paused, then said softly, “That might be too extreme. After all, they are guests of the family, even if the invitations weren’t originally issued by the family. Now, we have accepted them.”

Ah, so foreign guests must be treated more politely.

Sunday: “You and that unnamed guest lady share similar experiences. Perhaps you will get along well. From what I know, pioneers often face situations others rarely encounter.”

Rachel: “Just accompany them?”

Sunday: “I believe you have the ability to protect them from danger, Miss Rachel. At least, you should be able to shield them in the first few critical seconds. As for the rest—”

He handed her a plain ring. “Remember to seek the family’s help in time. Just tap the ring twice consecutively.”

Rachel took the ring: “Then I want a full scholarship from now until I graduate. Also, this counts as an internship, so it must be stamped.”

Sunday pinched the bridge of his nose, then couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Of course, Miss, that’s the payment I should provide—if you don’t think it’s too little. Additionally, you’ll have a hotel room at your disposal anytime until your graduation. Even if you’re a student at Origami University, it’s best not to stay immersed in dreams all the time. Returning to reality for rest is a good choice.”

Rachel put on the ring on the spot: “Alright, boss.”