Lin Feng floated outside the window of the shabby communal building, listening to the nauseating sounds of devouring within.
The wind picked up.
Blown by the wind, the Ten Methods of Immortality inside smashed through the window and flew straight at Lin Feng's face, flapping against it.
Lin Feng's vision went black.
That slick, slippery sensation instinctively reminded him of Bloodline Worms burrowing into his facial openings, sending a chill through him.
He hurriedly reached up and pulled it off.
In that instant, the world outside shifted. Lin Feng saw that he had left the communal housing in a small County Seat town around the turn of the millennium and arrived above a bustling street in the much older, late Qing era.
He caught a faint briny smell on the wind, saw frenzied figures dancing beside the Bonfire, and watched a blood moon rise. Dried, dead Sacrifice offerings hung from towering trees on an island in the Sea.
He saw the dynasty's coastal defenses crumble and pirates run rampant. He saw vast migrations, people heading through the Western Pass, venturing beyond Shanhai Pass into the northeast, and sailing south to Nanyang.
He saw the vast lands Beyond the Pass, concealing the secrets of the deep northeastern mountains.
He saw the boundless grasslands along the route through the Western Pass, where human lives were worth no more than weeds and official checkpoints stood like nails.
He also saw foreigners sharpening their blades in Nanyang, with giant beasts lurking there.
This strange, helpless dream flooded Lin Feng's heart amid the sudden sweep of that grand narrative, then swiftly vanished. In the end, everything became a bubble, punctured with a "pop."
Lin Feng returned to "reality," standing firmly on the street, and saw the scene that had first greeted him when he charged