Li Si woke up and found himself lying in the inn at Hu’an Town. At his feet, Wu Wen was dozing. Li Si weakly called out: “Wu Wen…”

Wu Wen awoke and shouted excitedly: “My lord, you’ve finally awakened. You’ve been in a coma for six days and six nights, not eating or drinking. You nearly scared me to death. I found a physician to examine you. The physician said you had no illness at all. Really, how could you just sleep and not wake up?”

Li Si understood in his heart: The hidden suggestion game was broken. He had walked out of Gutan Village. After the hell-like nightmare, he had opened his eyes.

“Stop the nonsense. I’m starving to death.” Li Si said with a grin.

“Oh, I’ll go buy food right now. Wait a moment, I’ll be right back.” Wu Wen shot out like a puff of smoke. Li Si tried stretching his legs and feet. His sore, numb, and weak legs and feet gradually could move. He sighed—it was truly good to be alive.

After wolfing down his meal, Li Si looked around the guest room several times: “Wu Wen, did you see that letter in the painting?”

“Letter in the painting? What letter in the painting? Is it a painting or a letter?”

“It’s…” Li Si stopped mid-sentence. If it was just a nightmare, better to let it go with the nightmare. He shook his head and said, “Never mind, I remembered wrong.”

After resting for three days, Li Si and Wu Wen were about to leave Hu’an Town. On the long street in the early morning, Li Si passed by a medicine hall. Several men were carrying a stretcher with someone lying on their side. Behind the stretcher were two women.

The women heavily knocked on the medicine hall’s door.

The medicine hall opened. The physician stuck his head out, glanced once, and waved his hand: “Can’t treat him. I went to see him before. He’s been unconscious for a full seven days and seven nights. No illness or symptoms, but he just won’t wake up.”

“Doctor, please, please treat him again. We can’t just watch him die.” One woman said with tearful eyes.

“Alas, it’s not that I won’t treat him—there’s simply no place to start. Moreover, seven days without food or water—even an immortal would starve or die of thirst. Go, go.” The physician closed the door. The two women wept while holding each other.

Li Si’s heart felt blocked. He turned to the front side of the unconscious man. Heavens!

The man who wouldn’t wake was actually… Tong Baiquan! The Tong Baiquan from Gutan Village!

“Why won’t he wake?” Li Si stepped forward and asked.

“We don’t know. My master was perfectly fine, then suddenly couldn’t wake up. Neither dead nor alive like this—what are we supposed to do!” The woman cried loudly. The other woman helped her up. They carried the stretcher away.

Li Si wanted to follow, then stopped. Wu Wen came over and said, “What’s wrong, my lord? Do you know him?”

Li Si was stunned. His gaze became distant as he slowly said, “Some people are clearly right before your eyes, but actually they’re still in a very, very distant place—so distant it’s frightening… Him, I don’t know him.”

“Let’s go.”

Not long after the two left, Hu’an Town gradually became lively. Deep within the long streets and small alleys, two people slowly appeared. One of them was the clay-painting craftsman who had been on the long street for many days. The other had a veiled face—appearance unclear—but with a slender and graceful figure, undoubtedly a woman.

“To escape from the Gutan game, his luck is great.” The clay-painting craftsman glanced at the woman beside him, his tone sinister. “But without your help, leaving so many flaws in the hidden suggestion game, I’m afraid he couldn’t have escaped either.”

“The Sect Leader’s grand enterprise is to place the entire world under his hidden suggestion giant wave. What does a mere God-Catcher amount to? Yet the Sect Leader excessively values him. Hmph, sooner or later I’ll make the Sect Leader understand who the true strong one is.” The clay-painting craftsman said mockingly.

“You talk too much. Regardless, he escaped from the hidden suggestion game, which means he completed the Sect Leader’s first test of him. What happens after is not something you or I can interfere with.” The woman’s voice was like a pure lotus. “I advise you not to meddle unnecessarily, lest you bring fire upon yourself.”

The woman’s graceful figure disappeared into the crowd.

The clay-painting craftsman coldly watched where she departed, wearing a cold smile. He lifted his clay-painting cloak and called out loudly: “Clay-painting, clay-painting! Paint the strange tales and unusual events you can’t imagine. Paint all the demons and monsters of the mortal world.”