The last thing Wu Daye remembered was the piles of imported facial masks in the warehouse. As the sales manager of the "Global Preferred" purchasing platform, she had just signed the biggest order of the year. She was facing the computer screen to calculate the commission, and her fingertips were tapping rapidly on the keyboard - the "ding" sound was not a payment reminder, but the box of gifts on the top shelf known as the "Millennium Ancient Glass Bottle" suddenly fell over. The moment the glass fragments splashed, the bright light swallowed up the entire warehouse.
When I opened my eyes again, what lingered on my nose was not the fragrance of cosmetics, but damp earth and a touch of sandalwood. Wu Daye sat up suddenly and found that she was lying in a patch of knee-high grass. The jacket with the words "Performance Changhong" printed on her body was covered with mud. In the distance, there was a blue-grey palace wall, and the cornices and corners outlined a simple outline in the dusk. It was definitely not any modern building she was familiar with.
"Hey! Which palace is that weird-looking guy over there? How dare you be lazy here?
