Chapter 2

History... is sick?

History is already established fact; why does it manifest as a long river?

Who could make It sick?

After the River of History falls ill, what will happen?

Questions flashed through his mind, but Jiang Yan was too weak to think; fortunately, the figure deep within the River of History, churning with endless black dust, gradually faded away.

The related memories in Jiang Yan's mind also slipped away like sand through a clenched fist, vanishing rapidly and growing hazy; otherwise, he felt he would truly explode on the spot.

"What the hell is this thing?"

Jiang Yan bent over, gasping for air; the cold air scraped his throat, bringing waves of stinging pain. His clothes, soaked with sweat, clung sticky to his body.

But he paid them no mind, temporarily ignoring the faint crying sounds in his ears. His gaze swept the surroundings, and he had already preliminarily determined the current situation.

He had been dragged into a supernatural incident and entered an independent space.

He said this because the originally bustling crowd of pedestrians had vanished, leaving silence; it was as if the entire world had abandoned him.

Besides that, rust-colored and black mixed dust permeated the surroundings, constantly adhering to the surrounding antique-style, low-tiled houses of the Suzhou school.

The green tiles on the roofs began to turn black at a speed visible to the naked eye; the translucent window panes looked dilapidated, as if carved by centuries of time, reverting to Jiangnan architecture from a hundred years ago.

However, as a local, Jiang Yan's face looked grim; he knew clearly that except for the Old Street and a handful of buildings which were ancient structures, many buildings now appearing antique were actually mostly old houses that had been destroyed or demolished and rebuilt.

After all, tourism counties only emerged in recent decades as people's lives improved; in earlier years, who would prefer living in low ancient houses if they could afford small Western-style villas? During the humid season, walls were covered in water stains, wooden doors creaked after long use, various small animals would visit from time to time, white ants in wall cracks gnawed at the beams, air conditioning was inconvenient to install, natural gas couldn't be used, and so on...

Tourists come with filters, but long-term residence tests the homeowner's patience to the extreme.

As for the gardens where ancient wealthy merchants lived...

One must consider how many maids and servants they had to serve them before constructing such superior living conditions.

Therefore, the architecture of the Old Street was all restored and rebuilt in recent decades by the local cultural tourism bureau to promote the tourism industry; these modern products constructed of cement and steel, however, aged at a speed visible to the naked eye before this dust.

So what would happen if it fell upon a person?

At this moment, the dust had filled the entire sky, drifting like heavy snow, falling in a scattered cascade.

Jiang Yan immediately hid under the eaves of a tiled house, yet the dust somehow followed him over.

It even has auto-tracking?

With a cheat code, there's no way to play!

Just as he was about to give up struggling, this rust-colored dust seemed to sense his rejection; it stopped approaching and instead swirled before him, gathering into a string of pictographic characters, but quickly changed into oracle bone script, then into small seal script, then into regular script, including many characters he had never seen before, finally settling into the simplified characters Jiang Yan knew best.

【Historical Dao Marker: Turbid Flow — Grade A】

【Main Quest: The space of Pan'an County, Jiangnan Province, has encountered an unknown mutation; the present world has been scourged by the historical turbid flow. This Old Street has undergone a bizarre transformation. Please survive for one hour; free exploration is allowed.】

【Quest Hint: Stay alive!】

The last three words appeared in blood-red, faintly carrying the scent of rust-sweet blood, delivering a violent shock to Jiang Yan's heart.

The River of History has become a game world due to illness?

No, that's not right; his body does not seem to have been digitized.

It should be said that the great power of the River of History gave Jiang Yan the most convenient hint to understand.

Truly keeping pace with the times... my foot.

At this moment,

Jiang Yan's hanging heart finally died completely.

Because anyone who has played games knows, especially horror games, the hardest part is never defeating a BOSS or searching for items, but the survival mission.

Because this indicates that the GM (game official) never thought you could defeat the unknown terror; it's just going through the motions.

Game officials usually set up mechanisms or items to help players experience the game and clear it; however, translated into reality, it can be rendered as...

Ten deaths, no life!

Hoo, hoo, hoo!

At the same time, wild winds churned, and the historical dust blew away with the wind, transforming into dense red fog; the mist condensed, so thick it could drip water.

Or rather... it is flowing water.

A turbid tributary branched off from that vast River of History, rushing from the ancient past onto the shore of the present world.

Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!

Within the fog came the sound of horse hooves trampling on bluestone slabs and the sound of the slabs shattering, like war drums beating; within the fog, tall figures of cavalry emerged.

However, the leader's figure was extremely tall; man and horse together reached a full four meters high. He carried a huge flag, and the fog around him constantly receded, making his figure gradually clear.

"Clearly Jiangnan architecture? But it seems we are no longer in a desolate borderland..."

As the low, hoarse voice sounded, they appeared completely on the street.

Jiang Yan's gaze sharpened; he felt no joy at the arrival of the voice's owner, but instead took a deep breath.

Because what appeared were giant monsters with wild boar heads and human bodies, with green faces and fangs, their entire skin displaying a color of green jade. Their flesh was piled up, bloated like bronze war chariots. They wore armor inscribed with characters, but it was covered by oil secreted from their bodies. Their bellies were not characters, but a huge mouth full of teeth, constantly chewing, emitting hungry low growls.

They were not riding horses; instead, their lower bodies extended numerous blood threads, wrapping together a large number of severed limbs. Fragments of coarse cloth clothing and stark white bones were faintly visible on them. It was unknown from which unlucky creatures they had been severed, but they were forcibly assembled into special, heavy six "hooves" to support their bloated bodies. There were ten such monsters in total.

Their arrival made the originally spacious Old Street become crowded.

The one carrying the flag at the head was a deer-headed cavalryman whose entire body resembled white jade. Including its three-meter-long blood-red single horn, it stood seven meters tall. The antler on its right side had been severed, leaving a smooth plane, like a giant beast.

Its left hand formed a seal, looking somewhat solemn and majestic; its right hand held the flagpole. On the imperial yellow flag, a five-clawed golden dragon stared with round, angry eyes, surrounded by flame patterns and dragon motifs.

Its breathing stirred up wild winds, making the flag flap and rustle.

Characters were embroidered in the center of the flag, but they were stained by congealed blood so they were unclear; the only discernible character was "King".

"This seems to be... the Qing Dynasty's dragon flag!"

Jiang Yan's gaze sharpened; he had already recognized the flag's origin.

Such flags were generally used by high-ranking generals of the Qing Dynasty during military campaigns, attached with flame patterns and the title of a prince; if they came from a certain tribe, there would also be corresponding tribal characters to display their identity.

That is to say, these mutated monsters seem to come from...

Great Qing?

The possibility of a Parallel World cannot be ruled out either.

"The stench of those mud-legs from the Taiping Army is gone; this is indeed not a desolate borderland, it is more like..." The deer-headed monster spoke with a hint of disbelief, murmuring: "The Present World."

"What?"

"This is the Present World?"

"The power of the mutation is much weaker; it is far better than that ghost place of ours."

"I never thought chasing down the remnants of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom would yield such a harvest..."

"We will finally not mutate any further..."

"..."

One of the pig-headed monsters said obsequiously:

"Commander Lu, then let us quickly return to the Wang Ting of Corpse-Release to report to the Prince."

"No rush!"

The monster known as Commander Lu waved his hand, his snout twitching, and whispered: "This place was merely washed by the river of history, forming a desolate borderland; it will take a while to fully take shape, besides..."

As the words fell, it turned its head, looked at the old street, and revealed a sinister smile...

And inside a room deep in the street, Jiang Yan held his breath; the moment they appeared, he had already hidden and propped the metal door bolt.

Through the narrow crack in the door, Jiang Yan stared at Commander Lu and the multitude of pig-headed monsters not far away; his body trembled uncontrollably, and he murmured in his heart:

"Truly..."

"Beautiful!"

(End of this chapter)