lt;The Pocket Dimens

At the village's edge, in a dilapidated grass temple, a woman with washed-out clothes patched countless times stood behind the stove, wielding a chipped spatula.,Just now, when this broom star didn't lie on the ground, it scared him out of his wits.,A sharp pain erupted in Yan Xiaoshi's head, his vision blurring. Fragments of memories, alien and unwelcome, flooded his mind like a raging torrent, overwhelming him.。