Jian Wushuang didn't pay attention to him. He suddenly stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
After taking a few deep breaths, he said firmly, "Proceed as planned!"
Then, someone walked out of the shack.
The sky outside hadn't fully brightened yet. He walked familiarly to a well, drew a bucket of ice-cold water, drank two big mouthfuls with a ladle, and, still unsatisfied, poured some over his head.
Only then did he feel a bit more awake.
He washed his face, finally regaining his spirit.
At this time, when he tried to recall the dream, it had already become blurry.
He didn't pay it much mind, just thinking he was overthinking.
By now, people were already lining up for food at the shack.
He stepped to the back of the line. Just as he steadied himself, someone kicked him from behind.
"You bastard, your food has already been taken, and you're still lining up!"
