Chapter Forty-One: Entering Once More

As Chen Hao entered the dream once more, he felt that familiar sensation of the world spinning, just as he had experienced before. This time, however, instead of being terrified and unsettled, he found himself enjoying the comfortable feeling that swept over him.

A faint sense of anticipation and confusion lingered in his heart. The last time he felt this sensation had been the day before he fell unconscious, just before entering the virtual reality game. Though, with Gu Mengyan’s help, he had convinced himself it was nothing more than a dream, there remained some confusion and regret within him.

Now, feeling the same sensation again, he wondered if everything Gu Mengyan had said was wrong, and if the events he’d experienced the first time were indeed real.

He truly did not know what had caused him to enter the game world, nor why he had met that NPC girl who called herself Vivian. With anticipation, Chen Hao quietly awaited whatever would greet him once he opened his eyes.

When he awoke, he was prepared to see Vivian’s sweet smile and hear her gentle voice. Yet reality struck him once again—the expected Vivian was nowhere to be found, the familiar house had vanished, and even the forest where he first appeared did not exist.

Before him was a scene reminiscent of the East African Rift he’d seen in books. He stood atop the high rift, not far from a sheer cliff, so wide it felt as though he was beside the broadest part of the Yellow River.

Though Chen Hao had never been to the Yellow River, he vaguely remembered watching a live broadcast as a child, where someone drove a car across the river. The spectacle was breathtaking—the immense river mouth, the surging waters, the deep impact it left on the soul. A narrow ramp had been built for the car to gain speed and leap across from one bank to the other.

The rift now before Chen Hao, though lacking a river, was just as striking when viewed from above. The Yellow River’s shock lay in its movement, but now, it was the static awe of the rift. Without water, the vast exposed riverbed revealed its depth directly, and the vertical drop was terrifying and awe-inspiring.

Damn it! This wasn’t what he’d expected at all! How had he ended up here? Was the location truly random? Even in online games, spawn points weren’t this arbitrary. He should have appeared where he’d logged out last, shouldn’t he?

Oh right, the virtual world hadn’t resumed normal operation yet. He hadn’t logged in through the proper server—it was more like a jailbreak, or perhaps... an illegal intrusion? Whatever. He’d better survey his surroundings first, Chen Hao thought.

Though he tried to observe his environment, there really wasn’t much to see. The land above the rift was desolate and boundless; below, the vast riverbed was exposed by the absence of water.

Alone in this barren place, Chen Hao idled, unable to determine his situation. Had he entered a dream again, or the game? Without reference points, he couldn’t judge. Finally, feeling bored, he walked slowly along the edge of the rift, calling out loudly, “Is anyone there?” But all he received in reply was his own echo from across the valley.

After walking for another stretch, he stopped, resigned. He’d been walking for half an hour, yet the road ahead still stretched endlessly.

He gazed at the great rift beside him, and suddenly felt a unique insight about his martial arts. His skills had reached a certain level, and he hadn’t improved for a long time. When he’d trained with his father, his father had told him that further progress could not be achieved by solitary practice alone.

If he wished to advance, only two paths remained: constant sparring with others to deepen understanding, absorbing strengths to compensate for weaknesses; or encountering special opportunities—a chance remark from someone, a drink or a dish inspiring new thoughts; or perhaps witnessing grand or mesmerizing scenery that relaxed and purified the mind, elevating his martial arts.

Chen Hao now found himself in the third scenario. Such a magnificent sight was something he’d never seen ‘with his own eyes’—whether in a dream or in a game. But it didn’t matter. What he could perceive was real to him, his brain told him that everything before him was true, almost indistinguishable from reality.

He even felt that, even in the real world, he could not witness a scene more astonishing than this. For someone who’d lived all his life in a bustling city, this was something he’d never thought possible. Dream or game, Chen Hao cherished this rare moment.

He could clearly sense his mood elevating, though he couldn’t say exactly what had changed, he knew his martial arts realm had improved. It was a mysterious feeling, hard to describe.

Not wanting to waste this rare opportunity, knowing that a mere moment of insight wasn’t enough, he needed to solidify his progress. Chen Hao took a deep breath and, beside the deserted rift, adopted the starting pose of his family’s martial arts, slowly beginning to practice.

Every martial art has its own routines and matching formulas. Chen Hao silently recited the familiar formulas, following the routine as he practiced.

His movements were slow, even slower than the elderly practicing tai chi downstairs. Yet, if a third person were present, they would surely be puzzled.

Though Chen Hao’s actions were slow, they felt swift and precise, almost inexplicably so. One could sense where his next punch or kick would land. What should have taken several seconds to reach, he achieved in the blink of an eye.

As he practiced, his movements became smoother. The techniques he had neglected for years returned in an instant, without the slightest awkwardness.

Now he wished he could linger here longer, for he didn’t know how long he could remain in this unreal environment. Last time, his stay lasted only two or three hours, and he never figured out how he’d entered or left.

So now, he cherished this precious chance, practicing with all his might, afraid he would forget everything once he left.

According to the logic of dreams, one usually forgets everything upon waking.

But fate had other plans. His expectations were suddenly shattered by an external force. Chen Hao vaguely heard a commotion from the bottom of the gorge—voices, and the sounds of horses, loud enough that it couldn’t be just one person. The gorge was deep, so a single voice couldn’t have reached him.

Who would he meet now? People, NPCs, or perhaps programmers? Judging by the noise... it sounded like someone was riding horses. Besides the chatter, the most prominent sounds were hooves pounding the ground and neighs.

Chen Hao stopped his movements, walked to the edge, and looked down. On one side of the rift, a group of people in beige robes rode swiftly across the valley. The distance was too great for Chen Hao to see their faces, so he couldn’t discern their ethnicity.

However, from the shape of the spears and axes they carried, they were likely from the Middle East. What convinced him most was the curved daggers adorned with ivory, jade, and agate hanging from their waists.

His father had taught him about weapons from different periods and places, so Chen Hao could identify them at a glance.

Damn! Last time it was the Elven Forest, now it’s the East African Rift? Yet here come Middle Eastern warriors? This must be the game world, right?

He wondered how Vivian was now—would his sudden disappearance frighten that innocent, curious girl?

As he watched those passing beneath him, Chen Hao had no intention of drawing attention. If these people were Middle Eastern warriors by game design, exposing himself could bring unnecessary trouble or danger. So, after identifying them, he lay low by the rift and observed.

Suddenly, he noticed something unusual among them—a wooden cage dragged by horses, containing a frail figure. Though he couldn’t see the face, one thing was unmistakably familiar: the figure bore four colorful, translucent wings, just like Vivian’s...