Villa

Under the luxurious sofa lay a thick fur rug; the fireplace not far off was dark and hollow, with ashes left behind from burned wood.

Night had already taken over this world; they shouldn't have been able to see so clearly, but the crystal chandelier overhead was still lit, its refracted light cutting the visitors into fragmented pieces.

This villa still had electricity.

"Let's look around first," the strong man said, pulling his gaze away from the chandelier. "Stick together, don't split up."

Soon they found a large amount of food in the dining room's refrigerator, including vegetables, rice, flour, meat, and even a few snacks.

It looked fresh, as if it had been put in not long ago.

But judging by the dust on the floor, that was impossible.

Yet the group's focus clearly wasn't there. The strong man stared at the food, his face showing no surprise at all. After a long moment, he said flatly, "At least we won't starve to death."

Behind him came the sound of rushing water. Jiang Cheng turned his head and saw the woman with a mole on her lip turning on the faucet; clean water flowed out.

She shut off the faucet, turned to face the others, and said slowly, "And we won't die of thirst either."

Next, they found a large pile of firewood in a remote, storage-like little room.

Stack after stack of firewood, neatly arranged.

The second floor was the living area—one master bedroom, one study, two small bedrooms, and at the end of the hall, a locked room.

It was obvious that both the strong man and the woman were interested in the locked room, but neither brought up the idea of breaking in to take a look.

The stairs to the third floor were blocked by a black iron door. The strong man shook it; the door didn't budge.

The group retreated to the first-floor living room.

They had already spent most of the day in this world, especially after the car accident and the long trek—now they were cold and hungry.

The strong man suggested he take the middle-aged man to fetch firewood and start a fire, while the woman, Jiang Cheng, and the fat man would cook, leaving the girl and the male clerk to tidy up the house.

Jiang Cheng stared blankly at the spread of ingredients on the table. The woman sneered and stopped paying him any attention.

Fortunately, the fat man knew how to cook—his knife skills and culinary ability were impressive. Before long, fragrant dishes were brought out, and he even thoughtfully fried an egg for everyone.

The area around the living room sofa had been cleaned up. Everyone sat around the fireplace, bowls in hand, eating.

The fire in the hearth burned fiercely, crackling and popping.

After dinner, they gathered to discuss the mission.

But the discussion soon devolved into an argument between the strong man and the woman. It couldn't be helped—the mission had just started, clues were scarce, and these two were the ones with the most say.

Judging by how familiar they were with the process, they had clearly succeeded in several missions before.

Night deepened.

The strong man insisted everyone sleep in the living room, but the woman firmly argued they should sleep in the second-floor bedrooms, claiming there might be clues there.

The two parted on bad terms. The girl chose to go with the woman, and as they headed for the stairs, the male clerk suddenly ran over to join them.

Jiang Cheng guessed it was the strong man's slaps that had left him traumatized.

And so, the strong man, the balding middle-aged man, Jiang Cheng, and the fat man stayed overnight in the living room, while the other three went upstairs to the bedrooms.

"Idiots!" the strong man muttered under his breath, watching them leave.

Sleeping in the living room didn't require much fuss, and with only men left, there were three long sofas—one per person, leaving one man to keep watch.

The strong man said he'd take the first shift. He pulled a pocket watch from his chest, opened the lid, and placed it on the small table in the middle.

"It's about 10 PM now. Sunrise is at 6 AM—eight hours total. There are four of us here, so each person stands watch for two hours. That way everyone gets enough rest."

Just as he was about to continue, he noticed the fat man in front of him staring at the watch with a strange expression.

"Don't bother looking—the time isn't accurate." He paused, then explained, "All clocks brought into the Dream Realm have their time scrambled. Its only use now is for counting."

The watch showed 4:18, clearly not matching reality.

Since Jiang Cheng and the fat man were newcomers, the strong man added a few more words, telling them that anything defying scientific common sense was normal in this world.

What they needed to do was find clues hidden behind all the anomalies, and through that, solve the mission and leave this place.

Jiang Cheng raised his hand. The strong man looked at him and asked, "Do you have something to say?"

"Since you've already escaped the nightmare world, why did you come back?"

"I only escaped temporarily—it's not over." The strong man sighed. "Oh, and no matter how badly you're hurt in the Dream Realm, as long as you're still breathing, you'll return to reality fully healed once the mission ends."

"Then how do you completely break free from the Nightmare Barrier?" The balding middle-aged man lifted his head. His voice was hoarse, giving an unpleasant feeling.

The strong man shot him a glance and said impatiently, "Don't ask stupid questions. You're not a newcomer—you should know that question is like us not being able to figure out what time period this world is in. It's an unsolvable problem."

The middle-aged man's face darkened, and he said nothing more.

Jiang Cheng raised his hand a second time.

The strong man looked at him with some exasperation. "If you want to ask something, just ask. No need to raise your hand."

"It should be sometime between late March and mid-September 2006," Jiang Cheng said very seriously.

The strong man froze. So did the middle-aged man, who had already lowered his head. The fat man also stared at Jiang Cheng with a puzzled look, wondering what he was up to.

"How do you know?" the strong man asked.

Jiang Cheng calmly pulled a small bag from his pocket and held it out closer to the others. They could see it was a bag of Da Ji Yuan mini bread.

He flipped the bag over and pointed at a line of small print: Production date: March 18, 2006. Shelf life: 6 months.

Then, under everyone's gaze, he tore the bag open, pulled out a piece of bread, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed for a bit, swallowed with a gulp, thought for a moment, and said, "Tastes good—soft and not stale. Considering it was stored in a refrigerator, I think the estimated date could be pushed even earlier."