Luo Chuan looked at the Magic Phone. The clamor in the shop was automatically filtered out by his ears, and all his attention immersed itself in the story painted by the words.
The story was about the protagonist accidentally arriving in an unfamiliar world. After wandering aimlessly for several days, she finally could no longer endure her hunger and decided to steal some money.
Perhaps she lacked professional skill, or perhaps her luck was simply terrible; her first plan ended in failure.
Not only did the other party not report her to the authorities, they even treated her to a meal. Upholding the principle of going wherever food was provided, she took them as her master.
Then came war, war, war...
Year after year of conflict, she naturally noticed her own differences as well. Her appearance never aged; even decades later, she still looked exactly the same.
As time passed, her strength grew ever greater. Familiar faces departed one after another, until only she remained in the enormous house.
She had always been alone, located in the torrent of history, like a spectator on the banks of the river of time, and also like a spray of water within it.
In the end, the things she did became part of history as well. But what could they change?
All to fulfill her teacher's wish—a single meal had bought thousands of years of waiting...
Luo Chuan felt somewhat dazed. Was it a predetermined destiny?
Books with transmigration as their theme truly resonated with him, making him unable to help placing himself in the story. If his own transmigration had been like this, what would he have done?
A thousand years of loneliness, a destiny long since decided, living among mortals and able only to watch those around him slowly grow old,