O salão destruído estava à beira da morte, esperando por um soberano que pudesse devolver-lhe a glória. Li Xia tornou-se o apóstolo do Salão da Transcendência, mas descobriu que era o único funcionári
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Pain... intense pain surged from every corner of the body.
The wailing sirens echoed faintly in his ears, mingling with the terrified screams of passersby, creating a cacophony of noise.
A thin veil of blood-red tint clouded his vision.
Li Xia suddenly opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, gasping for breath as if struck by an electric shock.
Those pains, sounds, and blood seemed never to have existed.
An illusion? Or a nightmare?
He paused, lowering his gaze to his hands—something felt off.
I remember I was on my way home from work, but where is this place?
Thick fog enveloped the surroundings; except for the clothes on his body, everything else had vanished without a trace.
Slowly, memories from before losing consciousness began to flood back.
A dump truck roaring toward him, narrowly missing him before crashing into a small roadside restaurant.
Just another accident...
Wait, why did I say “another”?
Li Xia rubbed his cheek, confusion flickering across his face.
More memories surged forth.
Falling elevators, collapsing billboards... each time, he had miraculously escaped with his life.
I remember now... because I survived so many accidents, I thought about buying some paper houses and mansions to burn as offerings to my ancestors.
After all, luck had never been on his side since childhood; aside from his great-grandparents watching over him from below, he could think of no other explanation.
But how did I end up here?
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