One year?
Ten years?
A hundred years?
He can no longer remember the years; this "True World" conflicts severely with his original memory, stretched countless times and filled with endless filth, nausea-inducing content.
His Heart Soul has completely fallen into despair.
He could not find any flaw, nor could he struggle awake; he couldn't even bring about his own end.
He could only be forced to feel the utterly nauseating feedback, deeply entrenched, unable to be removed or avoided.
The sole comfort was that his Heart Soul ultimately held firm.
He found no pleasure in it, only anger; anger so extreme it became numbness.
And the greater comfort came in the sense that everything seemed finally to be coming to an end.
"After Tao Qian finished with the debauchery in the Sect, he seemed bored and entered the world once again."
