"I haven't traveled back; I'm still in Great Yu. It's just that my consciousness entered the fourth mural... and this painting, it's actually the world from my memory. Here, I have my original identity, and even the time is the same as the point when I transmigrated..."
Zhao Douan, somewhat clumsily, exhales a cloud of smoke, akin to a 35-year-old unemployed corporate worker, sitting on the curb, gazing up at the sky marred by severe light pollution.
"So... could it be that the ability of the fourth painting is to construct a world based on my self-awareness? Just like when 'Master Gu Huo' invaded my memory back then? This would explain why it's a modern city..."
"...But Zhenbao also said she entered an unfamiliar world... There's no reason Zhenbao would construct a new world too..."
"Unless..."
Zhao Douan's eyes suddenly become introspective, his brow furrowed:
