I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

At this point, Zhang Yangqing's body had adapted somewhat, but it had not improved; in fact, it was getting worse.

The backlash wasn't something that ended after one wave; rather, it came like a tide, one wave after another, each more intense than the last.

However, Zhang Yangqing is very adaptable, and this body still has some time left.

Even a beautiful woman with almond-shaped eyes could notice that the air around Zhang Yangqing's body was slightly distorted.

It wasn't the distortion of a heat wave, but something more eerie, like the folds of space.

Sometimes, Zhang Yangqing's left hand would become blurry, as if it had been pixelated, with indistinct outlines and distorted colors, as if that hand might disappear from the world at any moment.

After a few seconds, it returns to normal, but after a while, it might become blurry again, perhaps on the right hand, the left foot, or half of the face.

This is why Zhang Yangqing said he might "disappear".

Upon hearing the question from the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes, Zhang Yangqing did not answer for the time being.

He looked up at the crescent moon in the night sky. The moonlight was faint, mostly obscured by clouds, but it was not the faintness of Yudu, nor the faintness of the Undying Mountain. Instead, it was a familiar, gentle faintness, like that of an old friend.

Everything around me was unfamiliar—the air, the wind, the chirping of insects—but somehow I felt like I'd seen this moon somewhere before.

Could it be that I have been to this world?
A thought popped into Zhang Yangqing's mind.

The spatial codes within him and the woman with the peach blossom eyes were all created by him based on his intuition, without referencing any coordinates or following any rules; they were purely "made up."

But "making things up" doesn't mean "making things up randomly." His intuition is traceable. Every ghost story world he has experienced, every instance he has entered, and every inch of land he has set foot on has left a certain imprint in his mind.

Those marks are usually inconspicuous, but they will unconsciously emerge when writing spatial codes, affecting his judgment.

In other words, the code he wrote corresponds to the world he has been to.

"I'm not sure, let's go out and take a look."

Zhang Yangqing stood up, dusted himself off, and led the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes out of the dilapidated temple.

Outside the temple was a patch of overgrown grass, tall enough to reach above knee-high, soft and rustling underfoot.

In the distance, rolling hills stretched out, covered with unidentified trees that looked like rows of silent sentinels in the moonlight.

After crossing a hill, a wide-open view suddenly appeared before us.

At the foot of the mountain lies a city.

The city's silhouette in the night resembles a sleeping behemoth, with the silhouettes of its skyscrapers varying in shape—some sharp, some flat, some round, and some square.

The lights twinkled, some bright, some dim, some flickering, forming a halo of light on the edge of the city.

Occasionally, a vehicle would pass by on the street, its headlights casting long beams of light in the darkness before disappearing around the corner.

Upon seeing this, Zhang Yangqing began to frown.

It seems he really has been to this city before.

But it wasn't the kind of visit where you "came here".

"Let's go find the next place I'm familiar with."

Zhang Yangqing led the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes down the hill and headed towards the city.

The beautiful woman with almond-shaped eyes followed behind, her steps light and quick, her eyes darting around, giving the impression of a country girl visiting the city for the first time.

She couldn't help but ask, "Boss, have you been to this place before?"

Zhang Yangqing shook his head, then nodded: "Not entirely sure. As long as I find that place, it will prove I've been here." The two entered the city. The streets were wide, the road surface was smooth, and the sidewalks on both sides were paved with neat bricks.

The buildings along the roadside are not tall, only four or five stories high, with their exterior walls painted in various colors, some white, some yellow, some red, and some faded, revealing the gray-black cement underneath.

Some of the buildings looked very new, their glass curtain walls reflecting a cold light under the streetlights.

Some of them looked very old, with peeling paint and broken windows, as if no one had taken care of them for a long time.

Some buildings are covered with greenery, with vines hanging down from the rooftops and swaying gently in the breeze.

There were few pedestrians on the road. Occasionally, a man wrapped in a coat would hurry by, his head down, so his face could not be seen.

Occasionally, a stray cat would dart out from behind a trash can, glance at them, and then disappear into the darkness.

There weren't many vehicles; only one would pass by every few minutes. The beams of their headlights swept across the street, leaving a brief streak of light before the darkness returned.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes touched this and looked at that, her eyes full of envy.

She touched the lamppost; it was cool and slippery.

She crouched down and touched the paving stones on the sidewalk; they were flat and hard.

She looked up at the sky. There was no mist, no spatial rifts, only the moon and stars, just like the ones he had read about in the 'fairy tale book' in the underground world.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes asked with envy, "Boss, do you think if the humans in my city weren't driven to the underground by the supernatural, would they live on the surface like the humans here?"

"The air here is so clear. Although there's a slightly eerie atmosphere in the dark, overall it feels very human. The roads are wide and clean, and there are people taking walks at night, as well as cats."

She was born in the underground world, worked as a miner, lived in prison, and the best "street" she had ever seen was the twisted, dirty, and filthy underground streets of Yudu.

She never knew that humans could live in such a place, with moonlight, a gentle breeze, smooth roads, and nights without fear of being attacked by eerie forces.

Zhang Yangqing nodded, his tone calm: "That's right, Savior, this is your mission."

When Zhang Yangqing teased her again, the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes pouted, her lips pouting so much they could hang an oil bottle on them.

Her face held a hint of dissatisfaction, a touch of speechlessness, and an indescribable, almost arrogant, emotion.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes wanted to retort, but didn't know what to say. She wanted to protest, but didn't dare. She just quickened her pace and walked in front of Zhang Yangqing so that he wouldn't see her expression.

Zhang Yangqing didn't mind and continued walking forward.

After turning a corner and passing through an alley, Zhang Yangqing suddenly stopped.

The beautiful woman with almond-shaped eyes almost bumped into him. She quickly stopped and followed his gaze. Across the street was a building.

The building is quite tall, occupies a large area, and has a unique artistic design.

The exterior walls are grayish-white, and in some places the paint has peeled off, revealing the dark red bricks underneath.

The main gate is a double gate, two dark brown wooden doors with mottled paint and brass handles that are rusted and have a greenish patina.

Above the door hangs a sign with a black background and white lettering that reads "Madame Wax Museum".

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes looked at the three words and tilted her head: "Wax Museum? Boss, you want to see wax figures?"

Zhang Yangqing did not answer. He stood across the street, looking at the building with a somewhat dazed expression.

(End of this chapter)