Mundo Estranho, mas Construindo um Pomar de Pêssegos

The sky was shrouded in gloom.

A suffocating weight filled the air.

The entire room was so dark it seemed to swallow everything.

Ye Lu opened his eyes and gazed upward. Coarse stalks of straw lined the roof, supported by rough-hewn beams—the whole structure so crude that, compared to the sheer volume of straw, he couldn’t help but worry the beams might buckle beneath it all. The thought came to him unbidden. Then, almost reflexively, he lifted his arm and stretched out his hand. In the gloom, he could see the lines etched in his palms with perfect clarity.

Had he… lived another life?

Ye Lu felt momentarily adrift.

Almost disbelieving, he glanced down at his hands once more, flexed his fingers, and watched as both hands responded, moving gently in the dimness.

So it was true—he had lived through two lifetimes now.

All he remembered was completing his mission in the simulation. He had worn down the ghost that stole the sacred lamp oil until it was nearly destroyed, finally allowing himself to relax—perhaps too soon. Maybe, in its utter desperation, the suppressed spirit managed one final act of vengeance, determined to drag all three of them to their doom.

In the next instant, Ye Lu recalled the reckless way Xi Mingren had toyed with the ghost, baiting it like a cat with a mouse. He almost regretted not stopping that lunatic from ripping into the creature.

Wait—where were Xi Mingren and Gui Shusheng?

The memory of his two hapless companions came rushing back. The three of them had been ambushed during transi