Where the Flowing Clouds Take Root

Two glass marbles lay before him. He reached out and chose the green one.

When he opened his eyes again, he was on a battlefield in the Warring States period, two thousand years in the past. A boy in a school uniform stood among vast armies.

The Zhao soldiers thought he was an immortal. Bai Qi invited him into camp, and Ying Zheng treated him as an honored guest.

Only he knew the truth: he was just an out-of-place student from a senior high school classroom, clutching a dog-eared copy of Quantum Entanglement.

Everyone told him to keep moving forward.

His handwriting was carved into a cave. His symbols were left on a ruined city wall. The guardian of Hangu Pass had waited for him for forty-nine years.

But he couldn't remember ever being there.

“You are the forty-seventh person to make it this far.”

The first forty-six had all been named Zhou Xing.

They had all set out from the same afternoon.

None of them had returned.

This time, he would make it to the end.

On a page of the book in his arms, a line was written in his own handwriting:

“The universe has no meaning. But the road does.”

[Infinite Heavens · Quantum Cultivation · Parallel Universes · Hundred Schools of Thought · Lighthearted]