The long tug-of-war soon dragged on for three years.
Every day on the tranquil sea was much the same, from the clouds in the sky, to the blue-black sea, to the stories that unfolded, to his wavering resolve.
It made him wonder whether he was trapped in some kind of time loop.
In the legends of a certain ancient civilization, there was a being called the "Weaver," skilled at weaving a substance known as the "Thread of Time." It was the "Thread of Time" that wrapped around the world, allowing it to conceal itself and prevent outside invasions.
But the "Thread of Time" was also a potent poison.
When mortal flesh touched the "Thread of Time," it would enter a time loop, every day exactly the same, as though being reborn over and over.
Only suicide could free one from this time loop!
Well, naturally, this was only a legend from some civilization and could not be taken as truth.
Zhang Ming felt like a "Weaver" himself, tirelessly weaving dreams to protect his core memories.
At least his emotions remained fairly normal while he was awake.
Occasionally, he woke from his dreams and, while still feeling reasonably well mentally, jumped into the sea to wash himself. He could also spend an hour or two making himself a good meal.
Although his Attribute Points now increased at a snail's pace, the advantage was that they kept coming. A month of eating could add a year to his lifespan, which was better than nothing.
It was worth mentioning that, now that he was suffering from mental illness, the slightly adjusted Black Tortoise Breathing Technique actually yielded more Attribute Points, automatically adding around twenty to thirty a year. This was the first time in his life that the attributes gained through cultivation exceeded