Chapter 88 Stranger in a Strange Land

Chapter 88: The Stranger

Jiang Wang opened his eyes to an endless expanse of white.

He couldn't quite tell where he was, only that the howling, icy wind was lashing his face.

The ground was covered in thick snow, knee-deep, making every step a struggle.

Snowflakes swirled in the wind, dyeing the very air white and obscuring any path ahead.

Which way should he go?

There was nowhere to shelter from the blizzard.

Jiang Wang was lost in this endless white storm.

Shivering, he went on instinct, trudging against the wind.

He didn't know how long he walked before he vaguely glimpsed the outline of a tree in the distance, atop a small hill.

As he drew closer, he noticed the tree wasn't covered in snow; it remained a deep brown.

Making the tree his target, Jiang Wang pressed on with renewed effort, wishing he could fly straight to it.

He also realized that the closer he got to the tree, the more the wind and snow died down. The snow cover grew shallower, and even the temperature rose slightly, not quite as biting.

Jiang Wang let out a breath, rubbing his red, frozen hands together, and sighed in relief.

Finally, he wouldn't have to endure the freezing cold anymore.

But when he actually stood beneath the tree, he discovered that while it was brown, it didn't look like a winter tree stripped bare and withered.

Instead, the entire tree appeared charred.

Its core was hollow, only an empty shell stubbornly holding its form.

The delicate twigs at its tips had long been burned away, leaving only thicker branches clinging to it, maintaining the illusion of life.

Jiang Wang looked into the distance. The scene on this side of the hill was starkly different from the other.

If the other side was a freezing ice cave that made one shiver, this side was a scorching furnace.

A bright, immense sun, glowing like red-hot charcoal, hung low in the sky, radiating enough heat to wither the plants here.

There was no soil, only a vast, seemingly endless desert stretching as far as the eye could see.

The air shimmered slightly in his vision; Jiang Wang knew it was the heat rising.

The wind here wasn't as aggressive as on the other side. Instead, it wound itself subtly around you, insidiously seeping heat into your body, slowly parching your throat.

Without even setting foot into this desert, Jiang Wang could feel the waves of scorching heat rolling towards him.

He was deeply skeptical of this place.

Where on earth could embody such an extreme duality of ice and fire?

Now, he faced two choices.

Freeze to death, or burn to death.

But he didn't want either.

He wanted to live.

So Jiang Wang stood beneath the tree, agonizing over which direction to take, or whether to simply wait here. After all, this was the border, and the temperature was still somewhat tolerable.

He agonized for what felt like an age, unable to reach a decision.

When he finally looked down again, he realized that without him noticing, the yellow sand had already crept to his feet.

On the other side, the snow was being devoured by the sand, and the icy wind was being overwhelmed by the heat waves.

He was forced into this desert.

Jiang Wang gave a wry smile.

He stared at his empty hands. So, the choice had never been his to make.

He took a step forward, tore a strip from his long robe to use as a headscarf, and resolutely stepped into this scorching land.

He didn't know where to go; only his intuition guided him now.

Gradually, his strength began to fail.

His skin felt tight and parched, his lips were already cracked, and he desperately craved water.

Or at least a patch of shade to rest for a moment.

But alas, apart from the distant, ethereal mirage in the air, there was nothing to yearn for.

Jiang Wang knew it was a mirage.

Like a devil in the desert, it misled you, causing you to lose your way.

He should stay away.

Yet, when he peered closely, the blurred illusion resolved into the shape of the Cangwu Palace.

Golden roofs, red walls, glazed tiles. The spacious courtyard was hung with white mourning drapes—the symbol of an emperor's passing.

The emperor... Xiao Yan.

Something stirred in Jiang Wang's mind. He halted, abruptly changing his direction.

Even though he knew it might be a trap, he still wanted to see.

After all, he was already here. How much worse could it possibly get?

With every step Jiang Wang took towards the illusion, it seemed to retreat a little further.

It always maintained a distance—not too far, not too close.

And Jiang Wang no longer had the strength to go on.

Every inch of his exposed skin felt as if it were being pricked by countless tiny, burning needles. The hot wind scraped over his face and lips like sandpaper.

His tongue began to feel sticky, swallowing became difficult, and a fire seemed to be rising in his throat.

More importantly, he felt as if he were burning from the inside out.

He was going to end up like the plants in the desert.

He was going to wither away.

Just as the scenery before his eyes gradually blurred and he was about to collapse in this endless desert—

the sky seemed to have been cracked open, and a torrent of green liquid cascaded down like a waterfall.

Both in color and temperature, it carried a coolness that did not belong to this place.

Jiang Wang had long been unbearably thirsty. Without caring what it was, he cupped a handful and drank it.

The next moment, he spat it all out.

It was too bitter, with an herbal taste.

Jiang Wang grimaced from the bitterness, the lingering taste clinging to the back of his tongue.

It tasted awful.

He wished the crack wouldn’t give him such a foul drink—even if it wasn’t sugar water, plain water would have been fine.

But the crack seemed determined to oppose him. Not only was there nothing else, but the green liquid poured down even more fiercely than before.

The bitter smell made Jiang Wang nauseous.

But if he didn’t drink it, he would die of thirst.

Resigned to his fate, Jiang Wang pinched his nose and drank, spitting out more than he swallowed, but he managed to get some down.

Miraculously, after drinking just a little, he no longer felt as miserable as before.

He even felt as if the yellow sand was visibly receding into the distance, and the scorching heat of the sun was gradually fading.

He was alive again.

He watched as the desert and the blizzard slowly vanished, and the entire world turned pure black.

But it wasn’t pitch black—tiny fluorescent blue dots or streaks dotted the darkness, looking both sci-fi and beautiful.

He tried to grab them, but they refused to let him get close.

They either drifted away early or slipped right through his fingers.

Yet these little things led him to a beam of light. Jiang Wang stepped into it, and a familiar mechanical voice echoed from the empty darkness.

"Hello, host. Long time no see. Can you still remember what happened before?"

If Jiang Wang had only had a vague memory before, this voice opened the floodgates. Countless images surged through his mind like a river, filling his thoughts.

He remembered how he had arrived here, whom he had met and what he had done, even the tasks he had completed and how many points he had earned.

He remembered everything.

"I remember," Jiang Wang answered into the void. "I recall spending all my points in Lingnan. Why are you appearing here again? Is there a new task?"

"Well... host," the system hesitated, "you could call it a new task, or not."

"Huh?"

Jiang Wang found it strange—the system had never been so ambiguous before.

"Tell me."

"Ahem, host, you now have a choice."

The system cleared its throat, and the blue specks in the air glowed brighter with its voice, like floating blue fireflies.

"Considering your outstanding performance during the disaster relief in Lingnan, the Transmigration Administration has specially granted you 100 points. That means you have one exchange opportunity. Would you like to use it?"

A hundred points?

Jiang Wang’s eyes widened. After exchanging all his eighty points for rice and medicine, his points should have been zero.

But according to the system interface he pulled up, the points section clearly displayed a bright "100."

Before, he had toiled miserably, just to save up those points. Now, he had regained them all so easily?

Besides shock, Jiang Wang felt a flicker of suspicion toward the system.

But somehow... he felt a little less happy.

It was strange.

Jiang Wang found his own reaction strange.

Why wasn’t he happy? He had desperately completed tasks just to earn points, fantasizing countless times about what he would do once he had them.

He wanted to return to the modern era, resume his life as the young master of a wealthy family, find out who was behind the hit-and-run that struck him, then wake from his coma and expose that person’s true face.

That was the scenario he had imagined countless times.

And now, this opportunity was right before him, within reach.

All he had to do was say "use," and he could fulfill his long-held dream of becoming the protagonist of a satisfying story.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Host? Have you decided?"

001’s eager voice rang out again, as if urging Jiang Wang to make a quick decision.

"I..." Jiang Wang paused. "I need to think about it."

He seemed somewhat unwilling to leave this place—this summer without air conditioning, where the heat made him feel like a dog.

Yes, Jiang Wang confirmed to himself—he really didn’t want to leave.

More precisely, it seemed he didn’t want to leave Xiao Yan.

He clearly remembered Xiao Yan’s worried face in the last moment before he fainted.

Throughout their journey, he and Xiao Yan had started off wary of each other, scheming and clashing, neither able to stand the other.

Later, Xiao Yan had become protective and devoted, doing everything he could for him—all of which Jiang Wang had seen.

Then there was Changle, the servant he had bought on a whim—though by now they were more like friends.

If Changle knew he would vanish from this world, he'd be heartbroken too.

Of course, besides these two, there were also the witty and cheerful Wu Zhong, the reticent Ling Shan, and the elusive Ling Hai—each one a friend he didn’t want to lose.

He would be deeply saddened to leave this place.

He even thought that, though it didn't have modern conveniences, it was far warmer than his original family ever was.

His father's neglect led to his mother's illness and death, and soon after, the mistress from outside moved in as his stepmother, bringing with her a brother just two years his junior.

His brother had always resented him, constantly trying to trip him up, while his father always looked the other way.

He'd had enough of that cold, unwelcoming house.

Jiang Wang, unwilling to stay there, began hanging out with so-called friends.

They were called friends in name, but in truth, they were just a bunch of freeloaders who wanted him to foot the bill.

Bars, parties, KTV—not a single gathering was paid for by anyone but him.

Though he wasn’t favored, when it came to money, his irresponsible father had never shortchanged him.

Jiang Wang used to take pride in having so many friends around, but after experiencing what real friendship was like, he realized that his past self had just been a walking wallet—a clueless, exploited fool.

He craved the warmth here; he didn’t want to return to that icy, indifferent world.

“I…” Jiang Wang hesitated, then spoke up, “I… can I not go back?”

The blue fluorescent lights in the darkness flickered in unison. A few seconds later, the system finally responded.

Its tone was calm, as if unsurprised.

“Of course you can, Host. But you should know that these one hundred points have a time limit,” 001 added. “If you don’t use them now, they will disappear by tomorrow.”

“That means once you make your decision, there’s no turning back.”

“Not only will all your points be reset to zero, but I will also vanish completely, erasing every trace of my existence.”

“In the modern world, you are lying unconscious in a hospital bed. In the ancient world, you are unconscious in the Cangwu Palace.”

“As soon as you make your choice, the ‘you’ in that world will awaken immediately, while the ‘you’ in the other world will cease breathing—this ensures no temporal chaos.”

“Are you sure? Have you truly thought it through?”

The system’s voice was seductive, like a snake, tongue flickering, watching him with keen interest in the darkness.

Both were him. He would have to sever half of his own possibilities with his own hands—how cruel.

Yet Jiang Wang understood that one person could not exist across two timelines forever.

He had to make a choice.

Suddenly, his heart ached, as if it were being squeezed.

His eyes also grew inexplicably sore, and he felt a strong urge to cry.

It felt reasonable to him, yet there was no clear reason for it.

He wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and resolutely uttered three words.

“I’ll stay.”

As the words fell, instead of the anxiety and ache he had anticipated, a steady sense of security spread from his heart throughout his entire body.

He let out a sigh. It seemed he had made the right decision.

“Very well, Host~” The system’s voice brightened. “Since you’ve made your choice, I will carry out the procedure shortly.”

“But let me kindly remind you: returning to the modern world would consume these one hundred points. If you stay here, the points will remain.”

“If there’s anything you wish to exchange, do it promptly. In three days, this system will permanently disconnect from you.”

“I hope you won’t let these one hundred points go to waste~”

Although the system hadn’t always been reliable in the past, it had never failed in critical matters. This suggestion seemed sincere enough.

Jiang Wang thought for a moment and said, “Even though I’m not going back, I still want to know who exactly hit me.”

He hadn’t lain in that hospital bed for so long in vain—even if he couldn’t wake up, the wrongdoer should still face due punishment.

“I want to use these one hundred points to find out who hit me and ‘return the favor’ in the same way.”

“Understood, Host. Please wait a moment while I look into it for you.”

With a soft “ding,” a floating electronic screen appeared before Jiang Wang’s eyes.

It displayed, from a third-person perspective, who had masterminded the plot and who had urged the driver to run him over.

As expected, it was his scheming, malicious “good” brother.

He hadn’t even wanted to compete for the family inheritance anymore—was that still not enough to leave him alone?

“Host, the perpetrator who harmed you has been identified. It is estimated that your brother will suffer a more severe car accident within a day. I will inform you once it occurs.”

“Good.”

Jiang Wang nodded. The points weren’t wasted, and the culprit would face severe punishment—a fairly satisfying outcome.

It was just a pity he couldn’t witness it firsthand.

But he had gotten what he wanted, so he hadn't lost out.

“Then, Host, please prepare yourself. In ten minutes, you will awaken in the Cangwu Palace.”

*

“Your Majesty, Master Abbot requests an audience.”

Wu Zhong’s announcement interrupted Xiao Yan’s inexplicable sense of panic. At the same time, Xiao Yan realized that the Master Abbot’s visit wasn't without reason.

Jiang Wang had been unconscious all this time, and now the Master Abbot showed up right at this moment.

Moreover, he had specifically instructed the imperial physicians not to disclose Jiang Wang’s condition.

The timing was far too coincidental.

The Abbot entered, glanced at the unconscious Jiang Wang, then looked at Xiao Yan, who had been steadfastly at Jiang Wang’s side. He clasped his hands together and uttered that phrase for the second time.

“Life is but a fleeting journey, and you alone are a stranger in a foreign land.”

Xiao Yan was taken aback, unsure what the Abbot meant by this seemingly random statement.

Life is fleeting, a journey against the current—who is the lone stranger in a foreign land?

A stranger?

These two words acted like a hook, snagging all the elusive thoughts that had slipped through his mind the day before.

Did "the stranger" mean Jiang Wang?

Because Jiang Wang was a stranger, he always had those novel items.

Because Jiang Wang was a stranger, he had that exquisitely carved hairpin.

Because Jiang Wang was a stranger, he could procure such a vast amount of grain in such a short time.

So, Jiang Wang wasn't from this world... Was he going to leave?

Once Xiao Yan reached this conclusion, an overwhelming panic seized him completely.

It felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over his head, draining all the blood from his body in an instant, turning him into a motionless puppet who couldn't even blink.

Xiao Yan felt he could no longer breathe, as if something was tightly choking his throat.

It was only after a long while that his frozen mind began to clear.

The Master Abbot's arrival now surely meant there was a way.

This was the first time Xiao Yan had felt so utterly powerless. He didn't know what to do, yet he didn't dare take the slightest chance.

Even a single misstep could lead to consequences he could not bear.

He placed all his hopes on Master Abbot, praying that this venerable monk, blessed with profound Buddhist wisdom, could offer him some guidance.

The supreme emperor staggered to his knees, trembling as he grasped the Abbot's sleeve.

"Master, is there any way to make him stay?"

Author's Note:

Jiang Wang could stay, first because he himself did not wish to leave, and second because Xiao Yan did not want him to go either.