Xu Aiyuan approached with the grace of a willow swaying in the breeze. She smoothed the loosened gap in the sheet with her hand and let out a soft chuckle:
–It’s all right—probably just a thread coming loose. I made this not long after I first learned needlework. I should have mended it ages ago. Master Zicang, please don’t mock my handiwork.-
The girl outside shook her head and pouted. –You two chat. I’ll go get the hangover soup for the one who pulled the sheet.-
Yang Zicang sighed, left with no choice but to swallow this unspoken grievance.
After she left, Xu Aiyuan covered her mouth with her hand and chuckled. –Last night, Mr. Zicang mentioned he wanted to discuss business, so I had them let you stay. Everyone had quite a lot to drink, and I was also worried you might run into danger on the way home.-
–Thank you for your kindness.-
Morri and Popoli seemed to trust this woman quite a bit—Yang Zicang couldn’t help but complain inwardly. But then he recalled the previous night: how the lady beside him had unhesitatingly sacrificed herself to prevent that little reporter, disguised as a bandaged doctor, from using her to threaten the others. Yang Zicang’s emotions churned in complex turmoil. Such a decisive act—he himself could never have pulled it off.
Xu Aiyuan sat down by the bedside, her gaze fixed on Yang Zicang’s face.
–Nowadays, countless people are watching you from the shadows. One false step could spell utter ruin. From now on, except at… you’d better cut down on drinking.-
Yang Zicang’s hand unconsciously tightened the quilt around him.
–Thank you.- He lowered his head, then added, –By the way.- Yang Zicang lifted his head again. –You must have passed the test for the Lost Illusion Company, right? Did you receive an invitation?-
Xu Aiyuan nodded.
–Both the Starlight Illusion and the Candle Curtain Illusion have sent me special invitations.-
A glimmer lit up in Yang Zicang’s eyes.
–That’s great. Once you join the Lost Illusion Company, you won’t have to live in such dangerous places anymore.-
–You seem to know quite a bit. Mr. Zicang, are you planning to go to the Lost Illusion Company? Ah, I’m just asking casually.-
–The Starlight Illusion gave me an invitation. Miss Aiyuan, which Lost Illusion Company do you plan to join?-
Xu Aiyuan’s gaze shifted to the doorway. The hallway outside was silent, but she could faintly hear voices from the crowd farther away, along with the occasional laughter of girls.
–I’m not going anywhere.-
Yang Zicang was taken aback for a moment, then released his tight grip on the quilt.
Before long, Yang Zicang left behind a few of his remaining power-leveling contracts, preparing to depart.
The gentle gaze of the beauty by the bedside fell upon the –Power-Leveling Contract- that Yang Zicang had gifted her. It was a contract containing three secret techniques: –Lucid Sense,- –Thousand-Fist Art,- and –Chime Night.-
Once mastered, one could become a formidable martial artist in a matter of days.
–This fist technique can instantly unleash countless fist shadows, giving you strong close-range offense and defense even without a weapon. Its main use is to grant you the keen senses of a martial arts master—anyone who gets near can be subdued in an instant.-
Yang Zicang said, –Consider this compensation for last time’s rudeness and last night’s drinks… Well, just use it yourself, and whatever you do, don’t sell it.-
–Then I’ll accept it with thanks.- Xu Aiyuan looked at him with a cheerful smile. –Thank you for the gift, Captain of the A-Grade Team.-
Yang Zicang hurriedly wanted to leave, as if trying to escape the place.
The woman sitting by the bed gazed at the tall, lean figure that had already taken two steps toward the door.
–Please wait a moment.-
The young man turned around.
She raised her arm toward Yang Zicang and slowly opened her pale, fair fist.
As if extending an invitation…
Yang Zicang’s heart pounded twice before he realized that on the gradually opened palm lay a piece of his own crafted treasure—a Wuhua Tianbao.
–Are you giving it back?-
–In your dreams. But… can you help me store more Chronos in it? I’ll treat it as… my lucky charm.-
–I, I’ll exchange it for a new one for you.-
Yang Zicang took out a coin that emitted a faint glow and walked up to the woman.
The woman looked up at him with her chin slightly raised, a gentle smile in her eyes.
Yang Zicang’s gaze trailed down the pale whiteness of her neck. The hand holding the coin gently covered her palm, and a moist, smooth sensation shot from his palm to his heart like a numbing electric current.
Their eyes met, and Yang Zicang’s heart fluttered slightly, yet a shadow of gloom lingered.
–I am destined to leave,- said Yang Zicang.
–Don’t misunderstand. Being liked by people is just a part of my ability—this isn’t real love. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.-
A gust of wind whistled, and a train appeared behind Yang Zicang in an instant. The silk scarf drifted to his side on its own, then dissolved into wind and disappeared.
Li Sumei arrived at the doorway with a bowl of hangover soup, just in time to see Yang Zicang’s back as he walked away, head bowed, from the other end of the corridor.
–Hey! Blanket-grabber!- she called out, hurrying after him with the hangover soup.
When she rounded the main corridor and reached the front of the hall, she saw the young figure outside fling the silk scarf in his hand, which transformed into a large blanket. He leaped into it, and the giant blanket rode the wind, soaring upward in an instant, shrinking to a black dot before vanishing into the sky.
Xu Aiyuan, dressed in pajamas and a thin jacket, walked to the front of the hall and looked toward the distant gray sky, where nothing was left.
The wind from the wilderness pressed her clothes tightly against her curves. For a long time, her chin remained lifted, never lowering.
Li Sumei turned her head and said with displeasure:
–Big Sister, I think you should make a decision this time. You don’t like so many people, and you wouldn’t even accept a powerful, not-ugly guy like Evil Thought Blade. Now heaven has sent you Yang Zicang. There will hardly be another one in the future.-
Xu Aiyuan’s clear eyes held a trace of bewilderment.
……
Two days later, having arranged everything, Yang Zicang boarded the ghostly Big Star train as it shuttled through the gray fog. The invitation emitted a guiding light, leading little Matt Chao through the hazy, endless mist.
{This fog makes me afraid.}
The Big Star, little Matt Chao, rarely took the initiative to speak about his feelings.
Yang Zicang glanced at the eerie train. –You’re actually afraid? Even in your state?-
{You… you’re not afraid? Why?}
–Because I have you.- Yang Zicang said teasingly.
Then he picked up an old, worn-out magazine from a shelf beside him.
Even though this Big Star special train, protected by the Hub Towns, was not fully under the command of the officials of the two towns—requiring endless pleading and promises of benefits every time they boarded—they still placed items inside to provide entertainment.
Like these magazines, and the expensive liquor beneath the magazine basket.
{Ah, right—and Little White Shadow. Little White Shadow isn’t afraid either.}
The train muttered as it moved forward.
That said, Yang Zicang still periodically glanced up at the terrifying energies outside, which seemed capable of making even death itself vanish.
Suddenly, a solid shadow appeared outside the carriage.
–Slow down.-
Yang Zicang walked to the window, which had slowed considerably. In the depths of the fog, where left, right, up, and down were indistinguishable, a blurry outline lurked behind the haze—like a broken rock less than two meters wide.
As Yang Zicang focused on it, the shape suddenly twisted.
After staring for less than a second, his head felt as if it were about to explode from the pressure.
The –Special Invitation Letter- in his hand immediately manifested a sphere of light that enveloped him.
Wispy threads of cool air drifted within the light shield like spring rain, steadying Yang Zicang’s disoriented consciousness.
[Through the invitation letter, I know. I, the great Quadrilateral! My mental power level temporarily dropped by three minor stages just now.]
{So terrifying, run!}
Little Matt Chao let out a puff and darted into the deeper gray fog like a wisp of smoke, leaving the rock far behind, afraid it might give chase.
Yang Zicang lowered his head to look at the invitation letter in his hand.
Besides guiding the route, it had other functions—such as recording his test data, as if serving as his –interview letter.-
With a flicker of thought, the data contained within was revealed by the Moxel Halo.
[I, the great Quadrilateral, current mental strength is Second Ring, Third Grade. Recovery time is about two to three days.]
[Curse duration is half a day.]
–Curse?–
Yang Zicang frowned. He continued looking at the invitation, thinking to himself: –What about the other evaluation data?–
[My good-evil tendency is negative one. The peak tendency is positive three. The good-evil tendency fluctuates greatly, making it hard to give a fixed evaluation, but there is a hidden dangerous nature.]
[Imported journalist corps evaluation: Most of the time, he’s a nice guy with a mean streak. He won’t harm his close friends.]
–Negative one to positive three?–
Yang Zicang sensed it. This evaluation ranged from negative five to positive five, a total of ten points.
He subconsciously glanced at the gray mist outside and quickly averted his eyes. He must not see anything else again.
–Second Ring, Third Grade? So just by looking at that thing earlier, my mental strength dropped from Second Ring, Seventh Grade to this level?–
Yang Zicang checked his own mental state but didn’t find anything wrong.
–I wonder what the magnitude of difference is between each grade.–
Unable to figure it out, he stopped thinking. Not daring to look around any more, Yang Zicang sat back down, picked up a bottle of red wine, and used a corkscrew to pop the cork.
–It hurts so much.–
–What?–
Yang Zicang froze for a moment, looked left and right, as if he had heard something just now.
–Auditory hallucination?– He frowned. There was no other movement.
The young man shook his head, picked up a wine glass, and poured the wine with a gurgling sound.
–Ugh, I’m throwing up…-
Yang Zicang’s hand jerked, nearly dropping the bottle of red wine.
–Turned into Enightmare? No, it’s not Enightmare, just an ordinary wine bottle.-
He had just inspected the bottle in his right hand when another voice came from the left.
–This taste isn’t bad. Oh~ my support is so warm. Your hand holding it makes my temperature rise. Feels good.-
Smack!
Yang Zicang tossed the wine glass into the basket. He waited about ten seconds, but the two objects said nothing.
–Did you hear anything?- Yang Zicang shouted up at the compartment.
{I heard you. You’re talking. You said you were throwing up, and that it’s warm and feels good.}
–Sigh…- Yang Zicang clutched his head with both hands.
Nearly a day later, the train, moving in fits and starts, finally spotted a patch of chaotic land ahead.
The barren, undulating landscape warped left and right like converging electric waves, giving it an unreal appearance.
{Finally here! With you here, maybe I can just come directly in the future, without going through that thing.}
–I’m afraid not.-
The young man cautiously stepped onto the ground—illusory and unreal, yet solidly supporting rocks and gravel.
In the distance, a sphere composed of buildings and objects of various bizarre styles floated at the edge of the continent.
This place felt like the end of the world.
Yang Zicang glanced at the train:
–Go back now. Thank you for your company these days. In the future, I hope you can help my friends more on that side. Also, although there is protection, still be careful of villains.-
{Don’t worry, I’m smarter than you. Come back soon; it’s a bit uncomfortable here.}
After saying this, Little Matt Chao let out a –woo- and dove into the void, transforming into psychic power and vanishing.
Yang Zicang smiled. He turned his head and saw several people with slightly more refined features than ordinary people appearing ahead on the ground.
–The Lost Illusion Company welcomes your arrival.-
Those people smiled at him. A person in a tight suit, with a face like a fairy, stepped out and briefly shook hands with Yang Zicang.
–Glad to meet you all.-
Yang Zicang lowered his hand and looked up. It seemed like the afterimage of a bird streaked across the sky, stirring up a gust of wind in the much thinner gray mist.
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