Chen Miao looked at himself in the mirror, gently caressing his wrinkled cheeks, his head full of silver hair, and his hands, covered with age spots, felt too weak to grasp anything. It all felt so unreal to him.
At this moment, his mind was foggy.
He had never seen himself at the age of 70.
Could it be... he had already spent 50 years in the dream?
Wasn't it said that the time flow rate was only 10,000:1, which at most would be about twenty years?
"Since the birth of Lord Little Miao."
Lord Miao leaned over to hug Chen Miao from behind, resting his head on Chen Miao's shoulder, murmuring, "I suddenly remembered, I had long died, and you brought me into the dream to fulfill a mission."
"I remember a lot."
"Thank you, Miao."
"Forgive my selfishness for making you stay with me in the dream for forty more years."
"..."
