Fifth Arc: Dunyu

He Lingchuan’s eyes flew open, and he jerked upright.

He was inside the carriage. The space was cramped. On the low table before him lay a half-finished game, and on the opposite wall a small smudge marred the paneling. By his feet, a tiered mountain-shaped censer puffed out a steady stream of calming incense.

He was back in the real world.

Instinctively, he touched his own throat. Both hands came away clammy with cold sweat.

It’s completely fine.

He drew a long breath. It feels good to be alive.

This had been his third brush with death. The sensation of a blade severing his windpipe would not leave him, especially since the hand on the hilt had been his own.

If entering the Panlong Dreamscape had any flaw, then it was that it was too real.

How long would it take this...