The rickety long-distance bus rattled along the winding mountain road, its tires groaning with every pothole. Dust swirled outside the scratched windows, mixing with the afternoon haze that blanketed the countryside like an old, forgotten quilt.
Lin Feng sat by the window, a worn canvas backpack on his lap and an envelope clutched in his hand—his university graduation certificate. Four years of struggling through lectures, exams, and part-time jobs in the city had amounted to this moment: a quiet ride back to the rural town he had tried so hard to leave behind.
Yunhe Town hadn't changed much. The same red clay roads. The same tiled rooftops. The same old men squatting in front of the convenience store playing cards. The scent of burning straw lingered in the air, oddly comforting.
As the bus rolled into the tiny terminal near the edge of town, Lin Feng gathered his things, nodding politely to the driver and the few remaining passengers. His sneakers crunched against the gravel as he stepped off, the late summer sun heavy on his shoulders.
Home was a twenty-minute walk down a narrow dirt path lined with tall grass and rice paddies. His family's house was a humble two-story brick building with a slanted tile roof and faded red couplets still stuck beside the front door. Weeds poked up between the bricks in the courtyard, and the faint creak of chickens echoed from the backyard.
"Feng'er! You're back!" his mother called from inside, her voice warm and tinged with excitement. She rushed out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Come in, come in! I just made sweet potato porridge!"
Lin Feng smiled and stepped into the kitchen. The air smelled of steaming rice and wood smoke. For all his big dreams, this place was still home.
His father, a man of few words, gave a simple nod from the living room. The old television was playing some local news segment about agricultural subsidies—same as always.
Over dinner, the conversation was light, but unspoken tension hung between the lines. Everyone was thinking the same thing: What now?
Lin Feng didn't have a job lined up. His major—Environmental Management—wasn't exactly in high demand. He had sent out dozens of applications in the city but only received a handful of rejections and a lot of silence in return.
After dinner, he sat on the porch with a warm mug of tea, watching the stars blink into the sky. The countryside was quiet in a way the city never was. No honking cars, no neon lights, no late-night delivery scooters. Just the distant croaking of frogs and the rustle of wind through the bamboo.
He thought of his classmates—some already working in tier-one cities, others heading abroad. And here he was, twenty years old, jobless, back in a rural town with no direction.
He sighed and stood up. "I'll walk around a bit," he said to his mom, who nodded from the kitchen.
He followed a familiar path behind the house, past the chicken coop and the shallow river where he used to catch tadpoles as a kid. The moonlight painted everything silver. He reached the old willow tree at the edge of the woods, its branches swaying in the breeze like a giant whispering secrets.
It was then that something strange happened.
As he brushed aside some vines near the base of the tree, his fingers brushed against... nothing. Just empty space.
Frowning, he leaned in—and the world around him shimmered.
He stumbled forward instinctively—and fell.
But instead of hitting dirt or roots, he landed softly on grass.
"What the—?"
He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding. The moon was gone. The willow tree was gone.
He was somewhere else.
All around him stretched a vast meadow, dotted with wildflowers swaying in an unseen breeze. A gentle river sparkled nearby, its waters crystal-clear. In the distance, forests rolled into hills, and beyond that, a mountain range pierced the sky.
"What is this place…?" he whispered.
There was no sound except birdsong. No paths. No signs of civilization.
Just him—and nature.
He turned in a slow circle, trying to find the tree he'd just come from, but it was gone. No portal. No shimmer. Nothing.
His chest tightened. Was this a dream?
He reached down and pinched his arm—hard.
"Ow!"
Still here.
He looked at his watch. It was nearly 9 PM.
Panicking, he started walking toward the river, hoping to find something—anything. He dipped his hand into the water. It was cold, fresh, and real. A fish darted past, scales flashing.
Something moved behind a bush nearby. He tensed—but it was only a small group of chickens, pecking at the grass. Wild, but docile.
There were ducks near the river. In the distance, goats grazed on a slope.
And then, in the soil near a clearing, he saw neat rows of wild vegetables. Carrots. Spinach. Even ginger.
It felt... curated. Natural, yet too balanced to be random.
He wandered for what felt like hours. Finally, exhausted, he sat under a tree and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the meadow was gone.
He was back under the willow tree behind his house.
He checked his watch again.
Only a minute had passed.
His pulse quickened. "No way…"
He ran home, heart thundering.
Over the next few days, Lin Feng tested the space again and again. Each time, the same thing: he would return to the willow tree, touch the hidden spot—and get pulled into that same strange, isolated world. Inside, time flowed differently. An entire day inside passed in just a few minutes outside.
He tried taking items in and out.
A twig? Came out fine.
Some wild berries? Real and edible.
Even the wild eggs he found near the river—warm, fresh, and later, proven to be delicious when fried.
It was real. All of it.
A place no one else could access.
A world where time was on his side.
The realization hit him like a freight train: this wasn't just some freak phenomenon. This was an opportunity. A secret advantage no one else had.
With that thought, a quiet determination settled in his chest.
He didn't need a high-paying city job.
He didn't need connections or luck.
He had this.
And he would make it count.
That night, he sat down at his desk in the small bedroom he had used as a teenager. He opened his old laptop and began taking notes.
Inner Realm Observations – Day 1 to 3
Time Ratio: Approx. 1 day inside = ~15 minutes outside
Terrain: Grassland, river, pond, hills, mixed forest
Wildlife: Chickens, ducks, goats, fish
Plants: Wild vegetables, herbs
Resources: Natural wood, some shiny stones (need to check if valuable)
Boundaries: Walked 3 hours in one direction, no edge found yet
Re-entry: Always via same tree root; no change so far
Rules: Can take things in and out (testing in progress)
He stared at the list.
How many people dreamed of having more time?
More land?
Free resources?
He had all three—and no one could take it from him.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, Lin Feng felt something settle in his chest that had been missing for a long time.
Purpose.
Not for fame. Not to show off.
But for stability. For security. For family.
Tomorrow, he would try planting something of his own inside. He still had some leftover seeds in the shed—bitter gourd, chili, and cabbage from his grandpa's old stash.
It was time to experiment.
To build slowly.
To grow something real.
End of Chapter 1