The swaying torch light could only illuminate a small area in front of me, and further away was an inky blackness that was so thick that it couldn't be melted away. The walls were made of huge stones, with wet and cold water vapor seeping from the gaps.
He was wearing a set of rough linen clothes that he didn't know how many hands were wearing. They were stiff and rubbed against his skin.
In his hand, holding a rod... What the hell is this?
A thing that barely maintains the shape of a spear, with the wood at the top turning black and rotten?
A huge and messy memory fragment stabbed into his mind like an ice pick - Lishan Imperial Mausoleum, Gui-shaped mausoleum road, corpse guard Fang Wuji, on duty last night, the corpse of a buried craftsman he was guarding "missed", the military prince was furious, and accountability was imminent...
"Fuck..." Fang Wuji, or rather, the modern soul that had just taken over this body, squeezed out a dry moan from his throat.
Not a dream.
The matter of time travel actually fell on me, a social beast who couldn't move 996 volumes and just wanted to lie down?
