When he finally woke from that deep, buzzing thunder, he suddenly realized—when had he gotten out of bed?

He was standing on the ground—no, to be precise, he was floating above it, hovering lightly, his feet about a foot off the floor. Henry Stone was startled. He turned to look and saw that he was still lying in bed!

Henry Stone's first reaction was that his soul had been sucked out by a mountain ghost. In a panic, he threw himself back into his body. To his surprise, nothing happened—he slipped back in smoothly and safely.

The room was utterly silent; he could hear his father's snores from the next room. Henry Stone was drenched in cold sweat.

He waited for a while, but the terrifying "mountain ghost" the adults always talked about never appeared. Feeling puzzled, he focused his mind—and discovered that he had once again left his body.

Chapter 2: Embracing Stone, Battling Beasts (Part 1)

Feeling a bit lost, Henry Stone looked around, completely unable to figure out what was happening.

He tried taking a few steps and found that his "soul" was much more agile than his body—not only could he run and jump, but he could also fly! What child hasn't dreamed of flying like a bird? With a youthful heart, Henry Stone's initial fear was quickly replaced by excitement. He happily bounced and leapt around the open space in front of his house, jumping over ten meters high at a time, making even the two houses at home seem small.

Henry Stone jumped onto a big tree and looked around. The mountain village lay nestled in a flat valley, shrouded in darkness, not a single light in sight. Strange sounds echoed now and then from the surrounding peaks.

In the past, Henry Stone would have been terrified of these noises, but now he felt an indescribable thrill, as if those sounds were constantly tempting him by his ear. Growing bolder, Henry Stone figured that even if there was danger, with his current speed, he could always escape.

He had seen the fastest wolves in the mountains, and Henry Stone dared to bet that his soul's speed was several times faster than that wolf.

With newfound courage, Henry Stone soared from the treetop, easily gliding several hundred meters to land on another big tree. With a few more leaps, he dove into the forest like a hawk.

The earth was tranquil, the wilds asleep. Under the embrace of darkness, all kinds of beasts and insects moved freely in their own world. Henry Stone swept over their heads like a gust of wind, the feeling exhilarating beyond words.

He saw a monkey with big eyes, about the size of a housecat, hunting grasshoppers; he saw a huge colony of ants, each the size of a soybean, building their nest into a chimney taller than a person; he saw two newborn cheetahs playing under a tree; he saw a family of white birds, necks tucked and eyes squinting, lined up on a branch...

The eastern sky began to pale, and Henry Stone suddenly felt a pressure. Before he could figure it out, the sun leapt up with a thud, and at once a vast, overwhelming force surged between heaven and earth, irresistibly pushing him back.

Whoosh—

The scenery of the forest sped away behind him, a wave of excruciating pain hit, and he felt as if his soul was about to be torn apart. In an instant, he snapped his eyes open and found himself back in his body.

Henry Stone was a bit confused. Everything that happened at night felt like a dream, unreal, as if it had happened to someone else. Recalling that fascinating experience from within his body was like listening to someone tell him a story.

What puzzled him was that, despite not sleeping all night—his soul hadn't slept—he felt especially energetic, as if his body was filled with endless strength.

However, whenever he tried to recall that dream, a terrible pain would stab deep in his mind, just like the agony of being yanked back into his body when the sun rose.

Henry Stone spent the whole day preoccupied, unable to figure out what was going on. When his parents and younger sister asked, he brushed them off, just wanting to wait for nightfall to see if he really was dreaming.

That day dragged on especially slowly. Finally, when the sun set, Henry Stone hurriedly shoveled down a few bites of food and collapsed onto his bed.

All was silent. With a whoosh, Henry Stone sat up from the bed. Looking back, he saw his body sleeping quietly. He couldn't help but smile.

……

In a flash, three years passed, and Henry Stone was now fifteen. At this age, he was already considered an old bachelor in the mountains, and his father had been busy lately trying to arrange a marriage for him.

In three years, Henry Stone had grown to nearly his father's height, with a well-proportioned build. The hard work in the mountains had given him bronzed skin. But for some reason, beneath his skin there seemed to be a jade-like luster, giving this mountain-raised boy a rugged beauty with a touch of refinement.

However, his well-proportioned figure didn't look particularly powerful. In the words of the mountain folk, he wasn't much of a laborer. Now, Henry Stone had clearly become what the villagers called a "decorative pillow"—all looks, no strength. This troubled his father, because in the mountains, looks didn't matter; what mattered for a man was being able to work the fields.