Fan Lang strolled along slowly. Beneath his feet was a street that branched out in every direction, crowded with people and lined with shops on both sides.
This street was a transportation hub. Through its various intersections, one could directly reach different illusionary regions.
In a world built from thoughts, the concepts of space and distance were utterly different from reality. With a single thought, one could transform and travel through it.
The shops along the street offered all sorts of things. Some were connected to reality, while others existed only within the illusion.
Their businesses were varied, and some were particularly unusual. For example, some sold dreams. As long as customers paid, they could customize all kinds of dreams, and those dreams were so realistic that they could pass for the real thing.
After buying such dreams, some people even mistook them for reality. That was where the trouble began.
Other shops made unscrupulous money by accepting jobs to alter thoughts, helping clients change the thoughts of targeted groups—for example, forcibly making a woman fall in love with someone she had never loved.
Although Fan Lang did not often wander through the illusionary world, he knew a great deal about it. The shops on either side failed to draw his interest.
He continued onward. At some point, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky, raindrops scattering down and wetting everything around him.
Rain in an illusion was more for setting the mood. As long as one did not wish it, one would not be drenched.
The people on the street paid little attention to the drizzle. Some even conjured umbrellas and other rain gear to suit the scene, strolling beneath them in the rain.
Fan Lang wore a bamboo hat. Rain struck its surface, gathering until it