He opened his eyes and it was still the same canopy bed.
His head rested on a plush pillow as Horn twisted his neck, glancing left and right, and only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
Good, there were no women in bed today. He had thought Jeanne and Jia Li might be lying on either side...
Horn suddenly froze, then chuckled to himself. He was not at the Gulag Monastery but in the Mechanical Palace.
As for the Blood, Sweat, and Tears Journey, it had been almost a year since then.
With a light sigh, he shook his head. Every time he woke up from a hangover, he felt the world was too unfamiliar.
In that fleeting moment, he had even thought it was still September 1444.
He still remembered, after the Little River Battle, he had also gotten very drunk. The next day, Qianqian brought them devastating news—the arrival of Prince Kongdai.
The Horn of that time, that cautious and reactionary Horn, had insanely decided to flee Upper Reif County with nearly a thousand citizens.
