"Cough, cough, cough..."
Daoist Bai Shuo coughed violently, his consciousness gradually returning to his body.
He looked around and found himself lying on a cold, damp bed. The faint candlelight illuminated the narrow space, less than ten square meters.
Though the room's decor appeared fresh and elegant, it exuded an inexplicable oppressiveness.
Daoist Bai Shuo shivered; the piercing cold gnawed into his flesh and blood.
"Hiss."
He couldn't help but clutch his head. His memories were unnervingly fragmented. The last thing he recalled was being at Zhi Mountain Temple, where he seemed to have encountered... raindrops?
"Why am I here? Could it be that Senior Brother Taiyi has met a grim fate?"
Aside from the raindrops, all he could remember was the dream he had while unconscious.
In the dream, he seemed trapped inside a container, with murmurs outside. Desperately, he struggled to escape, but it was all in vain.
"A dream, huh, a dream."
