The biting cold wind was like countless knives, hitting Fu Cheng's face painfully. He was huddled in the corner of the ruined temple. The jacket that was still intact had been scratched into tatters and could not withstand the chill of the late autumn. His stomach was empty, and the grunting sounds were particularly clear in the silent ruined temple. Along with the waves of dizziness, he couldn't help but frown.
"Fuck, where is this?" Fu Cheng cursed in his mind. He remembered that he was testing a new ancient-style immersive game in the company. Because he worked overtime for three consecutive nights, he lost consciousness when his vision went dark. When I woke up again, I was in this hellish place - no high-rise buildings, no electronic equipment, no familiar colleagues and no takeaways, only ruined walls, weeds all over the ground, and a group of strangers wearing coarse linen clothes and fierce eyes.
What frustrated him the most was the language barrier. Those people were chattering words he had never heard before, and their gestures were very strange. He tried to communicate with them in Mandarin, but he received looks of confusion, vigilance, and even contempt. Once, he was extremely hungry and wanted to ask a farmer for some food. As soon as he asked, the farmer screamed and ran away as if he had seen a ghost. He also attracted several strong men with hoes and almost beat him.
From then on, Fu Cheng no longer dared to speak casually. He realized that in this strange world, silence might be the best way to protect himself. But even so, trouble still comes.
