A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Right.

They expect to be waited on hand and foot, with clothes handed to them and food served to them.

If you want tea, someone will make it for you;

If you want to eat, someone will cook for you;

When I want to sleep, someone makes the bed and folds the blankets.

I wanted to take a bath, and someone boiled water to scrub my back.

Everything is top-notch.

The palace maids were the most beautiful, the pastries were the most delicious, the tea was the best, and even the sandalwood incense in the air was the most expensive.

Anyone would be confused in this kind of situation.

Zhu Cheng stood under the osmanthus tree, looking at the brightly lit Yongning Palace with its many people, and listening to Qi Qi's laughter and Ji Zuodao's shouts directing the palace maids. Suddenly, an indescribable feeling welled up in his heart.

He recalled the first time he entered this secret realm.

At that time, he, like Ji Zuodao, was stunned by the prosperity and comfort of this place.

He lived in the Forbidden City for three whole months, enjoying fine clothes and delicacies every day, surrounded by servants, and able to have whatever he wanted and do whatever he pleased.

It's a million times more comfortable than being the owner of that run-down antique shop outside.

He was obsessed with it for a long time.

Until one day, he discovered something.

Something that made it impossible for him to enjoy all of this with a clear conscience anymore.

Zhu Cheng's eyes dimmed for a moment.

But it was only for a moment.

He quickly returned to normal, and his gentle smile returned to his face.

He raised his head, looked in the direction of Yongning Palace, then looked at the starry sky above, and sighed softly.

It's wonderful to be so happy that you forget about home.

Enjoy it a little longer.

Such days are numbered.

For the next period of time, Qiqi completely let loose and let loose.

Every weekend, when she didn't have to go to school, she would get up early, dress herself neatly, and then excitedly run towards Chengguzhai, holding Ji Zuodao's hand.

His enthusiasm was many times higher than when he was in school; it was as if he had become a completely different person.

Zhu Cheng also intensified his efforts.

They send all sorts of good stuff to Qiqi.

Today I'm giving away a set of ivory carvings for pretend play;

I'll give you a singing music box tomorrow;

The day after tomorrow, I will send you a lifelike little pony made of silk, with even the mane embroidered one by one.

Even the palace maids who were there to entertain the guests were sent over in waves, each one different.

Each palace maid had her own special skill—

Some can tell stories, some can sing ditties, some can play cat's cradle, and some can weave grasshoppers.

Qiqi plays different things every day, and the novelty keeps coming, so she just can't stop.

Ji Zuodao didn't seem to have any objections to this.

He spent his days in Yongning Palace, drinking tea, eating snacks, and basking in the sun. Occasionally, he would instruct the palace maids to massage his back and shoulders. He lived a more comfortable life than Qi Qi.

Sometimes, when he was in the mood, he would ask the imperial kitchen to prepare a few hearty dishes for him, along with a pot of wine, and he would sit alone in the courtyard, eating and drinking leisurely.

Watching Qiqi run around in the yard, a look of contentment, like that of a "retired senior cadre," appeared on her face.

He no longer seemed to be constantly by Qiqi's side like before.

Sometimes Qiqi would go to the Imperial Garden with the palace maids and stay there for most of the day, but he wouldn't go with them. He would just stay in Yongning Palace, eating and drinking as usual.

I'll occasionally take a nap, and when I wake up I'll ask if Qiqi is back yet. If she's not back, I'll go back to lying down.

Zhu Cheng observed for several days, and the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong.

Weird.

Has this bastard changed his ways?

Where did that fiercely protective brother who used to want to keep Qiqi by his side and kill anyone who got too close go?

Why are you acting like a completely different person now, so careless as to leave Qiqi alone in the secret realm?

Zhu Cheng stood at a distance, watching Ji Zuodao lying on a rattan chair in the courtyard of Yongning Palace, his face covered by a palm-leaf fan, his legs crossed, his toes swinging back and forth, looking as if he were sunbathing in a resort, so leisurely that it made people envious.

He frowned, a vague feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He shook his head, turned and left.

Forget it, who cares? As long as Qiqi is willing to stay, let that bastard Ji Zuodao do whatever he wants.

After he left, Ji Zuodao, who was sitting in the rattan chair, slowly removed the palm-leaf fan from his face a crack.

He squinted, peering through the crack at Zhu Chengyuan's departing figure, a meaningful smile slowly creeping onto his lips.

That smile held a hint of amusement and a touch of mockery.

Then, he covered his face with the palm-leaf fan again and continued to sunbathe.

As evening approached, the palace maids in Yongning Palace began to bustle about preparing dinner.

Ji Zuodao stood up, stretched, loosened his muscles, and then strolled out of the Yongning Palace courtyard gate.

Instead of going anywhere else, he turned into a quiet side passageway.

Ji Zuodao walked into a shady spot, stopped, leaned against the wall, and took out his phone to take a look.

The time was 6:45 PM.

He put his phone away, then squatted down, his gaze falling on a small purple wildflower growing in the cracks between the blue bricks at his feet.

The flower was very small, with petals no bigger than a fingernail, pale purple, and it closed slightly in the twilight, as if it were about to go to sleep.

It grows in the cracks between bricks, its roots deeply embedded in the soil, growing tenaciously, forming a stark contrast with the flowers in the surrounding carefully tended flowerbeds.

Ji Zuodao reached out, pinched the stem of the flower, and gently pulled it.

Uproot it completely.

He held the flower in his hand, looked at it from all angles, and then casually tossed it into the nearby bushes.

He patted the dirt off his hands, stood up, leaned against the wall, and continued to wait.

I waited until morning.

A silvery laugh rang out from around the corner of the passageway.

Two young palace maids came running over from around the corner, laughing and joking.

One ran ahead, and the other chased after it, each holding a crabapple blossom that they had picked from who-knows-where.

They were so engrossed in running that they didn't notice Ji Zuodao standing in the shadows.

They ran past Ji Zuodao, their laughter echoing through the passageway before fading into the distance and disappearing around the corner at the other end.

Ji Zuodao did not move.

He leaned against the wall, watching the two palace maids run away, then looked down at the cracks in the blue bricks beneath his feet.

That little purple wildflower has grown back.

It grew peacefully in the cracks between the bricks, its petals slightly closed, swaying gently in the twilight, as if mocking his futile efforts.

Ji Zuodao looked at the flower, remained silent for a few seconds, then took out his phone and glanced at the time on the screen.

Eight o'clock in the morning.

He has already plucked this flower eight times.

Every time he plucked that flower, it would grow back the next day, exactly the same as before.

Even the number of petals, the degree of opening, and the angle at which it tilts in the wind are all perfectly accurate.

And those two little palace maids.

Without disturbing them, they would pass through that passageway, laughing and joking, each holding a crabapple blossom in their hand, the petals fluttering down.

The time, route, actions, and dialogue are exactly the same every day, as if they were programmed, so precise that it makes your scalp tingle.

Ji Zuodao went through all this information in his mind and then came to a conclusion—

This secret realm is indeed problematic.

It's not a problem that's "a little bit wrong," but a problem that's "fundamentally wrong."

Those strange things, those palace maids, eunuchs, and soldiers—their behavior patterns, their activity patterns, their language and actions—were all fixed.

They would appear at fixed times and locations, do fixed things, and say fixed things, like a group of NPCs with pre-programmed routines, running day after day in this virtual world.

And the things that were damaged, such as the flowers he pulled out, would be restored to their original state the next day.

Is this a reset? A refresh? Or a loop?